ons such a short while before.

"_Oh!_" Arethusa lunged forward and grabbed Miss Eliza around her
neck. "When, Aunt 'Liza? When? This morning? What did he say? Why
didn't you tell me? Did he say anything for me? Oh, Aunt 'Liza, what
did he say?"

These staccato questions were poured forth as fast as it is possible
for human lips to utter words.

Miss Eliza extricated herself from the embrace without interrupting her
progress.

"We considered it best, your Aunt 'Titia and I and your Aunt 'Senath,"
(She never spoke of herself and Arethusa's other great-aunts in any
different way or order, and why, no one could tell) "to discuss it
thoroughly among ourselves before we said anything to you about it. It
was a very unexpected letter; almost a shock, I might say, the
contents. It came yesterday afternoon. I wish, Arethusa, that you would
learn not to be so violent. You could have asked me about it without
nearly strangling me."

Every fibre of Arethusa's body quivered with impatience. What little
self-control she had, and Miss Eliza would have named it none at all,
was only managed with the greatest difficulty. Behind her aunt's
leadership she proceeded with little hops and skips. Her tongue burned
with all the rest of those questions she was so longing to ask.

A Letter from Father in the house ever since yesterday afternoon, and
she had not even seen it! It was the one time in weeks that she had not
gone down to the mail-box for the mail! So it always happened!

Suddenly Miss Eliza turned.

"You make me so nervous, Arethusa, jumping up and down that way behind
me, I could scream! Can't you _walk_!" Then she added, half to herself
and rather irrelevantly too, considering the gist of the foregoing
conversation. "I must say that I question very strongly the wisdom of
Sister 'Titia's decision."

All decisions were, nine cases out of ten, wholly Miss Eliza's; but in
conversation responsibility for them was generally shifted to Miss
Letitia.

Arethusa made a noble effort to compose herself and did her very utmost
to walk as she had been requested.

From long experience of her aunt, she knew it would do no earthly good
to ask a single one of those questions she so desired to have answered.
Miss Eliza told a person all that was necessary when she was quite
ready for it, herself, and without the least regard as to the state of
feverish impatience to which such a proceeding might bring a
petitioner. And very often, Aret