Wasn't it funny ?" I laughed.

"All the time _you_ were getting ready for Marie, Mother was getting me ready to be Mary.

It _was_ funny!" And it did seem funny to me then.
But Father was not laughing.

He had sat back in his chair, and had covered his eyes with his hand again, as if he was thinking and thinking, just as hard as he could.

And I suppose it did seem queer to him, that he should be trying to make me Marie, and all the while Mother was trying to make me Mary.