Uncle Benjamin, wheezy, pussy-mouthed. With great pouches under eyes that held nothing in reverence.

Uncle Wellington. Long, pallid face, thin, pale-yellow hair — ”one of the fair Stirlings” — thin, stooping body, abominably high forehead with such ugly wrinkles, and “eyes about as intelligent as a fish’s,” thought Valancy. “Looks like a cartoon of himself.”

Aunt Wellington. Named Mary but called by her husband’s name to distinguish her from Great-aunt Mary. A massive, dignified, permanent lady. Splendidly arranged, iron-grey hair. Rich, fashionable beaded dress. Had her moles removed by electrolysis — which Aunt Mildred thought was a wicked evasion of the purposes of God.