her amiable simplicity, hold her head.

"She is shy!" said one of the ladies to the other; and they let her
alone a little, and began to talk to Mr. Wardour about the journey,
and various other things, to which Kate did not greatly listen. She
began to let her eyes come out from under her hat brim, and satisfied
herself that the aunts certainly did not wear either turbans or birds
of paradise, but looked quite as like other people as she felt
herself, in spite of her title.

Indeed, one aunt had nothing on her head at all but a little black
velvet and lace, not much more than Mary sometimes wore, and the
other only a very light cap. Kate thought great-aunts must be as old
at least as Mrs. Brown, and was much astonished to see that these
ladies had no air of age about them. The one who sat on the sofa had
a plump, smooth, pretty, pink and white face, very soft and pleasant
to look at, though an older person than Kate would have perceived
that the youthful delicacy of the complexion showed that she had been
carefully shut up and sheltered from all exposure and exertion, and
that the quiet innocent look of the small features was that of a
person who had never had to use her goodness more actively than a
little baby. Kate was sure that this was aunt Jane, and that she
should get on well with her, though that slow way of speaking was
rather wearisome.

The other aunt, who was talking the most, was quite as slim as Mary,
and had a bright dark complexion, so that if Kate had not seen some
shades of grey in her black hair, it would have been hard to believe
her old at all. She had a face that put Kate in mind of a picture of
a beautiful lady in a book at home--the eyes, forehead, nose, and