`` She has invited me often enough . '' Ned whistled . `` Jolly time you 'll have of it , Sis . Windy Meadows is about as festive as a funeral . And Aunt Eleanor is n't lively , to put it in the mildest possible way . '' `` I do n't care if she is n't . I want to get somewhere where people wo n't look at me and talk about -- that , '' said Frances , looking ready to cry . Ned went out and swore at Holcomb again , and then advised his mother to humour Frances . Accordingly , Frances went to Windy Meadows . Windy Meadows was , as Ned had said , the reverse of lively . It was a pretty country place , with a sort of fag-end by way of a little fishing village , huddled on a wind-swept bit of beach , locally known as the `` Cove . '' Aunt Eleanor was one of those delightful people , so few and far between in this world , who have perfectly mastered the art of minding their own business exclusively . She left Frances in peace . 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 , XXXXX Eleanor took crafty counsel with herself .
Aunt Sis business confidant help lady men people room sorrow