hall call her."

"Isn't it dreadful!" said poor Fanny.

"One thing more I have to say," continued my Aunt Kezia, laying down her
flannel again and putting on her spectacles. "Your father does not wish
you to be present at his marriage."

"Aunt Kezia!" came, I think, from us all--indignantly from Sophy,
sorrowfully from Fanny, petulantly from Hatty, and from me in sheer
astonishment.

"I suppose he has his reasons," said my Aunt Kezia; "but that being so,
I think Sophy had better go home for a while with the Bracewells, and
Hatty, too. You, Cary, may go with Flora instead, if you like. Fanny,
of course, is arranged for already, as she will be married by then, and
will only have to stop at home."

I thought I would very much rather go with Flora.

"I have had a letter from your Aunt Dorothea lately," my Aunt Kezia went
on, "in which she asks for Cary to pay her a visit next June. But now
we are only in March. So, as Cary must be somewhere between times, and
I think she would be better out of the way, she will go to Abbotscliff
with Flora--unless, my dear," she added, turning to me, "you would
rather be at Bracewell Hall? You may, if you like."

"I would rather be at Abbotscliff, very much, Aunt Kezia," said I; and I
think Aunt Kezia was pleased.

"Aunt Kezia, don't send me away!" pleaded Sophy. "Do let me stay and
help you to settle at Fir Vale. I should hate to stay at Bracewell, and
I should just like bustling about and helping you in that way. Won't
you let me?"

"Well, my dear, we will see," said my Aunt Kezia; and I think she was
pleased with Sophy too. Hatty declared that Bracewell would just suit
her, and she would not stay at any price, if she had leave to choose.
So it seems to be settled in that way. Fanny will be married on the
30th,--that is three weeks hence; and the week after, Hatty goes with
the Bracewells, and I with Flora, to their own homes; and my Aunt Kezia
and Sophy will remain here, and only leave the house on the evening
before the marriage.

It seems very odd that Father should have wished not to have us at his
wedding. Was it Cecilia who did not wish it? But I am not to call her
Cecilia any more.

When my cousins came in for tea, they were told too. Charlotte cried,
"Well, I never!" for which piece of vulgarity she was sharply pulled up
by my Aunt Kezia. Amelia fanned herself--she always does, whatever time
of year it may be--and languidly remarked, "Dear!" Angus sai