"I received one morning a letter, written in pale ink, on glassy, blue-lined note-paper, and bearing the postmark of a little Nebraska village. This communication, worn and rubbed, looking as though it had been carried for some days in a coat-pocket that was none too clean, was from my Uncle Howard."
The opening line of the story sets the backdrop for the narrative. It represents the large distance between Clark's studies in Boston and his aunt and uncle's home in Nebraska; the letter had travelled so far that it was "worn and rubbed." Worse for the wear, the letter also foreshadows the sorry state in which Aunt Georgiana arrives from a similar journey.
"The name of my Aunt Georgiana called up not alone her own figure, at once pathetic and grotesque."
This observation summarizes Clark's view of his Aunt Georgiana, and the fears he possesses about how Bostonians will see her. It introduces the premise of this story: the narrative unfolds through Clark's eyes. In Clark's opinion, Aunt Georgiana has been damaged and downtrodden by years on the Nebraska prairie.
"Don't love it so well, Clark, or it may be taken from you. Oh! dear boy, pray that whatever your sacrifice be it is not that."
Aunt Georgiana is primarily conveyed to the reader through the lens of her nephew; this is the one quote directly attributed to her. It reveals a martyr-like aspect to her character, suggesting that she deeply feels the pain of her sacrifice in moving with her husband to Nebraska.
