Part 13 (1/2)

These points having been conceded, the preliminaries were at length settled. The cards were slowly _doled_ out by Miss Jacky; and Lady Juliana was carefully instructed in the rules of the game, and strongly recommended always to try for a sequence, or pairs, etc. ”And if you win,” rejoined Miss Nicky, shaking the snuffer-stand in which were deposited the sixpences, ”you get all this.”

As may be conjectured, Lady Juliana's patience could not survive more than one life; she had no notion of playing for sixpences, and could not be at the trouble to attend to any instructions; she therefore quickly retired in disgust, leaving the aunts and nieces to struggle for the glorious prize. ”My dear child, you played that last stroke like a perfect natural,” cried Lady Maclaughlan to Miss Grizzy, as the rubber ended, they arose from the table.

”Indeed, I declare, I daresay I did,” replied her friend in a deprecating tone.

”Daresay you did! I know you did-humph! I knew the ace lay with you; I knew that as well as if I had seen it. I suppose you have eyes--but I don't know; if you have, didn't you see Glenfern turn up the king, and yet you returned his lead--returned our adversary's lead in the face of his king. I've been telling you these twenty years not to return your adversary's lead; nothing can be more despicable; nothing can be a greater proof of imbecility of mind--humph!” Then, seating herself, she began to exercise her fan with considerable activity. ”This has been the most disagreeable day I ever spent in this house, girls. I don't know what's come over you, but you are all wrong; my petticoat's ruined; my pockets picked at cards. It won't do, girls; it won't do--humph!”

”I am sure I can't understand it,” said Miss Grizzy in a rueful accent; ”there really appears to have been some fatality.”

”Fatality!--humph! I wish you would give everything its right name.

What do you mean by fatality?”

”I declare--I am sure--I--I really don't know,” stammered the unfortunate Grizzy.

”Do you mean that the spilling of the custard was the work of an angel?”

demanded her unrelenting friend.

”Oh, certainly not.”

”Or that it was the devil tempted you to throw away your ace there? I suppose there's a fatality in our going to supper just now,” continued she, as her deep-toned voice resounded through the pa.s.sage that conducted to the dining-room; ”and I suppose it will be called a fatality if that old Fate,” pointing to Donald, ”scalds me to death with that mess of porridge he's going to put on the table--humph!”

No such fatality, however, occurred; and the rest of the evening pa.s.sed off in as much harmony as could be expected from the very heterogeneous parts of which the society was formed.

The family group had already a.s.sembled round the breakfast-table, with the exception of Lady Juliana, who chose to take that meal in bed; but, contrary to her usual custom, no Lady Maclaughlan had yet made her appearance.

”The scones will be like leather,” said Miss Grizzy, as she wrapped another napkin round them.

”The eggs will be like s...o...b..a.l.l.s,” cried Miss Jacky, popping them into the slop-basin.

”The tea will be like brandy,” observed Miss Nicky, as she poured more water to the three teaspoonfuls she had infused.

”I wish we saw our breakfast,” said the Laird, as he finished the newspapers, and deposited his spectacles in his pocket.

At that moment the door opened, and the person in question entered in her travelling dress, followed by Sir Sampson, Philistine bringing up the rear with a large green bag and a little band-box.

”I hope your bed was warm and comfortable. I hope you rested well. I hope Sir Sampson's quite well!” immediately burst as if from a thousand voices, while the sisters officiously fluttered round their friend.

”I rested very ill; my bed was very uncomfortable; and Sir Sampson's as sick as a cat--humph!”

Three disconsolate ”Bless me's!” here burst forth.

”Perhaps your bed was too hard?” said Miss Grizzy.

”Or too soft?” suggested Miss Jacky.

”Or too hot?” added Miss Nicky.

”It was neither too hard, nor too soft, nor too hot, nor too cold,”