not because there's something funny?"

"Yes, I do, I do! And to know how to dress and to wear my hair--there
must be some place where you can learn those things. I've never had any
one to show me! It's only lately I've cared, but I'm seventeen, Joe--"
She faltered, came to a stop, and her whole body was shaken with sobs.
"I hate myself so for crying--for everything!"

Just then a colored waiter, smiling graciously, came out upon the porch,
bearing a tray of salad, hot oysters, and coffee. At his approach, Joe
had fallen prone on the floor in the shadow. Ariel shook her head to the
proffer of refreshments.

"I don't want any," she murmured.

The waiter turned away in pity and was reentering the window when a
passionate whisper fell upon his ear as well as upon Ariel's.

_"Take it!"_

"Ma'am?" said the waiter.

"I've changed my mind," she replied quickly. The waiter, his elation
restored, gave of his viands with the [v]superfluous bounty loved by his
race when distributing the product of the wealthy.

When he had gone, "Give me everything that's hot," said Joe. "You can
keep the salad."

"I couldn't eat it or anything else," she answered, thrusting the plate
between the palms.

For a time there was silence. From within the house came the continuous
babble of voices and laughter, the clink of [v]cutlery on china. The
young people spent a long time over their supper. By and by the waiter
returned to the veranda, deposited a plate of colored ices upon Ariel's
knees with a noble gesture, and departed.

"No ice for me," said Joe.

"Won't you please go now?" she entreated.

"It wouldn't be good manners," he joked. "They might think I only came
for the supper."

"Give me the dish and coffee-cup," she whispered, impatiently. "Suppose
the waiter came and had to look for them? Quick!"

A bottle-shaped figure appeared in the window, and she had no time to
take the plate and cup which were being pushed through the palm-leaves.
She whispered a word of warning, and the dishes were hurriedly withdrawn
as Norbert Flitcroft, wearing a solemn expression of injury, came out
upon the veranda.

"They want you. Some one's come for you."

"Oh, is grandfather waiting?" She rose.

"It isn't your grandfather that has come for you," answered the fat one,
slowly. "It is Eskew Arp. Something's happened."

She looked at him for a moment, beginning to tremble violently, her eyes
growing wide with fright.

"Is my grandfather--