g letters protesting against having a
woman hanged; but there were only one or two letters from women. And
Grandpa said that only went to prove how much more lacking in a sense
of fitness of things women were than men. And he was just going to say
more when Aunt Hattie bristled up and tossed her chin, and said, real
indignantly:

"A sense of fitness of things, indeed! Oh, yes, that's all very well
to say. There are plenty of men, no doubt, who are shocked beyond
anything at the idea of hanging a woman; but those same men will think
nothing of going straight home and making life for some other woman so
absolutely miserable that she'd think hanging would be a lucky escape
from something worse."

"Harriet!" exclaimed Grandpa in a shocked voice.

"Well, I mean it!" declared Aunt Hattie emphatically. "Look at poor
Madge here, and that wretch of a husband of hers!"

And just here is where the funny thing happened. Mother bristled
up--_Mother_--and even more than Aunt Hattie had. She turned red and
then white, and her eyes blazed.

"That will do, Hattie, please, in my presence," she said, very cold,
like ice. "Dr. Anderson is not a wretch at all. He is an honorable,
scholarly gentleman. Without doubt he meant to be kind and
considerate. He simply did not understand me. We weren't suited to
each other. That's all."

And she got up and swept out of the room.

Now wasn't that funny? But I just loved it, all the same. I always
love Mother when she's superb and haughty and disdainful.

Well, after she had gone Aunt Hattie looked at Grandpa and Grandpa
looked at Aunt Hattie. Grandpa shrugged his shoulders, and gave his
hands a funny little flourish; and Aunt Hattie lifted her eyebrows and
said:

"Well, what do you know about that?" (Aunt Hattie forgot I was in the
room, I know, or she'd never in the world have used slang like that!)
"And after all the things she's said about how unhappy she was!"
finished Aunt Hattie.

Grandpa didn't say anything, but just gave his funny little shrug
again.

And it was kind of queer, when you come to think of it--about Mother,
I mean, wasn't it?

* * * * *

_One month later_.

Well, I've been here another whole month, and it's growing nicer all
the time. I just love it here. I love the sunshine everywhere, and the
curtains up to let it in. And the flowers in the rooms, and the little
fern-dish on the dining-room table, the books and magazines just l