her previous disesteem.

Arnold hesitated, his own self-confidence as evidently dashed.
"Well--I can fence a little--and talk French; we are in Paris winters,
you know. We don't stay in Lydford for the winter. Nobody does."

"_Everybody_ goes away?" queried Judith. "What a funny town!"

"Oh, except the people who _live_ there--the Vermonters."

Judith was more and more at a loss. "Don't _you_ live there?"

"No, we don't _live_ anywhere. We just stay places for a while. Nobody
that we know lives anywhere." He interrupted a further question from
the astonished Judith to ask, "How'd you happen to have such a dandy
swimming-pool out of such a little brook?"

Judith, switched off upon a topic of recent and absorbing interest,
was diverted from investigation into the odd ways of people who
lived nowhere. "Isn't it great!" she said ardently. "It's new this
summer--that's why I don't swim so very well yet. Why, it was this
way. The creek ran through a corner of our land, and a lot of Father's
students that are engineers or something, wanted to do something
for Father when they graduated--lots of students do, you know--and
everybody said the creek didn't have water enough and they bet each
other it did, and after Commencement we had a kind of camp for
a week--tents and things all round here--and Mother cooked for
them--camp fires--oh, lots of fun!--and they let us children tag
around as much as we pleased--and they and Father dug, and fixed
concrete--say, did you ever get let to stir up concrete? It's great!"