Aunt Irene did not make a bit of difference.

It was too smooth and pretty just like Aunt Irene.

Aunt Irene had certainly prepared a lovely breakfast for her.

Aunt Irene had looked carefully at all her clothes.

Aunt Irene looked quite horrified but kissed them both as they came into the yard.

Aunt Irene was smiling, but there was an edge to her voice.

Aunt Irene felt it, though she couldn't put it into words.

"Don't you think Aunt Irene had something to do with it, dad?"

She knew he was going to Aunt Irene's for dinner.

"With a few of his old friends," said Aunt Irene.