lstery, and its
flapping curtains, was rarely taken out of the barn without a distinct
objective point in view. Church and prayer-meeting at the tiny frame
house of worship on the Pike were the principal dissipations of this
"household of women." Though Arethusa had often rebelled inwardly at
these arbitrary decisions which so limited her excursions abroad,
outward rebellion would have done her no good; Miss Eliza was firm and
ruled her little kingdom with a rod of iron.

Under cover of the discussion between Miss Eliza and Miss Letitia, Miss
Asenath was having a few ideas of her own on other subjects.

"Why," she asked Arethusa, in her soft voice, "why do you dislike
Timothy so much, dear?"

"Dislike Timothy, Aunt 'Senath!" Arethusa's eyes opened wide in
surprise, "Why, I don't, at all! I like him just lots!"

"Then why," continued Miss Asenath, smiling just a little, "do you
quarrel with him so?"

"I don't quarrel with him, Aunt 'Senath, dear.... Not.... Not much...."
added for the sake of honesty, after thought.

"I thought you all had rather a bad time at supper."

"Oh, that," Arethusa tossed her head, "that was all Timothy's fault.
He's.... He's just awful sometimes. He makes me so mad I could
just...." both hands clenched, "and he had on father's clothes!"

"I see. But he's worn them before, dear."

"I know he has, Aunt 'Senath, and every time he does, it makes me just
as mad. He.... He doesn't belong in Father's clothes! They don't suit
him at all!"

Miss Asenath was silent.

'Way deep down in her heart was a Wish; but it was a Wish she had
never expressed to anyone because she was wise, and she knew that
wishes expressed were often not granted.

Timothy and Arethusa were nearer and dearer to her than any two people
in the world. Timothy was his grandfather over again, name and all, she
sometimes thought.

Miss Asenath had not resented it when that first Timothy Jarvis had
married. It had hurt her a little, naturally, when she had first heard
of it; but her loving heart had very soon understood. An active man
could not be expected to view those months before that terrible fall as
did she, pinned always to the one spot. There were long hours of both
day and night in which she had naught to do but to lie still and
remember the joy of those months. And nothing could ever take that away
from her, she told herself: it was hers for always, and it was a great
deal. So she had clung to her miniature and