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heard.
    “—but you are still far too young to think of that yet! No, what I want is for you to meet people of your own age and have a good time with them. I want you to have the fun of going out to parties and dressing up for dances. And more than that, I want you to have more than one thing to fill your mind. Don’t you see, Judith, life is such a complex thing. It is impossible for you to be able to cope with it if you meet only one tiny corner of it. So—take this opportunity, dear. I— I wouldn’t insist on it if I was not convinced that it is for your good! Now, what about it?”
    She put a gentle hand on Judith’s arm, but it was roughly shaken off.
    “I am going to see Mr. Bellairs—now!” Judith said passionately. “If you are right—if you can do this to me, then we will talk about it. But I am going to fight every inch of the way! I won’t be turned out of Windygates by a stranger!”
    “But there is no question—” Miss Ravensdale stopped. There was no point in talking to the empty air, and she could already hear Judith’s small but workmanlike shoes scrunching on the gravel outside. A 'moment or two later she heard the car go roaring off.
    Judith drove as if she were possessed. If she had not been an exceptionally good driver she would almost certainly have had a spill at more than one corner, but as it was she came to a halt outside Mr. Bellair’s private residence in perfect safety an incredibly short time later.
    The solicitor—an elderly man who had looked after the Ravensdales’ affairs for many years, as had his father before him—was at home and came almost immediately into the room to which she had been shown.
    “My dear Judith,” he said anxiously, taking her hand in his. “I hope there is nothing wrong?”
    “But there is—something very much wrong!” she blurted out.
    Mr. Bellairs looked at her intently. Yes, he could certainly believe that. The child was shaking with some sort of nervous strain.
    Had she been a little older he would have offered her sherry, hoping that the brief delay would quieten her down, but for the young there was only one thing. Whatever their troubles might be, they had to get them off their chests as quickly as possible.
    He indicated a chair and sat down himself in such a position that he could see her face clearly in the light of the table lamp.
    “You had better tell me,” he suggested.
    He listened in silence to her story. Just as he had listened to Miss Ravensdale’s. And when Judith had finished he said quietly:
    “Yes, it is quite true. Your aunt did consult me, and I told her what it was my duty to. Namely, that if she believed it was in your interests that an agent should be brought in, then she had no choice but to take the necessary steps to bring it about.”
    “But it isn’t in my interests—or the interests of Windygates!” Judith stormed. “Who can possibly know as well as I do how it ought to be run? Why, Daddy used to say that I was a second brain to him— and if he was willing to trust me, why can’t everybody else?”
    The man of experience looked at her pitifully. How these young things ran their heads against brick walls! And how sure they were that they knew best! For a moment he hesitated, then he came to a decision.
    “But did he?” he asked quietly.
    Judith stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment.
    “Did he—what?” she enquired. And then, as she realised what he meant she said indignantly: “Do you mean, did he trust me? Why, of course he did!”
    “Your father never trusted any woman in his life!” Mr. Bellairs said bluntly, “and you were no exception! More than once he confided his anxiety about the situation in which you would be left were he to die ”
    “You mean, he didn’t like making Aunt Harriet my guardian?” she said eagerly.
    Mr. Bellairs frowned.
    “No, I mean nothing of the sort! His anxiety was because he knew just how difficult it would be for you to do a man’s job with no man