“Then what can I do with a girl who has been educated in Scotland? She must be vulgar—all Scotchwomen are so. They have red hands and rough voices; they yawn, and blow their noses, and talk, and laugh loud, and do a thousand shocking things. Then, to hear the Scotch brogue—oh, heavens! I should expire every time she opened her mouth!”
“Perhaps my sister may not speak so very broad,” kindly suggested Adelaide in her sweetest accents.
“You are very good, my love, to think so; but nobody can live in that odious country without being infected with its patois. I really thought I should have caught it myself; and Mr. Douglas” (no longer Henry) “became quite gross in his language after living amongst his relations.”
“This is really too bad,” cried Lady Emily indignantly. “If a person speaks sense and truth, what does it signify how it is spoken? And whether your Ladyship chooses to receive your daughter here or not, I shall at any rate invite my cousin to my father’s house.” And, snatching up a pen, she instantly began a letter to Mary.
Lady Juliana was highly incensed at this freedom of her niece; but she was a little afraid of her, and therefore, after some sharp altercation, and with infinite violence done to her feelings, she was prevailed upon to write a decently civil sort of a letter to Mrs. Douglas, consenting to receive her daughter for a few months; firmly resolving in her own mind to conceal her from all eyes and ears while she remained, and to return her to her Scotch relations early in the summer.
This worthy resolution formed, she became more serene and awaited the arrival of her daughter with as much firmness as could reasonably have been expected.
“And for unfelt imaginations
They often feel a world of restless cares.”
LITTLE weened the good ladies of Glenfern the ungracious reception their protegee was likely to experience from her mother; for, in spite of the defects of her education, Mary was a general favourite in the family; and however they might solace themselves by depreciating her to Mrs. Douglas, to the world in general, and their young female acquaintances in particular, she was upheld as an epitome of every perfection above and below the sun. Had it been possible for them to conceive that Mary could have been received with anything short of rapture, Lady Juliana’s letter might in some measure have opened the eyes of their understanding; but to the guileless sisters it seemed everything that was proper. Sorry for the necessity Mrs. Douglas felt under of parting with her adopted daughter, was “prettily expressed;” had no doubt it was merely a slight nervous affection, “was kind and soothing;” and the assurance, more than once repeated, that her friends might rely upon her being returned to them in the course of a