nty on their arrival as to where they
were to be put, and as to their meals.

Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies,
who were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them
was very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered
from a moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort
of factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of
invalids to appear.

"Regular bed-ridden," Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza
did not consider respectful.

Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the
house, very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it
in admirable order.

Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and
ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and
tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted
that it was to be "tea," and if they were unused to a late dinner they
might be disturbed if they had only provided a "tea."

So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised
when Martha replied, "The lady must say," nodding to Mrs. Peterkin.
"She can have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!"

This was an unexpected courtesy.

Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper.

"Oh, they took it a long time ago," Martha answered. "If the lady will
go out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants."

"Bring us in what you have," said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry.
"If you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well."

"Perhaps some eggs," murmured Mrs. Peterkin.

"Scrambled," cried one of the little boys.

"Fried potatoes would not be bad," suggested Agamemnon.

"Couldn't we have some onions?" asked the little boy who had stayed at
home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their
supper.

"A pie would come in well," said Solomon John.

"And some stewed cherries," said the other little boy.

Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased,
when, in the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended
appeared. Their appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food
the same.

"This is true Arab hospitality," said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his
juicy beefsteak.

"I know it," said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. "We
have not even seen the host and hostess."

She would, indeed, have been gla