"She says that Richard has given her a silk dress for her birthday, and she's going to have it made with angel sleeves, and wear a hoop with it. She's sixteen--just like me." "Richard's a good brother." "She says that Richard has gone to Richmond--something about arms for his Company of Volunteers. Aunt Lucy--" "Yes, dear." "I think that Richard loves Judith." "Molly, Molly, stop romancing!" "I am not romancing. I don't believe in it. That week last summer he used to watch her and Mr. Stafford--and there was a look in his eyes like the knight's in the 'Arcadia'--" "Molly! Molly!" "And everybody knew that Mr. Stafford was a suitor. _I_ knew it--Easter told me. And everybody thought that Judith was going to make him happy, only she doesn't seem to have done so--at least, not yet. And there was the big tournament, and Richard and Dundee took all the rings, though I know that Mr. Stafford had expected to, and Judith let Richard crown her queen, but she looked just as pale and still! and Richard had a line between his brows, and I think he thought she would rather have had the Maid of Honour's crown that Mr. Stafford won and gave to just a little girl--" "Molly, I am going to lock up every poetry book in the house--" "And that was one day, and the next morning Richard looked stern and fine, and rode away. He isn't really handsome--not like Edward, that is--only he has a way of looking so. And Judith--" "Molly, you're uncanny--" "I'm not uncanny. I can't help seeing. And the night after the tournament I slept in Judith's room, and I woke up three times, and each time there was Judith still sitting in the window, in the moonlight, and the roses Richard had crowned her with beside her in grandmother's Lowestoft bowl. And each time I asked her, 'Why don't you come to bed, Judith?' and each time she said, 'I'm not sleepy.' Then in the morning Richard rode away, and the next day was Sunday, and Judith went to church both morning and evening, and that night she took so long to say her prayers she must have been praying for the whole world--" Miss Lucy rose with energy. "Stop, Molly! I shouldn't have let you ever begin. It's not kind to watch people like that." "I wasn't watching Judith," said Molly. "I'd scorn to do such a thing! I was just seeing. And I never said a word about her and Richard until this instant when the sunshine came in somehow and started it. And I don't know that she likes Richard any more. I think she's trying hard to like Mr. Stafford--he wants her to so much!" "Stop talking, honey, and don't have so many fancies, and don't read so much poetry!--Who is it coming up the drive?" "It's Mr. Wood on his old grey horse--like a nice, quiet knight out of the 'Faery Queen.' Didn't you ever notice, Aunt Lucy, how everybody really belongs in a book?"