by Nell Speed
CHAPTER X.
THE ZEPPELIN RAID.
Judy's cry did her good, although it left her in such a swollen stateshe was not fit to keep shop, which was what she had planned to do forthe afternoon.
"I think I'll go round to the studio in Rue Brea for a little while. Iwant to get some things."
What she really wanted was to get a bath and to be alone for a fewhours. Her kind hosts thought it would be wise to let her do whatevershe wanted, so they gave her God-speed but begged her not to be outlate.
Judy now longed for solitude with the same eagerness she had beforelonged for companionship. She knew it would be unwise for her to giveup to this desire to any extent and determined to get back to her kindfriends before dark, but be alone she must for a while. She got the keyfrom the concierge and entered the studio. All was as she had left it.Windows and doors opened wide soon dispelled the close odor. A cold bathin the very attractive white porcelain tub, the pride of the Bents, madepoor Judy feel better in spite of herself.
"I don't want to feel better. I've been brave and noble all morning andnow I want to be weak and miserable. I don't care whether school keepsor not. I am a poor, forlorn, broken-hearted girl, without any friendsin all the world except some Normandy peasants. The Browns will all hateme, and my mother and father I may never see again. Oh, Kent! Kent! Whydidn't you just pick me up and make me go with you? If you had beenvery, very firm, I'd have gone."
Judy remembered with a grim smile how in old days at college she hadlonged to wear mourning and how absurd she had made herself by dyeingher hair and draping herself in black. "I'm going into mourning now. Itis about all I can do for Kent. It won't cost much and somehow I'd feelbetter." Judy, ever visualizing, pictured herself in black with organdycollar and cuffs and a mournful, patient look. "I'll just go on sellingtarts. It will help the Tricots and give me my board." She counted outher money, dwindled somewhat, but now that she was working she felt shemight indulge her grief to the extent of a black waist and some whitecollars and cuffs. "I've got a black skirt and I'll get my blue suitdyed to-morrow. I'll line my black sport hat with white crepe. That willmake it do." In pity for herself, she wept again.
She slipped out of the studio and made her few purchases at a littleshop around the corner. Madame, the proprietaire, was all sympathy. Shehad laid in an especial stock of cheap mourning, she told Judy, as therewas much demand for it now.
It took nimble fingers to turn the jaunty sport hat into a sad littlemourning bonnet, but Judy was ever clever at hat making, and whenshe finished just before the sun set, she viewed her handiwork withpardonable pride. She slipped into her cheap black silk waist and pinnedon the collar and cuffs. The hat was very becoming, so much so thatJudy had another burst of tears.
"I can't bear for it to be becoming. I want to look as ugly and forlornas possible."
She determined to leave her serge suit in the studio and come on thefollowing day to take it to a dye shop. As she was to do this, shedecided not to leave the key with the concierge but take it with her.
Her kind friends looked sadly at the mourning. They realized when theysaw it that Judy had given up all hope of her friend.
"Ah, the pity of it! The pity of it!" exclaimed the old grenadier.
Marie, whose apple-like countenance was not very expressive of anythingbut health, looked as sympathetic as the shape of her face would allow.Round rosy cheeks, round black eyes, and a round red mouth are not easyto mold into tragic lines, but Judy knew that Marie was feeling deeplyfor her. She was thinking of her Jean and the possibility of turning herbridal finery into mourning. There was so much mourning now andaccording to the _Temps_, the war was hardly begun.
"I'll have my serge suit dyed to-morrow," Judy confided to her.
"Ah, no! Do not have it dyed! Mere Tricot and I can do it here and do itbeautifully. The butcher's wife over the way is dyeing to-morrow and shewill give us some of her mixture. It is her little brother who fell onlyyesterday."
That night there was great excitement in the Montparnasse quarter. Afleet of air ships circled over the city, dropping bombs as they flew.The explosions were terrific. The people cowered in their homes at firstand then came rushing out on the streets as the noise subsided.
Pere Tricot came back with the news that no great harm had been done,but it was his opinion that the Prussians had been after the Luxembourg.
"They know full well that our art treasures are much to us, and theywould take great pleasure in destroying them. The beasts!"
"Where did the bombs strike?" asked Judy from her couch in the livingroom. She had wept until her pillow had to be turned over and then hadat last sunk into a sleep of exhaustion only to be awakened by theear-splitting explosions.
"I don't know exactly, but it was somewhere over towards the Gardens ofthe Luxembourg. I thank the good God you were here with us, my child."
