The usual salutations were scarcely over when Miss Grizzy, flying to
her little writing-box, pulled out a letter, and, with an air of
importance, having enjoined silence, she read as follows:--
"LOCMARLIE CASTLE, _March_ 27,17--.
"DEAR CHILD-Sir Sampson's stomach has been as bad as it could well be,
but not so bad as your roads. He was shook to a jelly. My petticoat will
never do. Mrs. M'Hall has had a girl. I wonder what makes people have
girls; they never come to good. Boys may go to the mischief, and be good
for something--if girls go, they're good for nothing I know of. I never
saw such roads. I suppose Glenfern means to bury you all in the highway;
there are holes enough to make you graves, and stones big enough for
coffins. You must all come and spend Tuesday here--not all, but some of
you--you, dear child, and your brother, and a sister, and your pretty
niece, and handsome nephew--I love handsome people. Miss M'Kraken has
bounced away with her father's footman--I hope he will clean his knives
on her. Come early, and come dressed, to your loving friend,
"ISABELLA MACLAUGHLAN."
The letter ended, a volley of applause ensued, which at length gave
place to consultation. "Of course we all go--at least as many as the
carriage will hold: we have no engagements, and there can be no
objections."
Lady Juliana had already frowned a contemptuous refusal, but in due
time it was changed to a sullen assent, at the pressing entreaties of
her husband, to whom any place was now preferable to home.
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