All Ann Maria's spice of life was got from a hidden antagonism to her daughters and quietly flying in the face of their prejudices, and she was the sort of old lady who could hardly have lived at all without spice.
"Your Aunt Harriet will be hopping," said the perverse old lady with another chuckle.
"Why, grandmother ?" "Harriet has had an eye on him herself." Annie gasped.

"Aunt Harriet must be at least twenty-five years older," said she.
"Hm," said the old lady, "that doesn't amount to anything.

Harriet didn't put on her pearl breast-pin and crimp her hair unless she had something in her mind.

Susan has given up, but Harriet hasn't given up." Annie still looked aghast.
"When are you going to get married ?" asked the old lady.
"I don't know." "Haven't settled that yet?
Well, when you do, there's the white satin embroidered with white roses that I was married in and my old lace veil.

I think he's a nice young man.