. They were scared by so much
strength of character, and could not make up their minds to tackle her.
She gave it up in order to capture the last of them--a dear old general
who had adored her--but he shook his head, went off to Malta to think it
out, and there died of Malta fever. She considers herself his widow and
his portrait adorns her sitting-room. She has a poor opinion of the
lower orders, especially of domestic servants. But her own servants
don't seem to mind her much. The butler has been here twenty years, and
does just what he pleases. The amusing thing is that she considers
herself extremely intellectual, because she learnt Latin in her
youth--she doesn't remember a word of it now!--because she always read
the reviews of papa's books--and because she reads poetry every morning
before breakfast. Just now she is wrestling with George Meredith; and
she asks me to explain 'Modern Love' to her. I can't make head or tail
of it. Nor can she. But when people come to tea she begins to talk about
Meredith, and asks them if they don't think him very obscure. And as
most people here who come to tea have never heard of him, it keeps up
her dignity. All the same, she is a dear old thing--and she put a large
case of chocolate in my room before I arrived!

"Aunt Winifred is quite different. Aunt Marcia calls her a
'reactionary,' because she is very high church and great friends with
all the clergy. She is a very quiet little thing, short and fair, with a
long thin nose and eyes that look you through. Her two great passions
are--curates, especially consumptive curates--and animals. There is
generally a consumptive curate living the open-air life in the garden.
Mercifully the last patient has just left. As for animals, the house is
full of stray dogs and tame rabbits and squirrels that run up you and
look for nuts in your pocket. There is also a mongoose, who pulled the
cloth off the tea-table yesterday and ran away with all the cakes. Aunt
Marcia bears it philosophically, but the week before I came there was a
crisis. Aunt Winifred met some sheep on the road between here and our
little town. She asked where they were going to. And the man with them
said he was taking them to the slaughter-house. She was horrified, and
she bought them all--there and then! And half an hour later, she
appeared here with the sheep, and Aunt Marcia was supposed to put them
up in the garden. Well, that was too much, and the aunts had words. What