"I won't drop it--it's too interesting! Oh, my! I wish we could
go out there in the big car--then we could follow him round--"

"Hush! Go out to Newark in the car! Trail round the streets and
alleys after a fool mountebank! With a horde of gamins and low,
horrid men crowding about--"

They won't be allowed to crowd about!"

"And yelling--"

"I admit the yelling--"

"Aunt Abby, you're impossible!" Eunice rose, and scowled
irately at her aunt. Her temper, always quick, was at times
ungovernable, and was oftenest roused at the suggestion of any
topic or proceeding that jarred on her taste. Exclusive to the
point of absurdity, fastidious in all her ways, Mrs, Embury was,
so far as possible, in the world but not of it.

Both she and her husband rejoiced in the smallness of their
friendly circle, and shrank from any unnecessary association with
hoi polloi.

And Aunt Abby Ames, their not entirely welcome guest, was of a
different nature, and possessed of another scale of standards.
Secure in her New England aristocracy, calmly conscious of her
innate refinement, she permitted herself any lapses from
conventional laws that recommended themselves to her inclination.