sity,' said Ginger. ' He once wrote a letter to her, I believe, which might have been open to misconstruction.'
' And she told Amelie about it, do you think?' asked Sybil.
' That occurs to one. There's Judy taking her Sunday walk. It's just like last year. She is coming here, and she shall give us advice.'
They called to her, but to hurry Judy when she was taking her exercise was an impossible task. However, she arrived at last, and the case was laid before her. She heard in silence, and turned to Ginger.
' Do you mind interfering?' she asked.
' No, I like it. What, then?'
' Write to Bertie. Tell him that Amelie called on Mrs. Emsworth that day.'
' Dear oracle,' observed Sybil.
Judy put down her sunshade, for here under the trees the shade was deep and the air cool.
' I hate seeing two excellent people making such a mess of their lives,' she said. ' They are both proud, they are both reticent, and neither will speak unless the other speaks first. I have a great belief in having things out. If only Amelie would pull Bertie's hair or scratch his face, and say “ What are you behaving like sour milk for?” or if only he would do that to her, something must happen. But they go on freezing and freezing—every day the ice gets thicker. Soon it will be frozen into a solid block. That is why I advise Ginger to throw a stone at it, so to speak, without delay.'
' I don't know that Bertie will thank me,' said Ginger. ' I don't think he takes the same pleasure in being interfered with as I take in interfering.'
' Probably not. But no situation can be worse than that which at present exists. I remember I was there when she told Bertie that she had given orders to make half a dozen boring-holes for coal in the park. She announced it in the
