"That dreadful word! One should never mention death! It is so rude! He, your poor uncle--he _left_ us with the sweetest resignation on the 18th of February, 1887." "I never _saw_ such resignation," says Mrs.Bethune, with deep emphasis.
She casts a glance at Margaret, who, however, refuses to have anything to do with it.

But, for all that, Mrs.Bethune is clearly enjoying herself.

She can never, indeed, refrain from sarcasm, even when her audience is unsympathetic.
"Yes, yes; he was resigned," says Lady Rylton, pressing her handkerchief to her nose.
"So much so, that one might almost think he was _glad_ to go," says Mrs.Bethune, nodding her head with beautiful sympathy.
She is now shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Yes; glad.

It is such a comfort to dwell on it," says Lady Rylton, still dabbing her eyes.

"He was happy--quite happy when he left me." "I never saw anyone so happy," says Mrs.Bethune.
Her voice sounds choking; no doubt it is emotion.