Sidney had risen in blank amazement, which swiftly changed to high dudgeon under Miss Judy's incoherent reproaches. From the agitated outburst to the breathless close she had not the vaguest comprehension of the cause of Miss Judy's excitement and distress. But she saw that they were serious, and her anger vanished forthwith. She had long since fallen into the habit of doing whatever Miss Judy wished, even when she could not understand; no matter whether it agreed with her own views or not, and wholly regardless of her own stalwart opinion of that little lady's fastidious ideas, which she thought of as Miss Judy's "pernickety notions." In anything and everything concerning Doris, especially, Sidney always gave way at once without an instant's demur, and she did so now, as soon as she had sufficiently recovered from her amazement to comprehend what it was that Miss Judy wished her to do. Her good humor, too, came back quickly; it was never absent long, and she cheerfully started toward home without more urging. She went at once, stepping out of Miss Judy's sight with long, swinging strides, but soon slacking her pace, unconsciously smiling now as she sauntered. A woman who has been married is apt to smile at an unmarried woman's views of love and courtship and kindred matters. Sidney stood ready to defer to Miss Judy in most things, humbly conscious of her own ignorance and honestly willing at all times to confess it. When, however, it came to men-folks--laughing silently, Sidney loitered on up the big road, knitting much faster than she walked, for her needles flew just as swiftly and surely in the darkness as in the light. Miss Judy shed a few gentle tears in the gloom of the passage. Her first distinct feeling was acute distress for the child of her heart. Then it was a cruel personal disappointment to have her plans for Doris's social advancement so shockingly upset. But presently Miss Judy's cheerful spirits began to rally; the tea might perhaps still place Doris properly before old lady Gordon's grandson, but it would be much harder now, owing to Sidney's distressing thoughtlessness. "Yet she is not so much to blame, after all, poor thing," said Miss Judy, wiping her eyes, as her heart began to beat more naturally. "Sidney was not brought up as we were; we are bound in fairness to consider that, sister Sophia," pleaded Miss Judy, as if fearing that Miss Sophia might be too hard on Sidney. Miss Sophia straightened up and opened her eyes, surprised to find Sidney gone; but she responded as usual with firm promptness. Indeed, when she had thus responded several times, more and more decidedly, as Miss Judy went on arguing with herself and thinking that she was discussing the situation with Miss Sophia, the former came gradually to feel that all would yet be well with Doris--as Miss Sophia believed and said.