Seven-year-old Courtney and her younger cousin, Rilla, were earnestly discussing the visitor.
"She's nothing like the magicians we've heard about," argued Rilla. "She dresses like mommy."
"No," countered Courtney, "but her sister's a magician. Her sister that died. Two years ago."
"Why did she die?" gasped Rilla.
"I heard another magician had a fight with her and killed her. Magicians have tempers, and then they get mean. That's why we don't like them."
Rilla thought a minute. "Well, why did Uncle Vernon marry her?"
"Shhhh, he's Bath now. He doesn't get a name because he married a magician's sister."
"Bath's a name," Rilla informed her cousin, always ready to fight.
"But it's not a real name! It's a storybook name." Courtney could give as good as she got.
Rilla seemed satisfied. "I think it's pretty, marrying someone when your family doesn't even like it. Like Cinde-"
"Don't say it! Cin—you know who is one of the devils."
"No, just her godmother."
Courtney sighed, losing to her cousin once again. It was too late—half of their cousins were already staring in Rilla's direction.
Dexter was interested. He was eleven and knew everything. "She made Ella mad, because she married Vernon. But now she's all right. She says she didn't like her magic sister, and now an important magician gave her the sister's son to raise. He's only a little kid, and she's going to stomp the magic out of him, she says, and make sure he never learns the bad ways."
"Well, that's nice of her," said their cousin Alfred. "If Brenda was magic I'd want someone to save her."
"But I'd never desert my sister and pretend she wasn't real!" Courtney sobbed. "That's really bad! Even if she were a magician, I'd save her."
"What about the little kid?" Alfred wanted to know. "I wouldn't want anything stomping on me."
"Stomping out, Alfred," Dexter clarified. "That doesn't hurt."
"Is it still mean?"
Rilla looked at her cousin. "Yes, it's very mean. He can't help who he is, and I bet Bath is going to be nasty about it. He was always the meanest uncle."
But there was to be no more deliberation that night, as Uncle Barnaby was bundling the lot of them into bed. The four children went to bed, dreaming of magical kids and angry Uncle Vernon.
