She had evidently been one of those tall thin maypoles of women who have but little tenderness in them.
Aunt Aggie, after giving the children a sample of what a real mother could be, was to retire to her little home at Saundersfoot.

Here the real joy of the situation was to begin.
After a decent interval the Archdeacon was to be constantly visiting Saundersfoot, was to be observed visiting Aunt Aggie at Saundersfoot, singling her out from among the numerous spinsters of that watering-place to make her the object of reverent attentions.

Others younger and better looking than Aunt Aggie--especially Miss Barnett, the doctor's sister, who, it was whispered, wore an artificial cushion from Douglas's under her hair--were to set their caps or cushions at the dignified Archdeacon, seen pacing the sands.

But it was all of no avail.
He had eyes for no one but the gentle, retiring Miss Bellairs.

Aunt Aggie was to become the object of burning jealousy and detraction on the part of the female--that is to say almost the whole--population of Saundersfoot.