Mr. Moulton, nothing loath, accordingly came in, took his glass, and sat
himself just where Bell directed, on a step at her feet. Amy colored, and
there was a subdued titter somewhere in the background, and Bell calmly
resumed the reins of the conversation. "No, there is no knowing what we
shall be put through this afternoon. One time when Mrs. Upjohn had got us
all safely inside her doors, she divided us smartly into two classes, set
herself in the middle, and announced that we were there for a spelling
bee. We shouldn't say we hadn't learned something at her house. And upon
my word we did learn something. Never before or since have I heard such
merciless words as she dealt us out. My hair stands on end still when I
recollect the horrors I underwent that day."

"I'll smuggle in a dictionary," declared Mr. Moulton. "I'll be
ready for her."

"No use. She never runs twice in the same groove. It's only sure not to
be a spelling bee this time."

"When we last went there it turned out to be a French _soirée_," said one
of the Misses Dexter, "and she announced that there would be a penny's
fine collected at the end of the evening for each English word spoken."

"Proceeds to go to a lately imported poor family," added the sister
Dexter. "There was quite a sum raised, and the head of the family
decamped with it two days after, for Heaven knows where, leaving his wife
and infants on Mrs. Upjohn's hands poorer than ever."

But Mrs. Upjohn's entertainment proved to be neither orthographic nor
linguistic. The guests arrived punctually as bidden, and their hostess,