"Yes, that's the only difficulty, Grandmother. Boarding-school has a tendency to round people out—too much! I wish you could see Wee Watts—one of the girls. She's huge! Poor Wee, she hates it so."
Mrs. Clyde was small and thin, and she never could understand why any one objected to being stout. In her eyes flesh was becoming.
Nor was Carita forgotten. She shared with Blue Bonnet in Grandmother's caresses and attention. Mrs. Clyde's warm heart went out to the slender, pale young girl, so far from her own relatives and friends.
Miss Clyde was busy serving tea, but she cast covert glances in Blue Bonnet's direction. There was something beside the "rounding out" that interested her. There was a different air, a decided improvement in her niece. What was it? Not poise—yet! It was too soon to expect that.
Blue Bonnet and Carita chatted as they drank their tea.
Miss Clyde listened attentively. Yes, there was a change. Blue Bonnet was growing up. But what made such a difference? Suddenly she knew! It was Blue Bonnet's hair. It was put up.
"How long have you been putting up your hair, Blue Bonnet?" she asked.
Blue Bonnet started and colored.
"Not so very long, Aunt Lucinda. The girls made so much fun of hair-ribbons—the girls I go with. They thought I was much too old to wear them, and after I took them off, it was so hard to go back to them again. Don't you like it this way? The girls liked it parted. They said—they seemed to think my nose suited it."
Aunt Lucinda could not resist a smile. She hesitated before she spoke—she was eminently truthful. Much as she disliked the idea of Blue Bonnet's putting up her hair, she could not deny the becomingness of it.