waters might return. At least, it could do no sort of harm. She was a
dear child!

Which explains why Arethusa received a long green box, brought to her
by George as she ate her luncheon. It was a box of American Beauties
with stems a yard long, roses that were far too beautiful as roses to
be real, and that seemed to Arethusa to have gathered all the perfume
of heaven within their deep, red centers. She sniffed and smelled them
in ecstasy; and stroked the glossy green leaves that spread out from
their stems, so marvelous as leaves. She could hardly part with them
that they might be put in the tallest vase on the library table, which
would display their beauty to the greatest advantage.

Inside the box was a tiny note....

"Would Miss Worthington do Mr. Bennet the honor of reserving the
date of the January Cotillion for him?"

"But that's so awfully far off," objected Arethusa, as she read this
communication aloud to her interested parents. "It's only the first of
November right now!"

It was entirely too lovely of Mr. Bennet to send her roses; it heaped
coals of fire with effective vengeance. She was almost ashamed to
accept them. But she did wish that he had made that engagement for
something a trifle closer at hand.

"You little goose!" exclaimed Ross. "Why, that is _the_ event of the
whole Lewisburg season! And not one debutante in ten out of a winter
ever gets to go! As superlative as I'll have to admit Mr. Bennet's
taste in flowers, I believe most girls would care far more about that
invitation than they would about the roses!"

"Really!" Arethusa brightened up considerably.

"I'd let a man laugh at me every day from now till Christmas if he'd
ask me to go to the January Cotillion with him," continued Ross, "that
is, if I was a young lady with any hope of being a social success."

"But he wasn't laughing at me," protested his daughter. She had
narrated the affair in detail. "I told you that, Father. He said very
positively he wasn't laughing at me!"

"Well," replied Ross, "it makes no difference what caused his mirth, it
seems to me that I'd assuredly welcome it, with such effect!"

CHAPTER XIX

Arethusa was going shopping, and going shopping for the very first time
in her life, alone.

And thereby hangs a tale.

Wednesday coming was Miss Asenath's birthday, and Arethusa had
completely lost track of that important fact to forget it until this
Monday morning. She, who had given Mis