Beth recalled the three little shops at home, the gimcracks that were not pretty, nor useful, which appeared in them at this season, Janie’s and her own shopping in them, their long discussions over articles that cost about a quarter, or half, of a dollar, for which they had long saved their spending money! She deliberately pricked herself with the pin of Janie’s brooch to see if she were really here in the body, not dreaming in her small iron bed, in that far-off Massachusetts chamber which was hers. Natalie saw her do this and demanded the reason for it. “Nothing,” said Beth blushing. “Have you other cousins, Natalie? I haven’t any but you. It seems queer that you have any but me.” “Mother’s sister’s boys and her brother’s girls,” replied Natalie. “The girls are in California; Aunt Justine is not well. The boys are living in Washington, the state. Uncle Hubert wanted them to study scientific agriculture, so he bought a big farm there. I suppose they will come east again. Of course you haven’t any cousins but us; father had no other sister but your mother, no brother. Oh, I forgot there might be Bristead cousins! Aren’t there?” “No,” said Beth. “My father was the youngest of five children and the other four died of diphtheria, all together, when he was a baby. It must have been awful for their mother. Of course it kept me from any Bristead cousins, too.” “We will lunch now, my dears; it is high time,” Aunt Alida interposed just then, opportunely, for Natalie hardly knew how to reply with proper sympathy to this story whose tragedy seemed spent and impersonal now. Aunt Alida took her three to lunch at a place of the utmost perfection. Beth was getting used to imposing restaurants and they no longer took away her appetite. But the music of the small, but excellent orchestra made eating difficult; Beth was helpless under the spell of good music. Aunt Alida had chosen this place for its orchestra, knowing how Beth would enjoy it; for her own part she preferred music and eating separate. “Is that three-quarter, or four-four time, Aunt Alida?” Beth asked after a long silence. “Six-eight, dear. Why? And I didn’t know you had been taught music,” cried Aunt Alida. “I was beginning to be taught; a new young lady came to live in our town and she was teaching me. I hadn’t gone far. The reason I asked was that I was trying to eat my roll in time and I couldn’t make my teeth keep right with four-four counting. No wonder, if it was six-eight! I didn’t have much in six-eight time, but I like it; it seems to go right along, so smooth and nice,” said Beth. And this speech caused Alys to choke so violently over her lunch that it was a long while before she could stop coughing and eat again in any time whatever.