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 such
a garden of roses. And you, too, Mother--why, you've actually grown
younger."

"That's just what we tell her," said Nannie. "We've been dancing the
'turkey trot' for her," they whispered, slyly kissing her goodbye.

These were happy afternoons for Grandmother, after which she and her son
would sit and chat.

"It sort of livens things up to have young people about, doesn't it,
Mother?" he said, taking a cup of tea and a sandwich.

"Yes, Archie, it certainly does; but you look tired."

"I am, Mother," replied