The family group had already assembled 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 snowballs," 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,"
thundered the Lady, as she seated herself at the table; "but it was all
of them.
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