This nephew of a French hotel manageress ... of course he wasn't exactly the sort of admirer who belonged in Granges with grounds full of rhododendrons, but he was a _man_, triumphed Olwen. There'd be others, people that Miss Agatha Walsh could think seriously about; but he was the _beginning_! He'd shown the success of her experiment. The Charm _could_ work. That letter was _not_ all nonsense! It was all true! And since the Charm had worked for Miss Walsh, it would work for--well, others! Joy, oh joy! Bursting with joy, in fact, the girl darted out of the _salon_, scampering upstairs in all haste to overtake Miss Walsh, and to hear more of this. She hoped to catch her up at her bedroom door, but already Miss Walsh had gone in. Olwen knocked; was asked, "Who's there?" "Only me--Olwen!" "Come in," was the muffled answer. It came from behind a handful of Miss Walsh's hair, quite abundant and almost pretty, now that she had removed the flattening net and taken it all down. The first glance showed Olwen that it was not just "down" for the night. There was a side glass in Miss Walsh's hand; a thick loop of her locks was coiled up at the back, ready for the side "bits" to be drawn across in a simpler fashion than the upholstery of puffs and curls. Yes! She was seeing how she looked with her hair done a different way! Ah, sign of the times, that could spell only one thing: M--A--N! "I--I only came in to say good night to you," Olwen began (really longing to ply with questions; how--how soon did IT work--what happened----). Miss Walsh turned a face as transfigured as Olwen's own above her quilted dressing jacket. She looked ten years younger. She held her head at almost the angle of those who have _not_ been born with the saddle. All fluttered and flushed she was, but delighted; a once bleak landscape that a sun-ray lightens. For it is your lifelong teetotaller who, rescued from Death, perks up at the first sip of restorative. It was the elder Miss Walsh's cloistered companion who was responding to that tonic: masculine attention. She turned a new smile upon Olwen. "Oh, it's you," she exclaimed, with new notes in her voice. Then she broke into the breathless talk which was to her as new a function as shopping for herself.