polite to differ with her? But no, she was talking quite loudly. I wish I might go home with Kate. I'd like to see her father and mother; they must be lovely.

"They are," replied Grandmother Hollister. "Your Uncle John is my oldest boy, and he has the sunniest nature imaginable."

"Yes, and Kate does something in the world," replied the girl. "I wish I might belong to her Camp Fire Girls that she has told you and me about. But Mamma—why! I shouldn't even dare suggest it; in fact, she doesn't dream that I know about Kate's being the Guardian of a Company. I feared that she might be rude if I spoke of it and might say something to offend Kate. Well, goodbye dear, I just wanted to tell you," and with another kiss Ethel left the room.

CHAPTER III

GRANDMOTHER HOLLISTER

Old Mrs. Hollister's room was on the third floor back. It was large and sunny, but considering that she owned the house it was rather peculiar that she had such an inferior room. She and her sister Susan were the only children of Josiah Carpenter, a wealthy man living in Akron, Ohio. Upon his death the girls found themselves alone and heiresses. Alice, while visiting in New York, met Archibald Hollister, who belonged to an old and respected family but who was of no earthly account as a business man. His handsome face won pretty Alice Carpenter. He was not long in spending nearly all of her fortune, but he really was considerate enough to contract pneumonia and die before he obtained possession of her house, which fortunately was in her name and unmortgaged.

She had two sons—John, Kate's father, who lived in Columbus, Ohio, and Archibald with whom she now made her home. Archibald loved his mother and begged her to let him pay her rent for the house, but she replied that if he would pay the taxes and keep the house in repair it would equal the rent.

Her sister Susan still lived in the same town where they had been born. She had never married. People told Archibald Hollister that his Aunt Susan was a millionaire. Every investment that she made was successful. She had adopted and educated two orphan boys, one of whom had died, while the other was finishing college, after which he was to become a lawyer. Aunt Susan seldom wrote of herself. She corresponded with Alice (Grandmother Hollister) about twice a year, and at Christmas she invariably sent her a generous check.

Grandmother Hollister and her son were alike in many ways. They were free from all false pride and privately they considered Mrs. Hollister a snob, and worried lest Ethel should become one. Archibald seldom asserted himself, but when he did his word was law. While his wife was a social climber he was exactly the opposite. He had been known to bring home the most disreputable looking men—men who had been his friends in youth and who were playing in hard luck. He would ask them to dinner without even sending word, and his wife would invariably plead a sick headache to get rid of sitting with them. She dared not interfere nor object for she was just a little afraid of him and she realized that in nearly everything he allowed her to have her own way.

Mrs. Hollister told Ethel privately that both here father and grandmother were old fashioned. Although living in a handsome house they kept but one maid. Mr. Hollister's salary was but a little over three thousand, and at times they had hard work to make both ends meet. Ethel attended a fashionable school and hardly realized what the family sacrificed for her. She made many friends among the wealthy girls of the smart set. Thanks to her mother's skill and taste she was enabled to dress beautifully, but youth is thoughtless and she was just a little too self centered to see that her parents were depriving themselves for her.

Mrs. Hollister gave bridge parties, and once every two weeks a tea for Ethel. Upon those days she hired two extra maids. It was pitiable to see how she strove to keep up appearances. There was a young man whose sister went with the set of girls who came to Ethel's teas. His name was Harvey Bigelow. One of his sisters had married into the nobility. He had a large Roman nose and a receding forehead, but Mrs. Hollister was delighted when one afternoon Nannie Bigelow—his sister—brought him to the house. He was only nineteen and at college. Ethel disliked him from the first.

"Why, dear, why are you so rude to Mr. Bigelow? He's a gentleman," said
Mrs. Hollister.

"Yes, Mamma, but I simply cannot endure him," replied the girl. "For one thing his nails are too shiny, and that shows his lack of refinement. I don't care if his sister married the King, he's common—that's all."

It was then that Mrs. Hollister would declare that Ethel was exactly like her father and grandmother.

CHAPTER IV

A PINK TEA

Although old Mrs. Hollister owned the house and nearly all of the handsome antique furniture, Mrs. Archie seemed often to forget that fact, and from her manner one might infer that the lady regarded her mother-in-law as a sort of interloper. The old lady would allow her to go just so far, after which she would suddenly pull her up with a sharp turn and admonish her with such a cutting rebuke that Mrs. Archie would blush painfully and apologize. But while antagonistic on most points they each agreed on Ethel. Even Grandmother felt that her daughter-in-law was wise in trying to fit the girl for the smart set, where she would have social position and money, and she even sided with the wife against her son, who considered it all wrong.

One afternoon Archibald Hollister came home early and ran right into the "Pink Tea" crowd. Old Mrs. Hollister, tastefully gowned in black and white, sat in the library where the maids brought up refreshments to her. A young musician whose mother had been a schoolmate of Mrs. Hollister's, and who was poor, played the piano from four to seven for the small sum of three dollars. Everything went off pleasantly. The maids acted as though they were really fixtures in the house. The refreshments were excellent. No wonder with the line of autos before the door people considered the Hollisters wealthy, "but plain and solid with no airs, etc."

Old Mrs. Hollister enjoyed young people's society, and they all voted her a dear. She'd invite their confidences, and before leaving each girl would come up to the library for a chat with Grandmother.

"Oh, Mrs. Hollister," said Lottie Owen, a girl of Ethel's age, "have you heard about the 'turkey trot?' We can't dance it any more,—it's been suppressed."

"How does it go?" asked the old lady. "I've read something of it."

"Well, just wait,—I'll get Nannie Bigelow and we'll dance it for you."

Thereupon the two girls would show Grandmother Hollister the steps.

"That's something like the 'Boston Dip,'" responded she very much excited. "Why, when I was a girl my mother took me away from a cotillion one night because they danced it," and she grew pretty as she excitedly told of her younger days.

"I bet you were lovely, Mrs. Hollister," said Nannie. "Ethel will never be as pretty as you were. We were looking at your portrait in the drawing room. You must have been fascinating, and as for Mr. Hollister—your husband—well, he was just a dear."

The old lady blushed. Here Lottie spoke up:

"Yes, and people say you were such a belle. Old Mr. Tupper was at our house and met Ethel, and he told us a lot about you. But here's Mr. Hollister," and they rushed forward to greet her son.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed gallantly, "I didn't expect to get into