“Wild, mother? She’s a dear, that’s what she is! And Wyoming isn’t a wilderness. You must remember the country has grown.”
“I know, but it can hardly afford the advantages of New England. I mean in a cultural way, my dear.”
Aunt Nan actually sniffed. “Maybe not, mother. I’m sick of culture! I like something more genuine. And as to good manners, I’m sure Virginia has them.”
“Yes,” her mother assented. “And I must say I’m surprised after what Louise wrote as to the ranch life. Mary’s husband has done well by Virginia, I must grant that.”
“Lou is too particular for any use, mother. I’ve always said so. And as for Virginia’s father, you’ve never half appreciated him!”
Virginia’s grandmother felt rebuked—perhaps, a little justly.
“Of course,” she said, a little deprecatingly, “there are crudities. Now as to that matter last evening with Dr. Baxter. I fear he was rather—”
“Shocked!” finished Aunt Nan. “And I’m glad he was! Virginia only told the truth. If he knew more about Wyoming geography and less about Korean idolatry, he’d appear to better advantage! He needs shocking!”
“My dear Nan!” interposed her mother.
“Well, he does, mother, and I hope he’s so shocked that he won’t come to tea again for a month!”