She sniffed at the nurse and advised her niece to get up.

She knew a woman in Terre Haute who went to bed on her thirtieth birthday and left it only to be buried in her ninetieth year.
Sylvia was a far more consoling visitor to this invalid propped up on pillows amid a litter of magazines, with the cool lake at her elbow.
Sylvia did not pooh-pooh Christian Science and New Thought and such things with which Mrs.Bassett was disposed to experiment.

Sylvia even bestowed upon her a boon in the shape of the word "psychotherapy." Mrs.
Bassett liked it, and declared that if she read a paper before the Fraserville Woman's Club the next winter--a service to which she was solemnly pledged--psychotherapy should be her subject.

Thus Mrs.
Bassett found Sylvia serviceable and comforting.

And the girl knew her place, and all.
Morton Bassett found Sylvia tutoring his son one day when he arrived at Waupegan unexpectedly.