Those were red letter days for Ethel.  She enjoyed the air, the scenery, and the rides; and she enjoyed talking to Harvey, for now that he understood she could talk to him as though he were one of the family—­without restriction and without embarrassment.

“What puzzles me,” said Ethel, “is the way our mothers argue.  When they plan our marriages it’s only money and position.  Love never seems to enter into their heads.  Oh!  I grew so tired of it.  Thank God it’s over, and our family are now normal.  Even Grandmother wished me to marry well.  I had far rather be an old maid than to be tied to a man for whom I care nothing, and have to sit opposite and pour tea for him three hundred and sixty-five days in a year.  Imagine the horrible monotony of that.  I heard that advice given to a girl in a play and I never forgot it; and if only girls could be brought to realize beforehand the sin of it there would be fewer unhappy marriages.”

CHAPTER IV

ETHEL’S SECOND TRIP

The time arrived for the Hollisters to start.  There were tears in Archibald Hollister’s eyes as he kissed them goodbye at the train.  Within the last year his life had been happier.  He had seen more of his wife and had grown to love her better than he had since Ethel was a child.  She and he were together nearly all of the time, and it was like reading over a forgotten love story.

“Don’t you worry, papa,” said Ethel, patting his cheek.  “We’re going to keep well and have a lovely summer, and when you come up for your vacation you’ll be like a boy again.”

“Yes, Archie,” spoke up Mrs. Hollister “Be sure that Mirinda gives you good things to eat and has them well cooked.  She’ll have little else to do, and you go out and call on the Bigelows and Judsons.  Take in the moving pictures and roof gardens.  I’ll trust you,” she laughed, “but don’t fail to write me three times a week, will you, telling me how things are going on.  And don’t let Mirinda’s young man come to the house but once a week and on Sundays.”

“Remember everything,” laughed Ethel.

Grandmother kissed her son and murmured: 

“God bless you, Archie.  I expect to take on a new lease of life.”

“Do mother,” said the man, “we all need you.”

The trip was pleasant.  The scenery was fine and the country looked as though it had been freshly swept and dusted, everything seemed so clean.  Grandmother’s eyes glistened with pleasure.  They were to stop at Akron first, where they were to leave Grandmother, and after a visit of a week Ethel and her mother were to go on to Columbus and hence to Camp.

As the train drew into the depot at Akron, there stood Tom with Aunt Susan, but what a metamorphosis!  Tom just escaped being a fashionably dressed swell.  He was too manly for that.  He wore a blue serge suit, colored negligee shirt with tie to match, a Panama hat, and russet ties.  His handsome face was so full of character that Mrs. Hollister whispered to Ethel: