“Mrs. Tingsby, Dear Madam,” began the Judge, in his clear, rounded voice, “Some time ago I went to see a real estate agent in this city, and told him I wanted to invest a certain sum of money in house property. He has bought several houses for me; among them is one cottage situated on the Cloverdale electric railway line. It is only four miles from the post office, so one can easily get into the city from it. The cottage has eight rooms; it is heated by a furnace, there are hot and cold-water pipes, and it has a small stable where a cow could be kept. The outlook is sunny, and the situation is not lonely, for there are other houses about sixty feet away. There is also a good school a quarter of a mile from the cottage. I have as yet no tenant for this cottage, and if you can pay the rent, which is one dollar a month, or twelve dollars a year, I think you should, in justice to your children, at once take possession of it. I must not forget to say that I greatly desire to say that whoever takes the cottage should consent to receive as a boarder an old servant of mine—a washerwoman. She is in poor health, and requires some waiting on. Her board, therefore, will be liberal. I am prepared to offer you for her twelve dollars a week. Let me hear from you at your earliest convenience.

There was a dead silence after the Judge had finished reading the letter. He folded it, put it back in the envelope, then looked at Airy.

Her eyes were fixed, and she was staring strangely at him. At last her jaws moved feebly. It seemed as if she were trying them to see if she could utter a sentence.

“Be that true?” she gasped, in a hoarse voice.

“Yes, child, quite true.”

“Every word of it—house rent twelve dollars a year?”

“O, the pity of it,” and the Judge stifled a groan. At her age, to be so keenly, so terribly alive to the value of a dollar.

“House rent, twelve dollars,” he said.

“House rent, twelve dollars,” she repeated, mechanically, “and boarder’s pay twelve dollars, too. Only one is by the year, and one by the week,” and opening her mouth she began to laugh in a shrill, mechanical voice.

She started low, but she soon got high, and the Judge was beginning to stir uneasily in his chair, when, to his dismay, the laugh ended abruptly and a scream began. It was not an ordinary scream, it was an hysterical screech, and the alarmed man sprang from his seat.

Airy had thrown herself back in her chair, her mouth was wide open, her eyes were staring and glassy. “O!” The man put his hands to his ears. It seemed to him that nothing in his life had ever struck such sudden dismay to his heart. He had seen women in hysterics, but this childish yelling was a thousand times worse. Where were the boys and the servants? He could not bear to touch the unfortunate young creature, and he turned helplessly to the door.

Titus and Dallas were rushing in from the room across the hall. When Titus saw Airy he fell back. He had something of his grandfather’s repugnance to her.

Dallas, however, was not dismayed. He took in the situation at a glance, and saying to Titus, “You had better shut the windows,” he calmly took off his coat and threw it over Airy’s head.

At the close of the day the big furnace in the basement was apt to make the house very warm, and windows were freely left open. Titus ran about this second floor, hastily closing them, while the servants came running to the study to see what was the matter.

“Take her away,” said the Judge, hastily; “let the women have her. I think she is half starved. Give her something to eat, and let her go home.”

Airy’s voice was muffled now, but it was still holding forth, and in addition she had begun to kick.

Dallas took up the lean little body in his strong young arms and bore it across the hall to the sitting room.

“Come in here,” he said to the wave of maids on the staircase, and followed by Mrs. Blodgett this wave overflowed into the sitting room.

“I excited her—I will stay here,” said the Judge, with an approving gesture, and he backed into his study and closed the door. “Take good care of her,” he called once more, opening the door, “and send her home when she is better.”

Titus returned into a corner of the sitting room, and Dallas became master of ceremonies.

“I’ve seen women like this in boarding houses,” he observed, reassuringly, to Titus. Then he said, “Some cold water, Jennie, to sprinkle on her face.”

The water was dashed on her, her hands were rubbed, and presently the exhausted girl sat up and shut her mouth.

“Will you be kind enough to have some hot soup, or something of the sort, prepared for her,” said Dallas to Mrs. Blodgett, “and make the maids go away. There are too many people in the room.”

Mrs. Blodgett drove everybody out except Titus. However, he soon slipped away, and she and Dallas were alone with the little girl.

They said nothing to her, and Airy, curled up on a sofa, panted and sobbed in a suppressed way, until Jennie appeared with the soup.

Then she protested. “Take it away. I aint got no feelin’ for it.”

“Drink it,” said Dallas, quietly, and he held the bowl to her lips.

She had to take it, though in the effort a violent perspiration broke out all over her weak little body.

Dallas made her drink every drop of it, then he sat quietly staring at her. Mrs. Blodgett took the bowl and waddled away, promising to return in a short time.

Airy nervously plucked at the sofa cushions, until Dallas asked her a question.

“Why did you shock the Judge by screaming in that way?”

“’Cause he’s such a wonder,” she said, weakly, “he’s such an understandin’ merracle of a man.”

“What has he done?”

“He’s give us a farm—a greenery place outside the city.”

“O!” said Dallas, quietly, “a place for your mother to take the children?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you come here to-night for?” asked the boy.

“I come for to take a lesson in bein’ a lady.”

“Does the Judge teach you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dallas pondered a few minutes, then he said, half to himself, “I wonder if he enjoys it.”

“No, he don’t,” said Airy, frankly. “He don’t, but what kin I do. I’ve got to learn how to be a lady.”

“I’ll speak to the Judge,” said Dallas, calmly. “I think I could give you lessons. It’s a shame to bother a man of his age.”

