She knew that her niece had had `` some love trouble or other , '' and had n't gotten over it rightly . `` It 's always best to let those things take their course , '' said this philosophical lady to her `` help '' and confidant , Margaret Ann Peabody . `` She 'll get over it in time -- though she does n't think so now , bless you . '' For the first fortnight Frances revelled in a luxury of unhindered sorrow . She could cry all night -- and all day too , if she wished -- without having to stop because people might notice that her eyes were red . She could mope in her room all she liked . And there were no men who demanded civility . When the fortnight was over , Aunt Eleanor took crafty counsel with herself . The letting-alone policy was all very well , but it would not do to have the girl die on her hands . Frances was getting paler and thinner every day -- and she was spoiling her eyelashes by crying . `` I wish , '' said Aunt Eleanor one morning at breakfast , while Frances pretended to eat , `` that I could go and take Corona Sherwood out for a drive today . I promised her last week that I would , but I 've never had time yet . And today is baking and churning day . It 's a shame . Poor Corona ! '' `` Who is she ? '' asked Frances , trying to realize that there was actually someone in the world besides herself who was to be pitied . `` She is our minister 's sister . She has been ill with rheumatic fever . She is better now , but does n't seem to get strong very fast .
She ought to go out more , but she is n't able XXXXX walk .
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