er
thought for the gay scene before her, until he asked her if she would
mind telling Miss Worthington that Mr. Harrison was waiting for her.

Then she turned and smiled such a welcome of him from her shining eyes,
that the weather-vane of Mr. Harrison's volatile affections veered to
point straight Arethusa-ward.

"Oh, it's you! I'm so glad! I've been wishing you'd come! I thought
maybe you'd forgotten!"

And the weather-vane became firmly fixed.

But Mr. Harrison felt as if some audible apology were surely due this
dream of a girl for all those unkind things he had thought (and
uttered), earlier in the evening, that her entertainment should have
devolved upon himself. He considered himself now the very luckiest of
mortals.

Arethusa laughed at his attempt at vindication of his first greeting of
her, that ripply soft laugh of hers, and the susceptible Mr. Harrison
named it the most musical, and the prettiest, laugh he had ever heard.

"You didn't know me, did you? I don't wonder, because I was so wrapped
up when you came for me, and it was Mother's cloak! She thought I might
take cold, because I'm not used to going out at night, and my own cloak
wasn't near warm enough, she said; and so she...."

Then Arethusa paused, and flushed prettily with embarrassment. One did
not confide such intimate personalities to strange gentlemen at
Parties, she was quite sure, from that close study of the little book.
She must be more careful of her tongue.

But Mr. Harrison cared not a bit what she said, or whether she ever
said anything at all. She was a joy for him to behold if she never
opened her mouth. He escorted her, with the pride of a personal
possession, to Mrs. Chestnut and introduced her. Mrs. Chestnut held her
hand kindly for a moment and spoke of Elinor, and expressed a Hope that
Arethusa would have a Good Time; then passed her on to Emily, who was
almost hidden behind a mass of roses she carried, and so excited at the
Whole Affair, she could pay no real attention to Arethusa; but she
managed to transfer her to her older sister just next; and the older
sister to a cousin or so next to her, and a bosom friend or two thrown
in for good measure.

It was a long receiving line and Arethusa was so utterly bewildered
long before she had ever reached the end of it, by this way she was
shoved, so to speak, from person to person, without ever really finding
out who half of them were, for it would seem as if there had been a