“See how good your sisters are,” said she, pointing to the poor girls, whose inflamed faces bore testimony to their labours.  “I declare I am quite sorry to see them take so much trouble,” yawning as she leant back in her chair; “is it not quite shocking, Tommy? ‘kissing her squirrel.’” Oh! pray, Henry, do tell me what I am to put on; for I protest I don’t know.  Favolle always used to choose for me; and so did that odious Martin, for she had an exquisite taste.”

“Not so exquisite as your own, I am sure; so for once choose for yourself,” replied the good-humoured husband; “and pray make haste, for my father waits dinner.”

Betwixt scolding, laughing, and blundering, the dress was at length completed; and Lady Juliana, in all the pomp of dress and pride of beauty, descended, leaning on her husband’s arm.

On entering the drawing-room, which was now in a more comfortable state, Douglas led her to a lady who was sitting by the fire:  and, placing her hand within that of the stranger, “Juliana, my love,” said he, “this is a sister whom you have not yet seen, a with whom I am sure you will gladly make acquaintance.”

The stranger received her noble sister with graceful ease; and, with a sweet smile and pleasing accent, expressed herself happy in the introduction.  Lady Juliana was surprised and somewhat disconcerted.  She had arranged her plans, and made up her mind to be condescending; she had resolved to enchant by her sweetness, dazzle by her brilliancy, and overpower by her affability.  But there was a simple dignity in the air and address of the lady, before which even high-bred affectation sank abashed.  Before she found a reply to the courteous yet respectful salutation of her sister-in-law Douglas introduced his brother; and the old gentleman, impatient at any farther delay, taking Lady Juliana by the hand, pulled, rather than led her into the dining-room.

Even Lady Juliana contrived to make a meal of the roast mutton and moorfowl; for the Laird piqued himself on the breed of his sheep, and his son was to good a sportsman to allow his friends to want for game.

“I think my darling Tommy would relish this grouse very much,” observed Lady Juliana, as she secured the last remaining wing for her favourite.”  Bring him here!” turning to the tall, dashing lackey who stood behind her chair, and whose handsome livery and well-dressed hair formed a striking contrast to old Donald’s tartan jacket and bob-wig.

“Come hither, my sweetest cherubs,” extending her arms towards the charming trio, as they entered, barking, and chattering, and flying to their mistress.  A scene of noise and nonsense ensued.

Douglas remained silent, mortified and provoked at the weakness of his wife, which not even the silver tones of her voice or the elegance of her manners could longer conceal from him.  But still there was a charm in her very folly, to the eye of love, which had not yet wholly lost its power.