"Well, I'm not going to worry over what Mary says," she announced after a few minutes' deliberation. "I think Mary is apt to take snap judgment. She put me on the wrong track altogether about Doctor Giles. She said he was a regular old fogy--too slow for words, and--why, he's a man with a big reputation--Cousin Tracy's own doctor." "Mary is a dear, though," Carita said loyally. "She's apt to be a little opinionated, maybe. Peggy Austin thinks she is--though Peggy dotes on her." "Most smart people are," Blue Bonnet admitted. "Mary is as sharp as tacks. We've just three-quarters of an hour to get the train. I wonder if Mrs. White is ready to take us to the station." * * * * * A thick glittering mantle of snow lay over Woodford. Blue Bonnet had never before arrived in the winter, and the snow was not as inviting as the green hills and leafy swaying elms of the early autumn; but the sight of old Denham, with Solomon at his heels, put aside all thought of gloom. Denham was pacing up and down the platform swinging his arms back and forth briskly to ward off the cold. Solomon paced with him, alert and expectant. Miss Clyde had not ventured to the station because of the cold; but she and Grandmother were at the parlor window when the carriage drove up, watching for the visitors. It was, as always, a happy home-coming. There was no gloom inside the stately old house. Cheerful fires blazed on the hearths, the little brass kettle steamed and sang on the tea-table, and Grandmother's eyes shone with joy. She held Blue Bonnet in a close embrace, while she scanned her face for any change that five weeks might have brought there. "Why, how well you look, dear," she said, turning her to the light. "How very well! You are as plump as can be. You have rounded out wonderfully." Blue Bonnet laughed and patted her Grandmother's cheek affectionately. "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.