“No, Miss, but she thinks of him a lot,” said Perkins, with a shake of his old head.  “I saw her this morning, Miss, standing in front of his picture in the hall, and there were tears in her eyes, Miss, and then all at once she whirled around and ran away, and her face had a wild look on it, Miss.”

“Do you know, Perkins,” said little Anne, stopping work for a minute and speaking earnestly, “do you know that I think Judy would be different if she only knew something about him.  The uncertainty makes her unhappy, and then she does reckless things just to get away from herself.”

“Yes, Miss,” said Perkins, “and there ain’t a morning that she don’t put fresh flowers in front of that there picture, and there ain’t a night that she don’t kiss her hand to it from the top of the stairs.”

“I know,” sighed Anne.  “Poor Judy.”

“When will the Judge be back?” she asked after awhile.

But at that Perkins shut up like a clam.  “I don’t know, Miss,” he snapped.  “It’s best for you not to ask too many questions, Miss.”

Anne flushed.  “Oh, of course I won’t, Perkins,” she said, “if you don’t like to have me—­” and she was very quiet, until the old butler, with a glance at her troubled face, said, “I don’t care how many questions you axes, Miss, but the Judge might.”

And Anne smiled at him, with radiant forgiveness.

“Isn’t all this silver a lot of care, Perkins?” she asked, to clear the air.

“It is that,” answered Perkins, “and yet there isn’t half as much of it as there is at the Judge’s in Fairfax.  Only the Judge keeps his locked up in a safe, all except the things we uses every day.  But here they just puts it on the sideboard, where it is a temptation to burglars—­with them long windows opening out on the porch, and the curtains drawn back half the time.  I don’t call it safe, Miss, I surely don’t.”

“But there aren’t any burglars around here, are there, Perkins?” and Anne stopped rubbing the cups to look at him anxiously.

“Nobody knows whether there is or not,” grumbled Perkins.  “There might be for all they know.  It ain’t fair to the servants, Miss, for to let them lie around loose this way.  Mrs. Adams says so, too, but the Judge don’t pay no attention to things since the Captain left, and Miss Judy is too young to bother.”

“They wouldn’t like to lose these cups,” said Anne, as she finished the last one, and arranged them in a squat little row on the shelf.

“They wouldn’t like to lose any of it,” returned Perkins, putting a great soup-ladle back into its flannel bag.  “It’s all old and it’s all family silver, and people ought to take care of it, and when the Judge comes back I am going to tell him so, Miss.”

“Anne,” said Judy, peeping in at the door, “I’m back, and Lutie Barton is with me.  Come on in and see her.”

“Oh, dear,” said Anne, with a dismayed glance at her spattered apron, “I look like a sight.”