Aunt Amy dried her eyes on it and handed it back as simply as a child.
"Pray excuse me," she begged, "but--the relief! I might have died if you had not come." She went on brokenly.

"You see," dropping her voice, "my relatives are _queer_.

They have strange ideas.

When I know things quite well they tell me I am mistaken.

Mary, my niece, laughs.