he loss of life or
limb on her way back to impart this Marvelous piece of news, for such a
plunge across slippery floors was never made before. Ross and Elinor
seemed quite as excited over it as she could have wished, and had a
very proper appreciation of the Signal Honor paid their daughter by the
Princely-looking Mr. Bennet, although Ross was rather regretful that he
had not realized before that she had never attended the theater. He
would have taken her himself.

Elinor's most immediate concern was for the costume, and after due
deliberation of Arethusa's slender wardrobe, it was decided a purchase
must be made for this Occasion.

The next day was the longest that Arethusa had ever spent, in spite of
all that had to be done toward getting ready for the theater
expedition. The hands of the little silver clock on her mantel seemed
to Arethusa to be afflicted with a sort of palsy, during the last hours
of that day. She consulted them with frequency, but they never seemed
to move forward enough to be noticeable. And deeming something to have
happened to the clock, for surely time could not creep so slowly by,
she was ready and waiting for Mr. Bennet long before the stroke of
eight.

On this visit to Miss Rosa, she had produced a Dress of the soft colors
of the tinted autumn leaves, shading into almost the color of the
bronzy hair of the girl who was to wear it. It was made with soft skirt
on top of soft skirt, in these tones, of shimmering chiffon. It was as
Wonderful a Frock in its way as the Green Frock itself. Arethusa fairly
held her breath with delight when she saw it. And as it was such a very
Momentous Occasion, far too momentous for anything borrowed to be worn,
Elinor purchased her daughter, to wear with this dress, a cloak of soft
velvet in deep olive green with a collar of fluffy brown fur that
framed her glowing face in the most fascinating way possible.

So Mr. Bennet could not help but approve her appearance as he handed
her into the automobile. He liked those ladies he escorted to
festivities to do him credit. He was as much addicted to a liking for
feminine loveliness as was ever Mr. Harrison. For Mr. Bennet had looked
in the mirror often, and being a person of discernment, had liked what
he had seen there; and he had a deep and abiding sense of the fitness
of things. Had the gods been less kind to Arethusa in the matter of
looks, undoubtedly her adoration of Mr. Bennet must have remained of a
distan