She had not paid us a visit in a long time, being confined at home with the care of her father, Grandfather Warren.

She took charge of Veronica and me, if taking charge means a series of guerilla skirmishes on both sides.

I soon discovered, however, that she was prone to laughter, and that I could provoke it; we got on better after that discovery; but Veronica, disdaining artifice, was very cross with her.

Aunt Mercy had a spark of fun in her composition, which was not quite crushed out by her religious education.

She frequented the church oftener than mother, sang more hymns, attended all the anniversary celebrations, but she had no dreams, no enthusiasm.