"Tell me," I cried, striking the table with my hand, making Veronica wink, "tell me how to feel and act."
"I have no influence with you, nor with Veronica."
"Because," said Verry, "we are all so different; but I like you, mother, and all that you do."
"Different!" she exclaimed, "children talk to parents about a difference between them."
"I never thought about it before." I said, "but where is the family likeness?"
Aunt Merce laughed.
"There's the Morgesons," I continued, "I hate 'em all."
"All?" she echoed; "you are like this new one."
"And Grand'ther Warren"—I continued.
"Your talk," interrupted Aunt Merce, jumping up and walking about, "is enough to make him rise out of his grave."