Mrs. Archibald Hollister—Ethel’s mother—was worldly and ambitious; not so much for herself as for her daughter. Grandmother Hollister, whose husband had belonged to one of New York’s oldest families, owned the house in which they lived, free and clear. It was an old-fashioned brown-stone affair near Riverside Drive. Archibald, her son, paid the taxes in lieu of rent, but as his salary was only three thousand a year it was extremely difficult to make both ends meet, and Grandmother had no money save what was in the house. But Mrs. Archie was clever. She could make a dollar do the work of five. With her own hands she would fashion for Ethel the most dainty and up-to-date gowns, wraps, hats, etc., imaginable.
The Hollisters kept but one maid. She always appeared trim and tidy, yet she did the entire housework. Upon the days that Mrs. Archie gave bridge parties or afternoon teas for Ethel’s young friends, she hired two extra girls who had been so perfectly trained that the guests never once doubted but that they were part of the household—all owing to Mrs. Archie’s clever management.
Ethel attended a fashionable school costing her father more money than he could afford, but she met there the very best class of girls and really formed for herself the most desirable acquaintances. Her mother scrimped and saved in every way possible, while the guests who came to the old-fashioned house with its handsome antique furniture and portraits were wont to declare that “the Hollisters were certainly aristocratic and of blue blood, as their house showed it—so severe and yet elegant.” So Mrs. Archie felt that the Hollister name alone should procure for Ethel a monied husband, and she held it constantly before the girl. She must associate only with those in the “upper circle,” and marry a man who could give her a “fine establishment.”
Among Ethel’s school friends was a girl—Nannie Bigelow by name—of whom she was very fond. Nannie had a brother in Yale whom she (Ethel) disliked. He was a member of the ultra fashionable set and was desirous of making a wealthy match, as his family as well had little but their name. One of his sisters had married a titled man and lived abroad. It was Mrs. Hollister’s ambition to have Ethel like Harvey Bigelow, although she knew that he had as little money as she. She tried to adjust things satisfactorily, and being a clever woman she hit upon a plan which we shall reveal later. Of course, the girl was only sixteen and must first graduate. Ethel, who had imbibed many of her mother’s fallacies, did not openly rebel. She was quite a little snob in her way, nor did she realize what the family daily sacrificed for her, although her heart smote her when she saw how her father was aging, for she adored him; nor were her eyes opened until after she had joined the Camp Fire.
Grandmother Hollister had two sons, John and Archie. Kate Hollister was the daughter of the former. They lived in Columbus, Ohio, and Kate had been invited to visit her New York relatives. She was a tall, handsome girl much older than Ethel, for she was over thirty. Kate was the Guardian of a company of eight Camp Fire Girls called the “Ohio.” She had told her grandmother and Ethel all about the new movement one evening, and Ethel who loved the romantic side of camping out was crazy to have Kate obtain permission from her mother to let her join, as her father had said that she might visit Columbus that coming summer. But lo! when she spoke to Mrs. Archie—or Aunt Bella—about it she was politely snubbed. When Kate tried to explain how wonderful was the organization and what benefit a girl—especially a delicate girl like Ethel—could derive from belonging, the lady sneered and likened it to the Salvation Army and forbade her guest from mentioning it to the girl or even speaking of it in her presence. But alas! the deed had been done and Ethel knew of it; but while in New York Kate had refrained from again touching on the subject. At that time an aunt of one of Ethel’s schoolmates had formed a company and many of the swell set had joined. Ethel longed to belong but dared not offend her mother.
Now for Mrs. Hollister’s plan. She suddenly conceived the idea of inviting Aunt Susan on for a visit, supposedly to give Grandmother a chance to see her only sister once more, but in reality to have Ethel ingratiate herself with the old lady, thereby causing her to leave the girl the bulk of her fortune. Ethel read between the lines and at first refused, but after listening to her mother for a while and thinking perhaps she was right, she allowed herself to promise to further the plan.
Aunt Susan was a woman with fine eyes and teeth, as well as a charming manner, but her style of dressing dated back to the eighties—full skirts, flat hats with strings, beaded plush dolmans, etc. Ethel was ashamed to be seen with her but she had promised to help and she had to do her share. In the meanwhile her mother had spread the report that Aunt Susan was a millionaire and that Ethel was to have her fortune at her death. Everyone fell in love with Aunt Susan and ascribed her peculiar dressing to the eccentricities of a wealthy woman.
Mrs. Hollister’s joy knew no bounds when Aunt Susan invited Ethel to return with her to Akron. Her scheme was beginning to work. Ethel was a lovely girl. Aunt Susan would grow fond of her and the fortune was assured. Besides, as it would cost a small fortune to take Ethel to a fashionable summer resort, Mrs. Archie could save money for the winter. But, accompanying the invitation, Aunt Susan requested that during July and August, Ethel might join her other grand niece’s “Camp Fires” and live in the woods. “It will be the making of your girl,” she added, “as now she looks thin and peaked.”
At first Mrs. Archie indignantly refused. She almost felt that she had been trapped, but Aunt Susan met every objection and even told the lady that she feared she was shallow and an unnatural mother to refuse to consider her daughter’s health. Mrs. Archie dared not let Aunt Susan know that she considered the whole organization conspicuous and common, nor that she did not wish Ethel to learn to do the work of a servant, etc., or run the risk of meeting girls of humble origin. So after some sharp rebukes administered to her by the old lady on the sin of worldliness and the fact that she was not doing a mother’s duty by her daughter, she consented, mentally declaring that she would see that Ethel should forget all about it on her return.
While visiting Aunt Susan and living in Camp in a truthful atmosphere Ethel Hollister began to change. She saw how the old lady was beloved. She heard on every side of the good she had done, and when one day Aunt Susan told her that she had been a wife and mother, and what she had suffered at the hands of a brutal husband, she was spellbound. For years she had been deserted, but when one day he was supposed to be dying she was sent for that he might beg her forgiveness. She went and found that for four years he had been stone blind and that he had sunk so low that she shrank from the squalid house in which he was living. She took him away and stayed with him until his death, making the last days of his life more bearable.