rienced the intense pleasure of this
one-step with Mr. Bennet. But Arethusa was honestly surprised at her
own swallow-like ability to keep time to music that was played instead
of whistled.

Then Mr. Harrison caught sight of her and rushed across the room to
claim her. He had been hunting everywhere for her, he declared.

Then Mr. Watts came in his turn, and inquired saucily, as he "broke
in," if she had found Mr. Bennet as charming as he looked. But she
laughed at him merrily, for his friendly teasing. She was too happy to
be offended at anything.

And she laughed and chatted away with these two oldest acquaintances
her most enthusiastic and Arethusa-like self; with every one introduced
to her she had just as Wonderful a Time. There were a great many who
asked to be introduced to her, for her shining eyes and her very
evident enjoyment of everything she did made her an object of interest
to nearly everybody who observed her. Arethusa was really one of the
belles of the evening; such unreserved happiness as hers is bound to
attract. Consequently, the Party fulfilled her most sanguine
expectations as to what a Party should be, although she did not know
how large was her own personal share in this fulfillment.

She entirely forgot that she had ever prepared a Topic of Conversation
for the Occasion; she made no other mention of moths and butterflies;
not once did she quote a line of Poetry. Her words poured forth in as
mad a rush, as gaily inconsequential, as the words of the most hardened
Party-goer who has ever been an assistance to her hostess in adding to
the enjoyment of her fellow guests. Without making any conscious effort
to do so, Arethusa followed Mr. Watts' kindly advice, and his words as
to the result proved delightfully true.

The terpsichorean attempts which she made during the evening without
Mr. Bennet's able guidance, might have been managed with a little more
gratifying success, had not her eyes been so prone to follow him in his
whirling about the room, wherever she could, as he honored other ladies
with his attentions. But when she did miss step, or stumbled, her
apologies were so pretty, and she was so sincere in her confused
regrets, that it could make no difference to any one with his heart in
the right place.

Yet Mr. Bennet came back to Arethusa herself quite often to ask for
dances--a truly flattering number of times--for it was a kindly fate
that had given her that lightness of foot and he