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o a fit of laughter, and then slid down the banister to the hall--a feat which my Aunt Kezia has forbidden her to perform a dozen times at least. We went forward, made ourselves ready for dinner, and came down to the dining-parlour. In the dining-room we found a curious group. My Aunt Kezia looked as stiff as whalebone; Father, pleased and radiant; Flora and Mr Keith both seemed rather puzzled. Angus was in a better temper than usual. Charlotte was evidently full of something very funny, which she did not want to let out; Cecilia, soft, serene, and velvety; Fanny looked nervous and uncomfortable; Hatty, scornful; while Amelia was her usual self. When dinner was over, we went back to the parlour. My Aunt Kezia gathered up her heaps of flannel, gave one to Flora and another to me, and began to stitch away at a third herself. Amelia threw herself on the sofa, saying she was tired to death; and I was surprised to see that my Aunt Kezia took no notice. Fanny sat down to draw; Hatty went on with her knitting; Charlotte strolled out into the garden; and Cecilia disappeared, I know not whither. For an hour or more we worked away in solemn silence. Hatty tried to whisper once or twice to Fanny, making her blush and look uncomfortable; but Fanny did not speak, and I fancy Hatty got tired. Amelia went to sleep. At last, and all at once, Flora--honest, straightforward Flora--laid her work on her knee, and looked up at my Aunt Kezia's grim set face. "Aunt Kezia, will you tell me, is something the matter?" "Yes, my dear," my Aunt Kezia seemed to snap out. "Satan's the matter." "I don't know what you mean, Aunt," said Flora. "'Tis a mercy if you don't. No, child, there is not much the matter for you. The matter's for me and these girls here. Well, to be sure! there's no fool like an old f--Caroline! (I fairly jumped) can't you look what you are doing? You are herring-boning that seam on the wrong side!" Alas! the charge was true. I cannot tell how or why it is, but if there are two seams to anything, I am sure to do one of them on the wrong side. It is very queer. I suppose there is something wanting in my brains. Hatty says--at least she did once when I said that--the brains are wanting. However, we sat on and sewed away, till at last Amelia woke up and went up-stairs; Flora finished her petticoat, and my Aunt Kezia told her to go into the garden. Only we four sisters were left. Then my Aunt
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