their opinions when their
daughters brought home accounts of the affair. She planned the whole
thing while she was eating her supper.

After supper Gladys washed the dishes and her mother wiped them, and
they put them away together. Then Gladys began to get ready to go to
Camp Fire meeting and Mrs. Evans reluctantly prepared to go out for the
evening. The nearer ready she was the more disinclined she felt to go.
"Those Jamieson musicales are always such a bore," she said to herself
wearily. "They never have good singers--my Gladys could do better than
any of them--and they are interminable. Father looks tired to death, and
I know he would rather stay at home. Gladys," she called, looking into
her daughter's room, "where is your Camp Fire meeting to-night?"

"At the Brewsters'," answered Gladys.

"Do you ever have visitors?" continued her mother.

"Why, yes," answered Gladys, "we often do."

"Do you mind if you have one to-night?" asked Mrs. Evans.

"Certainly not," replied Gladys.

"Well, then, I'm coming along," said her mother.

"Will you?" cried Gladys. "Oh goody!" The Winnebagos were surprised and
delighted when Mrs. Evans appeared with Gladys. Since that Saturday's
outing she had held a very warm place in their affections.

"Come in, mother," called Sahwah; "you might as well join the group too,
we have one guest. This is Mrs. Evans, Gladys's mother," she said, when
her mother appeared after hastily brushing back her hair and putting on
a white apron. The two women held out their hands in formal greeting,
and then changed their minds and fell on each other's necks.

"Why, Molly Richards!" exclaimed Mrs. Evans.

"Why, Helen Adamson!" gasped Mrs. Brewster. The Winnebagos looked on,
mystified.

"You can't introduce me to your mother," said Mrs. Evans to Sahwah,
laughing at her look of surprise. "We were good friends when we were
younger than you. Do you remember the time," she said, turning back to
Mrs. Brewster, "when you drew a picture of Miss Scully in your history
and she found it and made you stand up in front of the room and hold it
up so the whole class could see it?"

"Do you remember the time," returned Mrs. Brewster, "when we ran away
from school to see the Lilliputian bazaar and your mother was there and
walked you out by the ear?" Thus the flow of reminiscences went on.

"How little I thought," said Mrs. Evans, "when I first saw Sarah Ann
going around with Gladys, that she was your daughte