That weakness was a peculiarly good opinion of herself.

I had made no allegation against her; and there was none in my mind.

My words simply expressed the general truth that we all have weaknesses, and included her in their application.

But she imagined that I referred to some particular defect or fault, and mail-proof as she was against words, they had wounded her.
For a day or two, aunt Rachel remained more sober than was her wont.
I knew the cause, but did not attempt to remove from her mind an impression my words had made.

One day, about a week after, I said to her: "Aunt Rachel, I saw Mary Lane's mother this morning." "Ah ?" The old lady looked up at me enquiringly.
"I don't wonder your words hurt the poor girl," I added.
"Why?
What did I say ?" quickly asked aunt Rachel.
"You said that she was a jilt." "But I was only in jest, and she knew it.