e of the most interesting and peculiar of
the names of the families, so as to be ready when the "member of the
other sex next whom she was seated at the festive board" should become
so interested in her Topic of Conversation as to inquire.

One of these names was "Nymphlidae," which the writer of the article
declared was the largest family of all; and included the commonest of
the gaily colored butterflies one saw flying about every day. Arethusa
took a deep personal interest in this family, because of its name. She
was well acquainted with nymphs, and knew exactly where her own pretty
name had been found. This was all sure to prove interesting to her
fellow diners-out. It was most fascinating to read.

Elinor and Nettie, Elinor's maid, helped Arethusa to dress for the
Party.

It was well that she had their assistance, for she could never have got
into that Green Frock alone and unaided. There was an intricacy and
invisibility of fastening about it that her trembling, excited fingers
could never have managed. Nettie, with the air of an artist loving her
work, piled Arethusa's hair up high to show the sweep of the line of
her neck and head which Elinor, watching critically from the green
sofa, decided was particularly good. And Nettie poked and pulled and
fussed with Arethusa as one who dressed a beloved doll, and the result
was altogether good.

Ross had hied himself to the florist and his daughter was the recipient
of her first flowers, an anonymous bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley
which caused much excitement, largely compounded of pleasure, when they
arrived; and which looked just as if they had grown with the other wee
blossoms out of the green of the frock when Elinor pinned them at its
waist.

Arethusa found it hard to believe that the reflection she gazed at in
her own long mirror was herself, even after seeing that other so
glorified Arethusa in the mirrors of the shop the other day; for this
was still more Wonderful. It was metamorphosis from the crown of her
head to the soles of her feet. The new arrangement of her hair imparted
an air of quaint dignity that was immensely becoming and that made her
appear a trifle older. Its piled masses shown like burnished copper
under the bright glare of numerous electric lights; and under the same
brilliance her arms and neck seemed more like creamy satin than ever.
She noted with deep satisfaction that the tiny bridge of freckles which
she considered absolutely spoil