f measure, so she finished her artichoke to the last bitter
leaf, though she did not like that last leaf any better than she had
the first.

But it would be most unfair to chronicle all of Arethusa's vicissitudes
and mistakes during the course of that long dinner; her struggles with
her strange multitude of table-ware, which had a propensity for
disappearing decidedly odd, but to which Ross's own augmented supply
might have given her a clue, had she looked more sharply near his
plate, and the eating of dishes new to her and not always liked. For,
new dishes or not, Arethusa partook with heartiness of everything that
came her way; even to the tiny cup of coffee at the very end, with its
baby spoon which had so enraptured her as like a doll's, and which had
vanished mysteriously before she could use it so that George had had to
bring another.

She sighed the sigh of the well-fed when it was all over.

"I feel just like I would burst," she announced, as she pushed back
from the table. "We don't have half this much to eat at night at home!"

"Would you," asked Ross, most amused, "like to go to bed and sleep it
off? The instinct for which the lower animals are so commended leads
them to some such sensible proceeding after over-feeding, I believe."

"Go to bed!" exclaimed Arethusa, indignant at the bare suggestion.
"Why, we never think of going to bed at the Farm before nine or
half-past; and sometimes, even ten!"

"Ye gods! What hours! I'm surprised at Miss Eliza's permitting it!"

And Arethusa could not possibly tell, from his expression, whether he
was joking or not.

He strolled slowly across the hall to the music room, his daughter
following, the idea stirring within her brain that this new-found
father was inclined to be as much of a tease as Timothy, and that his
teasing was a trifle hard to understand. Elinor was going to play for
them. She played every night to Ross unless they went out somewhere.

"I can plainly see, Arethusa, my child," Ross added, "plainly see where
we're going to prove a most demoralizing influence for Miss Eliza's
careful rearing."

CHAPTER XIV

In the morning, Arethusa wrote the letter to Miss Eliza she had been
bidden to write as soon as possible after arrival in Lewisburg, giving
a sketchy description of her trip and the information that it had been
accomplished in safety, without mentioning a single one of the friends
made on the train; or that she had almost missed her