"We have hunted for you all night," he said, and the dim rays from the lantern showed the droop of his figure and the lines in his face.

"Oh, grandfather," she said again, and clung to him, sobbing softly.

"Hush," he said, holding her close. "Hush, Judy. You are all right now."

"Oh, I am all right," she sobbed, despairingly, "but it is you, grandfather, you are all tired out, and just because I was such--such--a silly goose--"

"Never mind, never mind," said the Judge, hastily, "I have found you now."

"I am not worth finding," said Judy, miserably, "I am not, grandfather."

But the Judge laughed at that, and smoothed her hair away from her forehead with a loving touch. "You are always my dear little girl," he a.s.sured her, "whatever you do--you know that, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, and laid her face against his sleeve.

"Now we will go back," he said presently, and with Belinda and Becky in close attendance, they went up the hill together.

At the top Judy gave a cry of astonishment, for right in front of her, on the other side of the hill, was the little gray house, ablaze with light.

"And I have been right back of it all night. If I had just walked a few steps farther," exclaimed Judy. "I must have gone in a circle, and I thought I was miles from here--"

As they came to the door the little grandmother met them, and Anne, and in the background Tommy Tolliver.

"We didn't know you were lost," explained Anne as she received the returned wanderer in her arms, "until we got back from Lake Limpid.

Grandmother thought you had joined us down the road, and we thought you had stayed at home, and the Judge, of course, thought you were with me, and so none of us worried until we came back to-night and found you had been gone all day."

"And then Tommy told us that you had gone to the gipsy camp," went on Anne.

At Judy's reproachful glance Tommy burst out:

"I couldn't help telling, Judy. Launcelot made me."

"I should say I did," said a voice from the doorway, and Launcelot came in with Dr. Grennell. "I was sure he knew something about it."

Judy greeted them from the big rocking chair--where she sat big-eyed and weary, but a most interesting spectacle.

"Launcelot went to the camp and found that the gipsies had gone, so we knew you couldn't have seen them--" began the Judge, and at that Judy interrupted him.

"But I _did_ see them, grandfather," she said, "I went to the camp."

"And were they there?" asked Launcelot

"Yes."

"Were they packing while you were there?"

"No."

"I wonder what made them leave so suddenly," and Launcelot and the Judge and Dr. Grennell looked at each other.

"Did you give them anything, Judy?" asked the Judge.

"Nothing but twenty-five cents. They were horrid, and the old woman wanted me to give my chain and Spanish coin. She knew an awful lot and I was crazy to hear the rest of my fortune, but I couldn't give away my coin."

"What coin, Judy?" asked Tommy, curiously.

"This one--" Judy put her hand to her neck, then she screamed:

"It's gone, grandfather. Launcelot, it's gone."

"What?" They all bent forward in excitement.

"I thought so," said the Judge, settling back in his chair, "when she said she had seen them, and then they disappeared before we could get to them. I thought they had been up to something."

"It was my chain with the pearl in it," said Judy, "the one you gave mother."

"Yes, and the rascals knew that the pearl was worth more than their whole outfit."

Launcelot picked up his hat. "I'm going to get it for you," he said, "they can't play any tricks like that."

"I'll go with you," said Dr. Grennell, "you may need an older man to help you. I think we can catch them with good horses."

He bent over Judy before he went out. "I wish you had come to me to have your fortune told," he said, "I could have told you more than that old hag."

"How?" asked Judy, puzzled.

"I should have told you that life is what we make it. And your fortune will be good or bad as you live it. It will not be a gipsy queen but Judy Jameson who shall decide the final issue."

"But, doctor, she knew that I loved the sea, and--and--that I had lost some one that I loved--"

"Oh, Judy," Launcelot's tone was impatient, "didn't you tell that fellow that you were coming, and didn't they have lots of time to find out about you."

"I didn't think of that." said Judy meekly.

But as he went out of the door, she had a little flash of temper.

"If you had waited for me this morning, I shouldn't have gone to the camp."

"If you had been ready, I shouldn't have left you," was Launcelot's reply, as his quiet eyes met Judy's stormy ones.

"Oh," she said, helplessly, and turned her gaze away, feeling that, as usual, he had the best of it.

And at that he whispered, "But I didn't have a good time, Judy--we--we missed--you--" and he followed Dr. Grennell.

"And now," said the little grandmother, "every one go home, and let me put this naughty girl to bed," but she smiled at Judy as she said it, and the tired little maid put her arms around her, and buried her face in the motherly bosom, and shook in a sudden chill.

"I am afraid she is going to be ill," said the Judge, anxiously, but the little grandmother tried to cheer him.

"She will be all right when she is rested," she said, with a confidence she did not really feel.