Owen Oliver

“ Phyllis grows more like her every day. She has just the same way of smiling people into things. Norah was engaged at eighteen.”
“People have more sense nowadays,” Uncle William asserted. “If you and Julia don't put nonsense in her head——”
Then Phyllis danced in with her mass of brown hair fastened up at the back of her head, and her big eyes sparkling.
“Now!” she cried. “Don't I look grown up?” She seized Uncle William's paper. “You mustn't read silly money articles when a beautiful grown-up lady comes to see you. ”

“ Aunt Mary related. “Phyllis' father waited in the shrubbery to see her first. That was how I found out. I had no notion before. She seemed such a child; a childish child. You can never be up to girls.”
Uncle William tapped the floor with his foot.
“She isn't going to marry before she is twenty, like Norah did,” he asserted firmly. “I am her guardian, and I will not listen to any nonsense about engagements. She's nothing but a baby!”
“You are quite right, William,” Aunt Mary agreed. “It is out of the question,”
“Quite!” said Uncle John. “Quite!”
Aunt Julia sighed. ”

“ I can trust her to dust the best ornaments even. She looks as if she might break them, but she never does. Her mother was like that. She laughed and talked and seemed careless, but you could depend upon her all the same. ”