hat no one in his right
mind would consider blaming those girls in the least.

But as much as Mr. Bennet sought her company, it was Ross and not Mr.
Bennet, who had the pleasure of escorting her to her first football
game, on Thanksgiving day. And perhaps it was just as well, for on this
Occasion she created more excitement than the game itself by falling
down in between the rows of seats as she bodily assisted the ball of
her chosen side up the field to goal.

The automobile was another never ending source of delight. Clay had
become a sworn ally. He was at her beck and call with cheerful
willingness to do whatsoever she commanded, at any hour of the day or
night; and the weather was never too unseasonable to go out with a
machine if Miss Arethusa wanted it. Hitherto, Clay had been as careful
of those two shining cars in Elinor's garage as if they had been bound
to suffer permanently from mud splashes and rain drops. He taught her
how to run, first the smaller one and then the limousine, as Arethusa
insisted she be allowed to try it. She was so strong and quick that she
soon learned, and she really liked the larger car better, as it was
more powerful. Many an hour was spent out with Clay these first wintry
days, out on frosted country roads that crackled under the heavy tires
as they rushed along.

Arethusa, somehow, never went on one of these expeditions but that she
wished for Timothy. He would have loved it, she was sure; the rushing
through the country on wings of a swiftness almost unbelievable, and
feeling the heart of the big thing throbbing underneath her and
responding to her slightest touch as quickly as if it had been a toy,
instead of a monster that required a whole wide street in which to be
turned.

Ross informed her she was in a fair way to make some headlines for
breakfast tables, which he interpreted as meaning:

"BEAUTIFUL YOUNG DAUGHTER OF WEALTHY PARENTS ELOPES WITH HANDSOME
CHAUFFEUR!"

Then Arethusa must tell her father and Elinor all that she had learned
about Clay in these many rides, and about the girl he hoped to marry
some day, and about the invalid sister whom he supported.

For Elinor, warm-hearted as she was and as kind to everyone about her,
had not even known of their existence until Arethusa told her. But
Arethusa had been more than once to call at the tiny cottage where
Clay's invalid sister lived with the two stronger ones who worked, and
she had carried books and fru