“So you like your new friends, my dear,” said Miss Hetty. “They must be banished to the shed now for their dinner while you and I eat ours. Do you hear Arctura’s signal to us?” There came a sound unlike anything Polly had ever heard; it was not exactly a bell; she couldn’t imagine what it was. Miss Hetty held out her hand with a smile, and Polly, still with Snip and Snap on her shoulders, was led out of the library, across the porch hall to a big, sunny dining-room. On the table, at Miss Hetty’s place, stood a strange thing with three bronze cups upside down, a little one highest up, one somewhat larger under it, and one still larger at the bottom; at least that was the way it looked to Polly. Arctura stood close to it with a little stick in her hand; she struck the bronze cups as Polly looked at her, and again the musical sound was heard. “There, I reckoned you’d never heard anything like that!” said Arctura as she beamed on Polly, and then took the kittens from the little girl’s shoulders. “That’s a heathen invention, called a gong, brought to Miss Pomeroy by her Uncle Pete. I hope you’ll relish your food; I’ve got no time to sit down now,” said Arctura, and bearing Snip and Snap in her arms she marched out of a doorway through which there was a glimpse of the kitchen. Arctura Green had never sat at the table with Miss Pomeroy in all the years of her faithful service, but it was understood to be purely a matter of choice on her part, and a few words were spoken now and then to make this state of affairs clear to any chance visitor. Polly ate her steak and potato and fresh bread and butter, sitting opposite Miss Pomeroy, and only speaking in answer to questions. She looked at the spotless white table-cloth with its rose and fern pattern, at the shining glass tumblers, and the big glass water bottle, at the fat silver tea-pot and sugar-bowl, and the slender spoons and forks, at the knives, with mother-of-pearl handles, at the white plates with dull blue figures that matched those on the platter, and at the big bread plate with its gold rim. Then she looked at the buffet on which there were all sorts of shining things. “It is because everything is so wonderful in the house that they like to stay here better than out-doors,” thought Polly, but in spite of everything her eyes turned wistfully to the window. The sunshine flickered and danced among the branches of the Pomeroy oaks, and Polly gave a half sigh as she looked at it. “Don’t you like your pudding, my dear?” asked Miss Hetty, and the little girl turned quickly to her dinner again.