bestowed upon Abbie, as Mr. Foster joined the group.

"Will you receive me into this circle, and enlighten me as regards
this particular absurdity," he said, seating himself near Mrs. Ried.

"Oh it was nothing remarkable," that lady replied in her most
sarcastic tone. "At least it is quite time we were growing accustomed
to this new order of things. Abbie is trying to enlighten her father
on the new and interesting question of temperance, especially as it
is connected with wedding parties, in which she is particularly
interested just at present."

Abbie bestowed an appealing glance on Mr. Foster, and remained
entirely silent.

"I believe I can claim equal interest then in the matter," he answered
brightly. "And will petition you, Mrs. Ried, to explain the point at
issue."

"Indeed, Mr. Foster, I'm not a temperance lecturer, and do not
consider myself competent to perform the awful task. I refer you
to Abbie, who seems to be thoroughly posted, and very desirous of
displaying her argumentative powers."

Still silence on Abbie's part, and only a little tremble of the
lip told a close observer how deeply she felt the sharp tones and
unmotherly words. Mrs. Ried spoke at last, in calm, measured accents.

"My daughter and I, Mr. Foster, differ somewhat in regard to the
duties and privileges of a host. I claim the right to set before my
guests whatever _I_ consider proper. She objects to the use of wine,
as, perhaps, you are aware. Indeed, I believe she has imbibed her very
peculiar views from you; but I say to her that as I have always been
in the habit of entertaining my guests with that beverage, I presume I
shall continue to do so."

Mr. Foster did not seem in the mood to argue the question, but
responded with genial good humor. "Ah but, Mrs. Ried, you ought to
gratify your daughter in her parting request. That is only natural and
courteous, is it not?"

Mrs. Ried felt called upon to reply. "We have gratified so many of
her requests already that the whole thing bids fair to be the most
ridiculous proceeding that New York has ever witnessed. Fancy a dozen
rough boys banging and shouting through my house, eating cake enough
to make them sick for a month, to say nothing of the quantity which
they will stamp into my carpets, and all because they chance to belong
to Abbie's mission class!"

Ralph and Ester had joined the group in the meantime, and the former
here interposed.

"That last argument isn't valid, mothe