Airy’s eyes sparkled faintly. This polite boy could teach her as well as the Judge could. However, she felt too exhausted to discuss the matter, and sat quietly on the sofa.

“I’ll come to you,” said Dallas; “you’re not strong enough to come here.”

“I likes it,” she said, faintly; “I likes this house.”

“Well, perhaps when you are stronger,” he said, decidedly. “Just now, you look as if you ought not to leave your own rooftree. I’ll come and teach you several days a week after school is over. I suppose you’ll be moving soon, if the Judge has given you a house?”

“You bet we will,” she said, faintly.

“And now,” he went on, “I am going to have a carriage sent for, and one of the maids will go home with you.”

“I’m not worth it,” said Airy, but she was delighted, he could tell by her wan smile.

Ten minutes later Dallas stood at the front door watching the disappearing lights of the cab that bore the poor child away.

Then he went upstairs to the Judge’s study.

“Sir,” he said, “if you will allow me, I should like to help that little girl get an education.”

His patron looked at him benevolently. “But you have not the time, Dallas.”

“Yes, sir, I could teach her any day after school.”

The Judge reflected a few minutes. Perhaps it would be better for the little girl to have a younger instructor. Then it would be a chance for self-sacrifice on the part of Dallas.

“You sympathize with her aspirations?” he said, inquiringly.

“I’ve been there, sir,” replied Dallas, warmly. “I have been poor and despised, and I have longed to get an education.”

“Very well, I make my charge over to you. If you get tired, hand her back to me.”

“I won’t get tired,” said the boy, firmly.

“She wants nourishing food,” said the Judge, “more than anything else. I shall give orders to have something sent to her every day from our table.”

Dallas said good-night to him and went away, and the Judge thoughtfully picked up his book.

“I wonder what he will make of her—poor little soul, she looks as if she were going to die.”

Until he went to bed Airy was in his thoughts. Poor little ailing creature, he hoped that she would gain strength. It was sad to have so much ambition bound up in such a fragile body. He was glad that he had done something to enable her mother to move away from narrow, dirty River Street.

During the night he dreamed of the Tingsbys, and when he awoke in the morning they were still before him. Therefore, when he went out into the hall and looked out the window, as he usually did before he went down to breakfast, he was hardly surprised to see the whole Tingsby family, except Airy, seated on the long flight of steps leading up to his front door. He stared at them, then he went slowly downstairs.

Higby was sitting on one of the hall chairs. He got up when he saw his employer, and slightly backing, as he always did when speaking to the Judge, said, “Th-th-there’s a whole f-f-family campin’ out on the s-s-steps, sir. They wouldn’t c-c-come in.”

The Judge patiently put on a hat and opened the door.

“’Tention,” he heard in Mrs. Tingsby’s voice as he stepped out.

“Good morning,” he said, politely.

She went on, without apparently noticing him: “Up, little Tingsbys!”

“Seems to be a kind of drill,” murmured the Judge to himself. “Well, if it pleases them and doesn’t last too long I won’t complain. I wonder how many of my neighbors are up?” and he calmly scanned the windows of the house next door.

Two maids were behind the curtains. The Tingsbys evidently amused them.

Mrs. Tingsby had been holding the baby in her arms when the Judge arrived. Now he stood on his own young feet, and with admirable intelligence was taking his part in the maneuvers.

“Hands out, Tingsbys!” said the little woman.

Every Tingsby child stretched out its arms—Dobbie, Gibb, Goldie, Rodd, and Annie.

“Mitts off!” commanded the mother.

Every child bared his or her hands.

Mrs. Tingsby turned to the Judge. “See them finger nails, sir. Every one of ’em to be worked off for you.”

The Judge shivered slightly.

“In case you needs it,” she continued, with emphasis. “Now, children, your catechism. Question one: Who came down like a sheep to the fold and swooped little Bethany away to a lovely home?”

Five young voices gave an answer to the chilly morning wind sweeping by, “The Jedge.”

“Who’s been a good shepherd to Sister Airy?”

Again the shrill voices answered, “The Jedge!”

“Who’s guv, or almost guv, us a lovely green house out in the country, which our eyes have all seen this blessed mornin’—guv to the Tingsbys?”

“The Jedge!” shouted the children, excitedly.

“An’ now who’s goin’ to love the Jedge, an’ work for the Jedge, an’ praise the Jedge, an’ copy the Jedge?”

“We be!” they yelled, excitedly.

“I am quite satisfied with this exhibition of gratitude,” said the Judge, trying to speak very distinctly, “quite satisfied.”

Mrs. Tingsby beamed on him. “Sir, your humble servant. If ever I hears anyone say a word agin you I’ll tear out his hair, an’ scratch out his eyes, an’—”

The Judge waved his hand at her. There was no use in speaking, for she did not understand a word he said. However, she would know what that prohibitory gesture meant. Ordinarily, she was a sensible woman. Just now she seemed to be in a strange state of exaltation, brought on, no doubt, by the prospect of being able to take her progeny to the country. In short, she was getting silly, and would better go home.

“Will you come in and have some breakfast?” asked the Judge, motioning hospitably toward the open door.

“Sir,” she said, grandly, “I knows my duty. Never a Tingsby but Airy’ll enter your front door, nor back door, nuther. But we’ll process up an’ have a look at the stable an’ Brick, bein’ as we’re all together,” and with a solemn curtsy of farewell she swept her brood off the front steps and round the corner of the house toward the stable.

“Higby,” said the Judge, entering the hall, “go quickly to the stable with a basket of doughnuts and the supply of coffee for breakfast. Tell cook to make fresh for me.”