announced, as sternly as Miss Eliza herself might
have spoken, "if you ever even try to kiss me again, like you did last
night, I'll do something worse to you than just slap. I'll ... I'll ...
It's ... I don't like to be kissed."

"But you used to kiss me," Timothy sat upright, here was his alibi and
a chance to defend himself.

"I know I did, but we were babies. That was ages ago, and it's very,
very different. Grown girls don't kiss grown men. It's not nice.
It's.... It's just like poor white trash!"

And with last stroke of annihilation, Arethusa departed for the house
and Miss Letitia and her fitting, with Miss Johnson trotting at her
heels, leaving Timothy in abject abandonment to misery under the willow
tree.

CHAPTER IX

Miss Eliza eyed Arethusa over her glasses with stern displeasure. She
dropped her sewing into her lap and prepared to take the delinquent one
to task.

"Where have you been all this time? Your Aunt 'Titia's been ready and
waiting for you a half hour at least."

"Oh, Sister, not quite that long." Miss Letitia's deprecatory accents
made an attempt (and it could always be only an attempt) to stem the
tide of Miss Eliza's severity. "It's not been more than fifteen
minutes, I'm sure."

"Your aunt has been ready and waiting for you a half hour at least!"
repeated Miss Eliza, firmly. "Didn't you understand from her message
that she wanted you? And I had to call you, myself, finally."

"Well, I didn't get any message.... Timothy didn't tell me she wanted
me, so how was I to know? I came right straight away when I heard you."

"You've been quarreling with Timothy again!"

"_I have not!_"

And at Arethusa's irritable tone, Miss Asenath looked up, startled. It
was so decided a contradiction, and not one of the household ever
contradicted Miss Eliza. This gentlest one was a trifle the most
discerning of the sisters, and she wondered if any other chapters to
last night's incident had been added under the willow tree.

"Don't you speak to me in that manner, Arethusa," Miss Eliza was
surprised almost into a mildness of reproof.

"I didn't mean to be impertinent, Aunt 'Liza," faltered the culprit.

She was a wee bit frightened at her own temerity after that emphatic
contradiction had burst forth. But anger at Timothy had over-ridden
discretion, with that question concerning him and Miss Eliza's obvious
inclination to side with him; last night's events were still clear in
Arethusa's mi