Aunt P. Yes, my dear, it is disturbing news, really. It’s almost as if some one had risen from the dead; and I don’t understand it, and I don’t know what to do or say.
Pauline. Could I help you any, Auntie dear?
Aunt P. No, I think not, dearie. I must think it out alone.
Pauline. Do you mind if I run over to Grace’s a few minutes?
Aunt P. Oh, don’t, dear, don’t. Stay with me. Some one might come in.
Pauline. Are you expecting any one?
Aunt P. N-no, not exactly. That is—no, of course not.
Pauline. Why, Auntie dear, if you were a young girl, I should say you were expecting a visit from your young man.
Aunt P. But as I’m not, but an old woman of fifty-eight, you know it can’t be any nonsense of that sort. Remember, my dear Pauline, I am your great-aunt.