Mrs. Douglas made no reply; but conducted her to the drawing-room, where her chagrin was dispelled by the appearance of comfort and even elegance that it bore.  “Now, this is really what I like,” cried she, throwing herself on one of the couches; “a large fire, open windows, quantities of roses, comfortable Ottomans, and pictures; only what a pity you haven’t a larger mirror.”

Mrs. Douglas now rang for refreshments, and apologised for the absence of her husband, who, she said, was so much interested in his ploughing that he seldom made his appearance till sent for.

Henry then proposed that they should all go out and surprise his brother; and though walking in the country formed no part of Lady Juliana’s amusements, yet, as Mrs. Douglas assured her the walks were perfectly dry, and her husband was so pressing, she consented.  The way lay through a shrubbery, by the side of a brawling brook, whose banks retained all the wildness of unadorned nature.  Moss and ivy and fern clothed the ground; and under the banks the young primroses and violets began to raise their heads; while the red wintry berry still hung thick on the hollies.

“This is really very pleasant,” said Henry, stopping to contemplate a view of the lake through the branches of a weeping birch; “the sound of the stream, and the singing of the birds, and all those wild flowers make it appear as if it was summer in this spot; and only look, Julia, how pretty that wherry looks lying at anchor.”  Then whispering to her, “What would you think of such a desert as this, with the man of your heart?”

Lady Juliana made no reply but by complaining of the heat of the sun, the hardness of the gravel, and the damp from the water.

Henry, who now began to look upon the condition of a Highland farmer with more complacency than formerly, was confirmed in his favourable sentiments at sight of his brother, following the primitive occupation of the plough, his fine face glowing with health, and lighted up with good humour and happiness.  He hastily advanced towards the party, and shaking his brother and sister-in-law most warmly by the hand, expressed, with all the warmth of a good heart, the pleasure he had in receiving them at his house.  Then observing Lady Juliana’s languid air, and imputing to fatigue of body what, in fact, was the consequence of mental vacuity, he proposed returning home by a shorter road than that by which they had come.  Henry was again in raptures at the new beauties this walk presented, and at the high order and neatness in which the grounds were kept.

“This must be a very expensive place of yours, though,” said he, addressing his sister-in-law; “there is so much garden and shrubbery, and such a number of rustic bridges, bowers, and so forth:  it must require half a dozen men to keep it in any order.”