The journey was very pleasant. Ethel enjoyed it. Aunt Susan removed her hat and tied the objectionable green veil around her head. This didn't seem quite so out of place. As they talked Ethel noticed that Aunt Susan was wonderfully well informed on every subject. She was like an encyclopedia, and her conversation was most interesting.

As they were nearing their destination many of her townspeople passed through the train. They greeted her most heartily with: "Well, well, Mrs. Carpenter, we have missed you. Had a pleasant time?"

"How's my boy?" she asked of one man.

"My, but he's fine," rejoined the man,—"won a big case the other day. Haven't you heard about it? Sears, the automobile man—someone accused him of infringing on his patent, and he—Sears—sued him. Tom won the suit. Everyone is congratulating him," etc.

Each person had some report of Tom.

"They seem to love Aunt Susan," thought Ethel. "It only goes to show how much people think of money. Perhaps were she poor they wouldn't notice her." But wasn't her own mother a money-worshipper, and didn't she herself care for people who had it? "I suppose it's the way of the world," she thought.

The train slowed into the depot. A tall broad-shouldered athletic looking fellow entered the car and grasped Aunt Susan by the waist, and as he lifted her almost from the floor he kissed her affectionately saying: "Oh, my! but Aunt Susan I've missed you," and his voice rang manly and true.

Ethel liked his face. He had keen but pleasant grey eyes, a square jaw, large mouth and fine teeth. "But alas!" she thought, "how terribly he dresses, with his loosely tied black cravat, a slouch hat, low collar and wide trousers—like types of eccentric literary men seen on the stage and in pictures."

He was absolutely devoid of style, yet everyone seemed to look up to him and lots of pretty girls blushed unconsciously as he returned their bows. Aunt Susan must have spoken to everyone who passed. They all seemed to know her well.

As they drove up and alighted at the door of a small plain house she must have noticed a disappointed look in her niece's eyes, for she said: "Your Grandmother and I were born here, my dear. That large house on the hill once belonged to me, but I disposed of it and moved here. I love the associations. Although it is very primitive. I trust you may be happy in it while visiting under its roof."

And indeed it was primitive with its wooden shutters and piazza with a stone floor made of pieces of flagging. The rooms were low-ceilinged with windows of tiny panes, whose white muslin curtains were trimmed with ball fringe made by Aunt Susan. There were ingrain carpets on the floor and old-fashioned mahogany furniture—the real thing, not reproductions. It was massive and handsome with exquisite hand carving.

Ethel's floor was covered with the old-fashioned rag carpeting and rugs to match. Vases of roses were on the bureau and stand, evidently put there by "Mr. Thomas" as she called him.