"I can work south through the winter--" Aunt Agatha fell tragically back in her chair and gasped.
"Didn't we take a whole year to motor over Europe ?" demanded Diane impetuously.

"And that was nothing like so fascinating as my gypsy house on wheels." "If I could only have looked ahead!" breathed Aunt Agatha, shuddering.
"If only I could have foreseen what notions you and Carl were fated to take in your heads, I'd have refused your grandfather's legacy.

I would indeed.

Here I no more than get Carl safely home from hunting Esquimaux or whatever it was up there by the North Pole--walravens, wasn't it, Diane ?--well, walrus then!--than you decide to become a gypsy and sleep by a lake in springtime under a planting moon and stay outdoors all winter, collecting birds, when I fancied you were safely launched in society until you were married." "But Aunt Agatha," flashed the girl, "I'm not at all anxious to marry." Aunt Agatha burst into a calamitous shower of tears.
"Aunt Agatha," said Diane kindly, "why not remember that you're no longer burdened with the terrible responsibility of bringing Carl and me up?
We're both mature, responsible beings." Aunt Agatha dabbed defiantly at her eyes.
"Well," she said flatly, "I shan't worry, I just shan't.

I'm past that.