o a fit of laughter, and then slid down the
banister to the hall--a feat which my Aunt Kezia has forbidden her to
perform a dozen times at least. We went forward, made ourselves ready
for dinner, and came down to the dining-parlour.

In the dining-room we found a curious group. My Aunt Kezia looked as
stiff as whalebone; Father, pleased and radiant; Flora and Mr Keith
both seemed rather puzzled. Angus was in a better temper than usual.
Charlotte was evidently full of something very funny, which she did not
want to let out; Cecilia, soft, serene, and velvety; Fanny looked
nervous and uncomfortable; Hatty, scornful; while Amelia was her usual
self.

When dinner was over, we went back to the parlour. My Aunt Kezia
gathered up her heaps of flannel, gave one to Flora and another to me,
and began to stitch away at a third herself. Amelia threw herself on
the sofa, saying she was tired to death; and I was surprised to see that
my Aunt Kezia took no notice. Fanny sat down to draw; Hatty went on
with her knitting; Charlotte strolled out into the garden; and Cecilia
disappeared, I know not whither.

For an hour or more we worked away in solemn silence. Hatty tried to
whisper once or twice to Fanny, making her blush and look uncomfortable;
but Fanny did not speak, and I fancy Hatty got tired. Amelia went to
sleep.

At last, and all at once, Flora--honest, straightforward Flora--laid her
work on her knee, and looked up at my Aunt Kezia's grim set face.

"Aunt Kezia, will you tell me, is something the matter?"

"Yes, my dear," my Aunt Kezia seemed to snap out. "Satan's the matter."

"I don't know what you mean, Aunt," said Flora.

"'Tis a mercy if you don't. No, child, there is not much the matter for
you. The matter's for me and these girls here. Well, to be sure!
there's no fool like an old f--Caroline! (I fairly jumped) can't you
look what you are doing? You are herring-boning that seam on the wrong
side!"

Alas! the charge was true. I cannot tell how or why it is, but if there
are two seams to anything, I am sure to do one of them on the wrong
side. It is very queer. I suppose there is something wanting in my
brains. Hatty says--at least she did once when I said that--the brains
are wanting.

However, we sat on and sewed away, till at last Amelia woke up and went
up-stairs; Flora finished her petticoat, and my Aunt Kezia told her to
go into the garden. Only we four sisters were left. Then my Aunt