“Tears, Gipsy? Yes, tears as true as I live,” said the Judge, who had come down to meet them, and with his broad hand he wiped away the drops resting on Mildred’s long eyelashes. “Nothing but perspiration,” she answered, laughingly, while the Judge rejoined: “Hanged if I ever saw sweat look like that!” Telling him “he hadn’t seen everything yet,” she forced her old sunny smile to her face and ran up the walk, followed by Lawrence and Lilian, who ere they reached the portico were on the best of terms, Lilian having called him a “great hateful,” while he in return had playfully pulled one of her long curls. The cloud, however, did not so soon pass from Mildred’s heart, for she knew Lawrence Thornton had received a wrong impression, and, what was worse than all, there was no means of rectifying it. “What is it, Gipsy? What ails you?” asked the Judge, noticing her abstraction. “I thought you’d be in the seventh heaven when you got Lawrence Thornton here, and now he’s come you are bluer than a whetstone.” Suddenly remembering that she must give some directions for supper, Mildred ran off to the kitchen, where she found Finn edifying his sister Lucy with an account of the meeting between Lawrence and Lilian. “She stood there all ready,” said he, “and the minute the cars stopped he made a dive and hugged her,—so,” and Finn’s long arms wound themselves round the shoulders of his portly mother, who repaid him with a cuff such as she had been wont to give him in his babyhood. “Miss Lily didn’t do that way, I tell you,” said Finn, rubbing his ear; “she liked it, and stood as still. But who do you s’pect Miss Milly’s in love with? Miss Lily told Mr. Thornton how she ’fessed to her this morning that she loved a _man_.” “In course she’d love a man,” put in Rachel. “She’d look well lovin’ a gal, wouldn’t she?” “There ain’t no bad taste about that, nuther, let me tell you, old woman,” and Finn’s brawny feet began to cut his favorite pigeon wing as he thought of a certain yellow girl in the village. “I axes yer pardon, Miss Milly!” he exclaimed, suddenly bringing his pigeon wing to a close as he caught sight of Mildred, who had overheard every word he said. With a heart full almost to bursting she hastily issued her orders, and then ran up to her room, and, throwing herself upon the bed, did just what any girl would have done,—cried with all her might. “To think Lily should have told him that!” she exclaimed, passionately. “I wish he had not come here.” “You don’t wish so any more than I,” chimed in a voice, which sounded much like that of Lilian Veille. She knew that Mildred was offended, and, seeing her go up the stairs, she had followed her, to make peace, if possible, for Lilian, while occasionally transgressing, was constantly asking forgiveness. “I’m always doing something silly,” she said; “and then you did tell Clubs you didn’t like Lawrence.” “It is not that,” sobbed Mildred. “Finn says you told him I loved somebody.”