that be a Party, a Real Party?" The excited scribe abandoned
her letter altogether, and followed Elinor over by the fire-place,
nearer to Ross and the davenport, "Isn't that a Party?"

"I should say it was!"

"I've never been to a Party," apologetically explained Arethusa, "and
I've wanted to go to one ever since I can remember. Aunt 'Senath said
there would be parties in the City, and that I might be invited!
But...." some of the glow began to fade, "I don't know Mrs. Chestnut,
Mother."

"That doesn't make any difference this time, Arethusa dear, because
she's one of my best friends. And all her parties are wonderful, so if
you've really never been to any at all, you're starting in in the right
way to enjoy them," said Elinor, and Arethusa glowed once more. "I had
hardly dared hope she would invite you," she continued, "because I
supposed her list was made up long ago. It's for Emily, her daughter.
You'll like Emily; she's just about your age, and she's coming out this
winter. It's to be at the Boden Hotel, I think she said. But she's
going to send an escort for you."

What richness of prospect!

Yet with her joy, Arethusa puzzled for a moment over some of the
obscurer items of her mother's speech.

"Why doesn't she have her party at home instead of a hotel," she
enquired, "and what is Emily coming out of?"

"Your mother used the wrong words, Arethusa," volunteered Ross from the
davenport; "she means to say that Mrs. Chestnut's daughter is on
exhibition after some years of careful preparation by her mother for
just this event and will be gladly presented to the man offering to
take her off her mother's weary hands. Said mother will be fearfully
disappointed, if, after all this trouble and expense, no man should
offer. And as to her not having the party at her home, she thinks far
too much of her furniture and Persian rugs and pale pink walls to allow
her daughter's callow young friends to romp around among them for a
whole evening."

Arethusa looked at him uncertainly, but his expression was one of
perfect seriousness. It was even a trifle sad.

"Is she really like that, Father?"

"Really like that," replied Ross sorrowfully.

"Then," announced Arethusa with decision, and her red mouth pursed
disapprovingly, "I don't believe that I want to go to her party!"

Elinor struggled between exasperation and a desire to laugh.

"Mrs. Chestnut is lovely, Arethusa, and so is her daughter. They only
have the dance