She did her brave best but she could not shout like Felicity, and half the time, as she confided to me later on, she felt that Great-aunt Eliza did not hear one word she said, because she didn't seem to take in who the people were, though, just like all deaf folks, she wouldn't let on.

Great-aunt Eliza certainly didn't talk much; she looked at the photographs in silence, but she smiled now and then.

That smile bothered me.

It was so twinkly and so very un-great-aunt-Elizaish.

But I felt indignant with her.