womanly prerogatives," replied Elsie.

"Well," said Tom, "there seems to be no end to them."

Everybody laughed at his tone, and Tom sat down near Elsie, tumbling her
work, and making signs to her to go out of the room, that he might
secure a few moments alone with her, but the little witch pretended not
to understand his signals in the least, and went on demurely with her
work.

"You ruin my work!" cried she, snatching her embroidery from his touch.
"What on earth are you making such faces for?"

Tom laughed in a distressed way, red with confusion.

"Dazzled by your presence, Elsie," cried the widow, seeing that Tom had
not presence of mind enough for the compliment.

Elizabeth began to get restless again; it was perfectly impossible for
her to keep quiet any length of time that day, and she made some excuse
for leaving them.

"Let me go with you," said Mrs. Harrington; "I know you are going to
order luncheon, and I should so like to get a peep at your kitchen; it
is a perfect Flemish picture."

"Particularly the crowd of dusky faces," said Elsie. "Mary Harrington,
you're a humbug."

"I am sure she is quite right," said Tom, anxious to insure her
departure; "I was in the kitchen one day and it looked as picturesque as
Niagara."

Elsie perfectly understood the motive which led him to speak, and
hastened to rejoin:

"If you think it so stupendous you had better accompany them, and get
another peep."

"No," said Tom; "I might disturb the colored persons; I'll stay where I
am."

"Bless me," cried Elsie; "what consideration! You will be bursting into
unpremeditated poetry about the dark future, before we know it."

"Oh, Elsie," said Mrs. Harrington, "what a provoking creature you are."

She followed Elizabeth out of the room, and Tom was alone at last with
his idol.

"Are you sorry I am going?" he asked.

"Do I look so?" she asked.

"No, you don't."

"Well, looks can't tell fibs," said she, provokingly.

"Oh, Elsie, be good to me now; just think; I shall be gone a whole
week!"

"It's a calamity I dare not contemplate," replied she. "Now, whatever
you do, don't break your neck in those horrid coal mines, or come back
smelling of brimstone like a theatrical fiend."

"I believe you would jest during an earthquake."

"If it would stop the thing shaking I might," she answered. "There,
there, don't be cross, Tom."

Elsie threw down her work, and with one of her quick changes of manner
brought her