Aunt Eunice didn’t retort, as well she might have:
“The Delanes, to judge by ‘Aunt Edie,’ are fair-haired and gray-eyed and small, while Jacqueline is brunette and big-boned, like all the Gildersleeves.”
Old women are often wise women, so Aunt Eunice merely said:
“She’s a pretty child, and I’m sure we should have come to like her, but I’m glad,” she added, with a little catch in her voice, “that she happened to pick a dress that the other one had never worn here.”
Cousin Penelope shivered.
“It’s shockingly chilly on the porch,” she spoke brusquely. “Let’s go into the house.”
They crossed the threshold, into the cool, dim hall.
“How quiet the house is!” Aunt Eunice exclaimed.
They looked at each other and quickly averted their eyes.
There is a good deal for people to do, when they come home after weeks of absence. Aunt Eunice and Cousin Penelope each had her own affairs to attend to, in the house and the garden. They managed to see no more of each other until they sat down to luncheon, just the two of them, in the big dining-room.