f her soft smiles, and said no more.

I really am beginning to wish the Bracewells gone. Yet it is not so
much on their own account, Amelia is vain and silly, and Charlotte rude
and romping; but I do not think either of them is a hypocrite.
Charlotte is not, I am sure; she lets you see the very worst side of
her: and Amelia's affectation is so plain and unmistakable, that it
cannot be called insincerity. It is on account of that horrid Cecilia
that I want them to go, because I suppose she will go with them. Yes,
truth is truth, and Cecilia is horrid. I am getting quite frightened of
her. I do not know what she means to do next: but she seems to me to be
always laying traps of some sort, and for somebody.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wonder if people ever do what you expect of them? If somebody had
asked me to make a list of things that could not happen, I expect that I
should have put on it one thing that has just happened.

Sophy and I went up this morning to Goody Branscombe's cot, to take her
some wine and eggs from my Aunt Kezia. Anne Branscombe thinks she is
failing, poor old woman, and my Aunt Kezia told her to beat up an egg
with a little wine and sugar, and give it to her fasting of a morning:
she thinks it a fine thing for keeping up strength. We came round by
the Vicarage on our way back, and stepped in to see old Elspie. We
found her ironing the Vicar's shirts and ruffles, and she put us in
rocking-chairs while we sat and talked.

Old Elspie wanted to know all we could tell her about Flora and Angus,
and I promised I would bring Flora to see her some day. She says Mr
Keith--Mr Duncan Keith's father, that is--is the squire of Abbotscliff,
a very rich man, and a tremendous Tory.

"You're vara nigh strangers, young leddies," said Elspie, as she ironed
away. "Miss Fanny, she came to see me a twa-three days back, and Miss
Bracewell wi' her; and there was anither young leddy, but I disremember
her name."

"Was it Charlotte Bracewell?" said Sophy.

"Na, na, I ken Miss Charlotte ower weel to forget her, though she has
grown a deal sin' I saw her afore. This was a lassie wi' black hair,
and e'en like the new wood the minister has his dinner-table, wi' the
fine name--what ca' ye that, now?"

"Mahogany?" said I.

"Ay, it has some sic fremit soun'," said old Elspie, rather scornfully.
"I ken it was no sae far frae muggins [mugwort]. Mrs Sophy, my dea