“But Perkins has retired, and Mary, and everybody—­” expostulated the Judge.

“Who cares for Perkins?” asked Judy with her nose in the air.

“Well,” said the Judge, who was hopelessly the slave of his servants, “he might not like it—­”

“Judge Jameson,” said Judy, shaking a reproachful finger at him, “I believe you are afraid of your butler.”

“Well, perhaps I am, my dear,” said the Judge, weakly, “but Perkins is an individual of a great deal of firmness, and he carries the keys, and I don’t believe you will find anything, anyhow.  And if you eat up anything that he has ordered for breakfast, you will have an unpleasant time accounting for it in the morning.  I know Perkins, my dear—­and he is rather difficult—­rather difficult.  But he is a very fine servant,” he amended hastily.

“You leave him to me in the morning,” said Judy, “I’ll make the peace, grandfather, and I simply can’t be starved to-night.”

“But Perkins—­”

“Perkins won’t say a word to you,” said Judy, “and if he does, you can say you were not in the kitchen, because you are to stay right here, and Anne and I will bring things up, and make you a receiver of stolen goods.”

She was very charming in spite of her wilfulness, and when she ended her little speech, by tucking her hand through the Judge’s arm, and looking up at him mischievously, the old gentleman gave in.

The two girls were gone for a long time, so long that the Judge nodded on his bench.

He was waked by a shriek that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.

“What—­is the matter, what’s the matter, my dear?” he cried, starting up.

There was another subdued shriek, then a hysterical giggle.

“Judy is shut up in the ice-box,” announced Anne, hurrying up from the basement.

“Bless my soul,” ejaculated the Judge.

“We hunted around and found the key,” explained Anne, as the Judge stumped distractedly through the lower hall, “and Judy unlocked the door of the ice-box and got inside, and she still had the key in her hand, and I hit the door accidentally and it slammed on her, and it has a spring lock and we can’t open it.”

“Bless my soul,” said the Judge again.

The ice-box was a massive affair, almost like a small room.  It was in a remote corner of the lower hallway, and its walls were thick and impenetrable.

“Let me out, oh, let me out,” came in muffled tones, as the Judge and Anne came up.

“My dear child, my dear child,” said the Judge, “how could you do such a thing?”

“I shall freeze.  I shall freeze,” wailed Judy.

“Are you very cold, Judy?” shivered Anne, sympathetically.

“It’s so dark—­and damp.  Let me out, let me out,” and Judy’s voice rose to a shriek.

“Now, my dear, be calm,” advised the Judge, whose hands were shaking with nervousness, “I shall call Perkins—­yes, I really think I shall have to call Perkins—­” and he hurried through the hall to the speaking tubes.