As a rule she left her aunt to do the talking.
"Undoubtedly.

Nothing causes more trouble than carelessness in this respect." "Ought we all to make wills ?" "If we have anything to leave it's advisable." "Ought I ?" "Well, hardly at present, I should say!" "Ought mother ?" Winona was growing redder and redder.
"No doubt she has done so." "Have you made yours, Aunt Harriet ?" The horrible deed was done, and Winona, crimson to the roots of her hair, felt she had, metaphorically speaking, burnt her boats.
Miss Beach stared at her as if electrified.
"What do you want to know for ?" she asked, suspiciously.

"I think that's decidedly my business and not yours!" Winona collapsed utterly, and murmuring something about preparation, fled to her bedroom.
"There! I've just gone and put my foot in it altogether!" she groaned.
"I've no tact! I went and blurted it out like an idiot.

She'll never forgive me! Oh, why can't I go and tell her the whole business, and then she'd understand! I do hate this sneaking work.

Percy, you wretched boy, I'd like to bump your head against the wall! It's too bad to land me in your scrape! Well, I suppose it can't be helped.