She can always laugh at pleasure.
"It sounds like the old Bible story," says she; "you have an only son, and you must sacrifice him!" "Don't study to be absurd!" says Lady Rylton, with a click of her fan that always means mischief.
She throws herself back in her chair, and a tiny frown settles upon her brow.

She is such a small creation of Nature's that only a frown of the slightest dimensions _could_ settle itself comfortably between her eyes.

Still, as a frown, it is worth a good deal! It has cowed a good many people in its day, and had, indeed, helped to make her a widow at an early age.

Very few people stood up against Lady Rylton's tempers, and those who did never came off quite unscathed.
"Absurd! Have I been absurd ?" asks Mrs.Bethune.

"My dear Tessie"-- she is Lady Rylton's niece, but Lady Rylton objects to being called aunt--"such a sin has seldom been laid to my charge." "Well, _I_ lay it," says Lady Rylton with some emphasis.
She leans back in her chair, and, once again unfurling the huge black fan she carries, waves it to and fro.
Marian Bethune leans back in her chair too, and regards her aunt with a gaze that never wavers.