She knew well the meaning of the bonnet which actually seemed to quiver as though it had a sentience of its own.

She knew well the cause of her aunt's perturbation; the pain which must be caused to her was perhaps the point of most resistance in herself--she having made up her mind to her new experience.

All she could do would be to try to reconcile her by the assurance of good intention; by reason, and by sweetness of manner.

When she had kissed her and sat beside her, holding her hand after her pretty way, she, seeing the elder woman somewhat at a loss, opened the subject herself: 'You look troubled, auntie! I hope it is nothing serious ?' 'It is, my dear! Very serious! Everything is serious to me which touches you.' 'Me, Auntie!' Hypocrisy is a fine art.
'Yes! yes, Stephen.

Oh! my dear child, what is this I hear about your going to Petty Sessions with your father ?' 'Oh, that! Why, Auntie dear, you must not let that trouble you.