jesty,
Queen Victoria.

The invitation being gladly accepted, Margot had anxious consultations
with Christine about her dress. She knew that she was the handsomest
woman in Culraine, when she wore her best fishing costume; "but I
canna wear the like o' it," she said in a lingering, rather longing
tone.

"Na, na, Mither, ye be to dress yoursel' like a' ither ladies. Your
gray silk is fine and fitting, but you must hae a new bonnet, and
white gloves, and a pair o' patent leather shoon--a low shoe, wi' bows
o' black ribbon on the instep. There's few women hae a neater foot
than you hae, and we'll gae the morn and get a' things needfu' for
your appearance. Feyther hes his kirk suit, and he is requiring
naething, if it be not a pair o' gloves."

"He never puts a glove on his hand, Christine."

"Ay, weel, he can carry them in his hand. They are as respectable in
his hands, as on them. It is just to show folk that he can afford to
glove his hands, if he wants to do it. That is maistly what people
wear fine claes of all kinds for. They would be happier i' their ivery
day loose and easy suits, I'm thinking," said Christine.

"I wonder why Neil didna ask you, Christine. You helped him many a
weary hour to the place he is now standing on. If he had not asked
anyone else, he ought to hae bidden you to his finishing and
honoring. Why didn't he do that proper thing? Hae ye ony quarrel wi'
him?"

"Not a word oot o' place between us. I wrote him a four-page letter
three days syne."

"What's the matter, then?"

"He's feared for me, Mither. He's feared his friend Reginald will do
as Angus did, fa' in love wi' me, and then get oot o' love wi' him.
Men are silly as bairns anent some things. I'm not carin', Mither.
Someone must bide at hame, and look after wee Jamie, and you yoursel'
will be mair contented if you ken I am here to tak' tent o' the house
and bairn, and the lave o' things."

"Ay, it's better. You canna leave a house its lane, any mair than a
bairn. The ane will get into dole and mischief, as quick as the ither.
You'll be minding Polly Cromarty's bit cottage, taking fire and
burning to the ground, and not a man, woman, or bairn near it. And
Bella Simpson the same, and Kate Dalrymple losing a' her savings, and
the house locked and barr'd and naebody in it, or near it. I'll go to
Aberdeen real happy if you are watching the house, while I'm awa'
playing, mysel'."

So there was a week of happy preparation, and then o