Mother was like a poker.

She astonished her visitors, and the whole scene was so queer and uncomfortable, although mother was freezingly _polite_, that Kate and I got out of the room.

The next day more people came--and more, and more every day, but Clara had her orders, and we weren't 'at home.' Kitty and I used to watch the poor Northburians from behind the summer-house.

One day Kitty laughed.

It was awful, and I am sure they heard.
"Another day a dreadful little woman with rolling eyes said she would leave a tract on _Lying_ in the avenue--I wish she had.