?"

"Oh, Sister, don't!"

Miss Letitia gazed distressfully from Miss Eliza to Arethusa, and then
back to Miss Eliza again. Her round, good-natured little face was all
drawn up and distorted with worry, just as it always was when war
threatened, even remotely, between Miss Eliza and Arethusa. And these
bouts concerning the girl's marriage to Timothy occurred so often
without any advantage to either side.

"Because I shan't."

"That's no reason. You must have some sort of a reason. You can have no
really valid objection to Timothy, Arethusa. He is quite handsome, and
very likeable. _I_ am devoted to him, myself."

Miss Asenath felt quite like answering for Arethusa that this last
statement was most irrelevant, but she refrained. There was really no
use in adding the slightest fuel to flames already sufficiently high.

"You speak of the land being plaited in and out," continued Miss Eliza,
looking sternly over her glasses. "That was a most foolish remark. Such
a thing could never be, and you know it. I do not want you to marry
Timothy for his land, of course. I merely mention its situation as next
to what will some day be your own as making the alliance just that much
more desirable. For heaven knows what will happen to the Farm when you
do get it, if you haven't some sensible man to take care of it for you!
But there are other things about Timothy that would make him a husband
any girl could be proud of. There are plenty of them in this very
County would jump at the chance you've had."

"They're very welcome to him!"

Arethusa thought it best not to say this too loud, but unfortunately
Miss Eliza heard.

"I'm ashamed of you, Arethusa, if you're not ashamed of yourself. It's
throwing away the opportunity of a life-time. I wish I was young, and
in your shoes. Have you refused him lately?"

No answer from Arethusa. She picked at the soft blue fleece of Miss
Asenath's comfort until she had collected quite a little pile of down,
which she made into a ball and put as carefully to one side as if she
intended it for some future use. Miss Asenath watched her
sympathetically. If it would have done the slightest good she would
have entered the breach, but when Miss Eliza reached the stage of her
argument of pointblank questions, it meant pursuit to the bitter end.

Miss Letitia was not so wise. She had made three attempts to catch the
loop of the same stitch in her crocheting, and failed each time, in her
excitement. T