But, there! I suppose I mustn't expect it to be interesting.

I'm Mary now, not Marie.
There aren't any teas and dinners and pretty ladies and music and soulful-eyed prospective suitors _here_.

My! Wouldn't Aunt Jane have four fits?
And Father, too.

But I'd just like to put one of Mother's teas with the little cakes and flowers and talk and tinkling laughs down in Aunt Jane's parlor, and then watch what happened.

Oh, of course, the party couldn't stand it long--not in there with the hair wreath and the coffin plate.