ts; there was not one purely
decorative or "frilly" garment such as the heart of girlhood loves. It
was a wardrobe, without doubt, entirely of Miss Eliza's choosing.

"Aunt 'Liza," Arethusa knelt down by that lady's chair and put her
glowing face very close to her aunt's; her tone was most wheedling.
"Aunt 'Liza, is there any of my money left?"

"There is," declared Miss Eliza, with satisfaction. "There is. I've
saved your step-mother quite a tidy bit of what she sent. It's too bad
if Ross has married a woman with extravagant tastes just like his own;
too bad! But it would seem as if he had. All that money for just one
girl! Put your dress on again, child, you oughtn't to sit around that
way. Yes, you're going to have quite a sum to take back to your
step-mother."

Arethusa wished that Miss Eliza would not say "step-mother" with just
such an emphasis. It made her seem so undesirable a relative to have
acquired, Miss Eliza's way of saying the name. And Arethusa did not
choose to think of Elinor as anything undesirable. She was nothing that
was not perfect. She was certainly nothing that deserved to be
distinguished by such a term of reproach as that "step-mother."
Practising saying "Mother" very softly to herself, Arethusa had come to
regard Elinor that way, without the sign of a "step."

She ignored the injunction to put on her dress and leaned coaxingly
nearer to Miss Eliza, whose habitually stern expression softened
involuntarily. But how could she help it, with that glowing face
wheedling so close to her own? Miss Eliza, after all, was not wood or
iron.

"Then please, Aunt 'Liza, let me have another dress?"

"What do you want with another dress, 'Thusa?" Miss Eliza sounded
almost indulgent. "This silk one makes three new ones, counting your
suit."

"I know," Arethusa said, a trifle apologetically, as if she knew it
_was_ a strange request. "I know, but I want a Party Dress. I want,"
and she hurried on with the expression of her want in desperate haste
lest she be stopped before she had finished, "I want a Green Dress?"

"A green dress! Mercy on us! With your hair! Why, Arethusa
Worthington!" Miss Eliza was plainly horrified.

But Arethusa Worthington nodded, most hopefully.

"Nonsense! A person with hair as red as yours can't wear green! Of all
wild ideas!"

"I think she might look lovely in a soft shade of green," put in Miss
Asenath's sweet voice. "And so why can't she have a green party dress,
Siste