“We arrived at the house, a darling little farmhouse of one floor in the midst of tall trees which reflected their spectral shadows in the gurgling black waters of a stream. Our escort dismounted and entered the house with us where we were received by a committee of women. They had prepared supper and had made everything ready for us. They were dressed in long, flowing robes, their heads covered with a veil and they stood respectfully with their hands folded, watching us carefully so as to anticipate our smallest wishes. Dear, pure, honest country folk of Anatolia! How much they can teach us, how much they can teach the western world of hospitality, modesty and faithfulness! The women were veiled in the presence of men, but they acted their part as hostesses while the men talked in the same room with my husband. After having settled us to their own satisfaction they departed all together, even the owners of the house insisting on leaving so that we might be more comfortable. They left us their servants to take care of us. Next day and all the days of our stay at Eski-Shehir, groups of peasant girls would come to visit me, to enquire if I needed anything and to entertain me as best they could. They would shyly stand at the door until I forced them to come in. I had all the trouble in the world to break them of the habit of sitting on the floor out of respect to their guests, as they considered it ill-bred to sit on a level with me. They would come in the evenings, for during the day they would be busy working in their fields. Healthy and strong women they were, with red cheeks and bashful eyes. They were not the type of women living for the pleasure of their husbands, or of slaves toiling for their masters. They were wholesome women, good daughters, good wives, good mothers who had for generations been conscious of their duty to the community and accomplished it efficiently--helpmates freely helping their men, freely assisting them or willingly shouldering their husbands' responsibility in case of absence and taking care of the welfare of their families, their homes, their fields or their villages and withal keeping their unassuming modesty intact--the modesty which is, or should be, the national characteristic of all Turkish women.” My aunt was silent for a while. Her compelling personality made us fully share her love for her Anatolian sisters. She slowly got up and gave the signal for returning home. We walked together. It was our last day in Erenkeuy and I had not yet exhausted her views on the subject of the emancipation of Turkish women. I now asked her if she thought that its influence had been salutory upon general morality in the big cities.