“I never knew any good come of change,” said Nicky.

“I’m sure that’s very true,” rejoined Grizzy; “and we have great reason to thank our stars that Mary is not a perfect dwarf; which I really thought she would have been for long, till she took a shooting,—­summer was a year.”

“But she’ll shoot no more,” said Jacky, with a shake of the head that might have vied with Jove’s imperial nod; “England’s not the place for shooting.”

“The Englishwomen are all poor droichs,” said Nicky, who had seen three in the course of her life.

“It’s a great matter to us all, however, and to herself too, poor thing, that Mary should be so happy,” resumed Grizzy.  “I’m sure I don’t know what she would have done if Lord Courtland had been an ill-tempered harsh man, which, you know, he might just as easily have been; and it would really have been very hard upon poor Mary—­and Lady Emily such a sweet creature too!  I’m sure we must all allow we have the greatest reason to be thankful.”

“I don’t know,” said Jacky; “Mary was petted enough before, I wish she may have a head to stand any more.”

“She’ll be ten times nicer than ever,” quoth Nicky.

“There is some reason, to be sure, that can’t be denied, to be afraid of that; at the same time, Mary has a great deal of sense of her own when she chooses; and it’s a great matter for her, and indeed for all of us, that she is under the eye of such a sensible worthy man as that Dr. Redgill.  Of course we may be sure Lord Courtland will keep a most elegant table, and have a great variety of sweet things, which are certainly very tempting for young people; but I have no doubt but Dr. Redgill will look after Mary, and see that she doesn’t eat too many of them.”

“Dr. Redgill must be a very superior man,” pronounced Jacky, in her most magisterial manner.

“If I could hear of a private opportunity,” exclaimed Nicky, in a transport of generosity, “I would send him one of our hams, and a nice little pig [1] of butter—­the English are all great people for butter.”

The proposal was hailed with rapture by both sisters in a breath; and it was finally settled that to those tender pledges of Nicky’s, Grizzy should add a box of Lady Maclaughlan’s latest invented pills, while Miss Jacky was to compose the epistle that was to accompany them.

The younger set of aunts were astonished that Mary had said nothing about lovers and offers of marriage, as they had always considered going to England as synonymous with going to be married.

To Mrs. Douglas’s more discerning eye, Mary’s happiness did not appear in so dazzling a light as to the weaker optics of her aunts.

“It is not like my Mary,” thought she, “to rest so much on mere external advantages; surely her warm affectionate heart cannot be satisfied with the grace of a mother and the beauty of a sister.  These she might admire in a stranger; but where we seek for happiness we better prize more homely attributes.  Yet Mary is so open and confiding, I think she could not have concealed from me had she experienced a disappointment.”