A Sunbonnet Girl

"Thank you," said Mrs. Jardine, "I shall remember that. I don't
like changing waiters each meal. It gives them no chance to learn
what I want or how I want it."

Then she and Kate slowly walked the length of the veranda several
times, while she pointed out parts of the grounds they could see
that remained as she had known them formerly, and what were
improvements.

When Mrs. Jardine was tired, they returned to the room and she lay
on the bed while they talked of many things; talked of things with
which Kate was familiar, and some concerning which she
unhesitatingly asked questions until she felt informed. Mrs.
Jardine was so dainty, so delicate, yet so full of life, so well
informed, so keen mentally, that as she talked she kept Kate
chuckling most of the time. She talked of her home life, her
travels, her friends, her son. She talked of politics, religion,
and education; then she talked of her son again. She talked of
social conditions, Civic Improvement, and Woman's Rights, then she
came back to her son, until Kate saw that he was the real interest
in the world to her. The mental picture she drew of him was
peculiar. One minute Mrs. Jardine spoke of him as a man among
men, pushing, fighting, forcing matters to work to his will, so
Kate imagined him tall, broad, and brawny, indefatigable in his
undertakings; the next, his mother was telling of such
thoughtfulness, such kindness, such loving care that Kate's mental
picture shifted to a neat, exacting little man, purely effeminate
as men ever can be; but whatever she thought, some right instinct
prevented her from making a comment or asking a question.