In the afternoon, all but my brother and sister went to church with the good doctor; who left his compliments for me. I took a walk in the garden. My brother and sister walked in it too, and kept me in their eye a good while, on purpose, as I thought, that I might see how gay and good-humoured they were together. At last they came down the walk that I was coming up, hand-in-hand, lover-like.
Your servant, Miss—your servant, Sir—passed between my brother and me.
Is it not coldish, Clary! in a kinder voice than usual, said my sister, and stopped.—I stopped and courtesied low to her half-courtesy.—I think not, Sister, said I.
She went on. I courtesied without return; and proceeded, turning to my poultry-yard.
By a shorter turn, arm-in-arm, they were there before me.
I think, Clary, said my brother, you must present me with some of this breed, for Scotland.
If you please, Brother.
I'll choose for you, said my sister.
And while I fed them, they pointed to half a dozen: yet intending nothing by it, I believe, but to shew a deal of love and good-humour to each other before me.
My uncles next, (at their return from church) were to do me the honour of their notice. They bid Betty tell me, they would drink tea with me in my own apartment. Now, thought I, shall I have the subject of next Tuesday enforced upon me.