“I don’t know,” answered Ethel, “of late everyone seems to be changing for the better.  The whole world appears different to me.  It makes me happy to see others happy,” and the girl went out to call her mother and Tom in to tea.

“I’m transferring my allegiance to your mother, young woman,” said Tom.

“I’m not a bit jealous,” replied Ethel.  “Mother is really more interesting to men than I, and what’s more, she’s always been.  But hurry in; Jane will be furious if her biscuits grow cold.”

The two weeks passed only too quickly.  They spent their days touring all over Ohio, so it seemed to Ethel, and at night the young people came in shoals to see her, while the grown-ups had bridge parties.  Said Mrs. Hollister: 

“How hospitable and lovely these Westerners are.  I had no idea that they were so refined.”

“What did you expect to meet, Mother?” laughed Ethel—­“not cowboys?”

“Susan,” said Grandmother one morning, “I notice that you curl your hair.  It’s very becoming, I think.”

“Alice, you don’t consider me too old, do you?  Sometimes I wonder if I’m not sort of making a fool of myself, but Ethel got me in the way of it and I try to keep the front as fluffy as possible, for she asked me to.  And I’ve another confession to make,” said Aunt Susan.  “Alice, I blue my hair—­regular bluing water so as to keep it white.  There now—­what do you think of that?”

“So do I, Susan,” laughed her sister.  “I’ve done it for several years.  It certainly does improve the color.  Grey hairs grow so yellow looking.  The child is right.  We ought to keep ourselves up while we’re able.  We polish up old mahogany and keep it fresh and clean—­why not old women?” and the two laughed merrily.

“I think the Camp Fire business has made a woman of Ethel, don’t you?”

“How could it fail to?” said Aunt Susan.  “Women are coming into their own, Alice.  They’re growing sensible and self-reliant.  Look at our Grandmothers and at us.  Do you notice the difference?  And our grandchildren will be just as far ahead of us as we are of our grandmothers.  Isn’t it wonderful?”

“I like you Western people,” said Mrs. Hollister, coming in at that moment followed by Ethel.

“I’ve just told Mother,” said the girl, “that Western people can give points to us.  They are natural, kind-hearted, hospitable, and they seldom measure their friendship by the amount of people’s bank accounts.  With them it’s character that talks.”

“How did you like my sanitarium, Bella?” asked Aunt Susan.

“I couldn’t half express myself,” replied Mrs. Hollister.  “You’re a wonderful woman, Aunt Susan, and the people here have cause to bless you.  I’ve never before admitted this to Ethel, but I’m very glad that she came here last summer.  I see my short-sightedness every day when I look back and realize how I was bringing her up,” and Mrs. Hollister wiped her eyes.