“When you know how to do it,” put in Hatty.
“That is more than you do,” returned Sophy, “for you are safe to leave something out.”
Hatty made her a low courtesy, and danced away, humming, “Cease your funning,” just as we heard the sound of horses’ feet on the drive outside. There were all sorts of guesses as to who was coming, and none of them the right one, for when the door opened at last, in walked Angus Drummond and Mr Keith.
“Well, you did not expect us, I suppose?” said Angus.
“Certainly not to-night,” was Sophy’s answer.
“We finished our business sooner than we expected, and now we are ready to begin our holiday,” said he.
Father came in then, and there was a great deal of kissing and hand-shaking all round; but my Aunt Kezia and Flora were not in the room. They came in together, nearly half an hour later; but I think I never saw such a change in any girl’s face as in Flora’s, when she saw what had happened. She must be very fond of Angus, I am sure. Her cheeks grew quite rosy—she is generally pale—and her eyes were like stars. I did not think Angus seemed nearly so glad to see her.
Essie Langridge was very quiet all the evening; I fancy she was rather frightened of Cecilia. She said very little.
Father had a long day’s hunting yesterday, and Angus Drummond went with him. Mr Keith would not go, though Father laughed about it, and asked if he were afraid of the hares eating him up. Neither would he go to the hunt-supper, afterwards. There were fourteen gentlemen at it, and a pretty racket they made. My Aunt Kezia does not like these hunt-suppers a bit; she would be glad if they were anywhere else than here; but Father being the squire, of course they cannot be. She always packs us girls out of the way, and will not allow us to show our heads. So we sat up-stairs, in Sophy’s chamber, which is the largest and most out of the way; and we had some good fun, first in finding seats, for there were only two chairs in the room, and then in playing hunt the slipper and all sorts of games. I am afraid we got rather too noisy at last, for my Aunt Kezia looked in with,—
“Girls, are you daft? I protest you make nigh as much racket as the gentlemen themselves!”