My mother was so set back by the feather thing that she had round her neck that she called her Miss Calder instead of Edie, until my cousin in her pretty flighty way would lift her forefinger to her whenever she did it.

After supper, when she had gone to bed, they could talk of nothing but her looks and her breeding.
"By the way, though," says my father, "it does not look as if she were heart-broke about my brother's death." And then for the first time I remembered that she had never said a word about the matter since I had met her..