"Perhaps you'd like to go and lie down," persisted Elsie. "You look fatigued," said Mrs. Harrington. "Do I, ma'am; you're kind, I'm sure," snapped the spinster, trying to smile. "I never lie down in the daytime; I'm very comfortable where I am, thank you." She might be very perfectly at ease herself, but she made her father very uncomfortable, while Elsie and the widow never gave over teasing for a single instant, till Elizabeth returned to the room. Luckily dinner was announced, and the asperity of Miss Jemima's feelings softened a little by that, especially as she reflected that her father would be obliged to lead Mrs. Mellen into the dining-room. But that dreadful Elsie destroyed even that forlorn hope. "Bessie," said she, "we must ask Mr. Rhodes to play host and sit at the foot of the table, so he shall lead Mrs. Harrington in." Even Elizabeth could not repress a smile at the little elf's malicious craft, and there was nothing to be said. The wretched Jemima grew fairly white with rage, but she was obliged to control herself, and the dinner passed off in the most social, neighborly fashion. At a very early hour Miss Jemima insisted upon returning home, but Elsie had a parting shaft ready for her. "I have persuaded Mrs. Harrington and these gentlemen to stay over to-morrow," said she. "May I promise them that we'll all drive to your house and take luncheon, Miss Jemima, by way of returning your visit." The spinster was compelled to express her gratification. She could do no less, after having invited herself and her father to dinner at Piney Cove, but her face was a perfect study while the pleasant words fell from her compressed lips, like bullets from a mould. "We shall be in ecstasy," said Mr. Rhodes. "You will be in New York," retorted Jemima; "you have to go early in the morning." "My dear, the day after will do as well." "Now, pa, you know you said----" "Oh, Miss Jemima," broke in Elsie, "I shall think you don't want us to come!" "And I," said the widow, "shall be mortally offended if Mr. Rhodes runs away the very first time I have the pleasure of visiting his house." "Of course, of course!" said the stout man. "My daughter, Mimy, is a great business woman--girl, I mean--but on an occasion like this even business must wait. Ladies, I go home to dream of the honor to-morrow will bring." "Well, pa, if we're going at all, I think we'd better start," cried the spinster; "we are keeping the horses in the cold." She made her farewells very brief and carried off her parent in triumph, darting a last defiant look at the widow as she passed. The moment they were gone Elsie went into convulsions of laughter, and clapping her pretty white hands like a child, cried out: "She'll poison you, Mary Harrington, I know she will." "My dear, I'll eat luncheon before I go."