I feel that such a subject demands special paper.

She is a wonderful woman and her family have every reason to be proud of her." "Yes," said Annie.
"It is rather odd, and I have often thought so," said Aunt Harriet, moving alongside with stately sweeps of black skirts, "that you have shown absolutely no literary taste.

As you know, I have often written poetry, of course not for publication, and my friends have been so good as to admire it." "Yes, Aunt Harriet," said Annie.
"I realise that you have never appreciated my poems," said Aunt Harriet tartly.
"I don't think I understand poetry very well," little Annie said with meekness.
"It does require a peculiar order of mind, and you have never seemed to me in the least poetical or imaginative," said her aunt in an appeased voice.

"For instance, I could not imagine your writing a book like Mrs.Edes, and _The Poor Lady_ was anonymous, and anybody might have written it as far as one knew.

But I should never have imagined her for a moment as capable of doing it." "No," said Annie.
Then they had come to the parsonage and Jane Riggs, as rigid as starched linen could make a human being, admitted them, and presently after a little desultory conversation, the collection, which was really a carefully made one, and exceedingly good and interesting, was being displayed.