Judy Part 16

Tommy went.

But Miss Mary did not wish to be bothered.

"I made a rule and Anne broke it," she said, when Tommy tried to straighten things out, "and that is all there is to it. Don't talk about it any more, Tommy," and she dismissed him peremptorily.

When Tommy told Launcelot the result of the interview, the big boy set his lips in a firm line, and started off down the dusty road.

He went straight to town and to Judy.

"Oh, oh," said Judy, when she had listened to his tale of woe, "what a mean old thing she is--I hate her--" and her dark eyes flashed.

"I don't think Miss Mary is mean," said Launcelot, "but the children _are_ restless, and she isn't very strong, and when she feels badly she takes it out on the scholars."

"But to punish Anne," said Judy, and her voice trembled, "dear little Anne--"

"She might at least have listened to Tommy's explanation," said Launcelot.

After a pause he said: "I came to you because I thought you might go and see Anne after school. It would do her a lot of good. She will be all broken up."

"I will go to school and get her," cried Judy, eagerly. "Is it very far?"

"I am afraid you couldn't walk," said Launcelot, doubtfully.

"I'll drive over in the trap," said Judy. "Grandfather says I can use Vic whenever I want to."

"It was pretty mean of Miss Mary to pile it on, I must say," said Launcelot, as he rose to go. "She might have let Anne be in the entertainment."

"What?"

"She isn't going to let Anne be in it."

"Not be 'Cinderella'?" Judy's tone was ominous.

"No."

"Oh, oh, oh." Judy's hands were clenched fiercely. "I'll get even with her, Launcelot. I'll get even with that teacher yet."

Launcelot smiled at her vehemence.

"But you can't," he said.

"Can't I?" with a shrug of her shoulders.

"No."

"Wait," said Judy, and not another word could he get out of her on the subject.

The afternoon dragged along its interminable length, and Anne, with bursting head, thought that it would never end.

"Tick, tock," proclaimed the old school clock, as the hands crept slowly to one, to two, to three.

"In five minutes I can go," thought poor little Anne wildly, and just then the school-room door opened, and on the threshold appeared a self-contained young lady in pale violet gingham, and the young lady was asking for Anne Batch.e.l.ler!

"Judy!" said Anne's heart, with a bound, but her lips were still.

Miss Mary had seen the Judge's grand-daughter at church the day before, and had been much impressed, and now when Judy asked sweetly if Anne could go, she gave immediate consent.

"Of course she may," she said. "Anne, you are dismissed."

But her eyes did not meet Anne's eyes as she said it, for Miss Mary's head was better, and she was beginning to wonder if she should not have investigated before she condemned Anne so harshly.

Twenty-four heads turned towards the window as Anne and Judy climbed into the fascinating trap with the fawn cloth cus.h.i.+ons, and twenty-four pairs of lungs breathed sighs of envy, as Judy picked up the reins, and the two little girls drove away together in the suns.h.i.+ne.

CHAPTER X

MISTRESS MARY

No one ever knew how Judy managed to get the Judge's consent, but on Wednesday, when the children on their way home from school called at the post-office for the mail, they found small square envelopes addressed to themselves, and each envelope contained a card, and on the card was written an invitation to every child to be present at a lawn party to be given at Judge Jameson's on the following Sat.u.r.day, from one until five o'clock.

But this was not all. For during the evening, rumors, started by the wily Launcelot, leaked out, that never in the history of Fairfax had there been such a party as the one to be given by Judge Jameson in honor of his grand-daughter, Judith, and her friend, Anne Batch.e.l.ler.

"For it is as much Anne's party as Judy's," Launcelot stated, as one having authority.

After the first jubilation, however, the young people looked at each other with blank faces.

"It is the same afternoon as the school entertainment," wailed Amelia Morrison.

"An' we've got to speak our pieces," said little Jimmie Jones.

But Nannie May cut the Gordian knot with her usual impetuosity.

"I am going to Judy's party," she declared, "and I am going to get mother to write a note to Miss Mary."

Many were the notes that went to Miss Mary that day. All sorts of excuses were given by the ambitious mothers, who would not have had their offspring miss the opportunity of seeing the inside of the most exclusive house in Fairfax for all the school entertainments in the world!

And Miss Mary!

She had invited the school board and a half-dozen pedagogues from neighboring districts. She had trained the children until they were letter perfect. She had drilled them in their physical exercises until they moved like machines, and now at the eleventh hour they were fluttering away from her like a flock of unruly birds, and she recognized at once that Judy had championed Anne's cause, and that in her she had an adversary to be feared.

In vain she expostulated with the mothers.

"Sat.u.r.day isn't a regular school-day, you know, Miss Mary," said Mrs.

Morrison, sitting down ponderously to argue the question with the teacher, "and of course the Judge couldn't know that it would interfere with your plans."

Miss Mary was convinced that the Judge _did_ know, but she didn't quite dare to argue the question with him. She was conscious that she had been over-severe, and that the Judge, who believed in justice first, last, and all the time, would not uphold her.