ugh I should not call them
alike in other respects.

Lady Monksburn is a dear old lady; and as she comes from the South, I
must never say a word against Southerners again. She took both my hands
in her soft white ones, and spoke to me so kindly that before I had
known her ten minutes I was almost surprised to find myself chattering
away to her as if she were quite an old friend--telling her all about
Brocklebank, and my sisters, and Father, and my Aunt Kezia. I could not
tell how it was,--I felt so completely at home in that Monksburn
drawing-room. Everybody was so kind, and seemed to want me to enjoy
myself, and yet there was no fuss about it. If those be southern
manners, I wish I could catch them, like small-pox. But perhaps they
are Christian manners. That may be it. And I don't suppose you can
catch that like the small-pox. However, I certainly did enjoy myself
this afternoon. Mr Keith, I find, can draw beautifully, and they let
me look through some of his portfolios, which was delightful. And when
Annas, at her mother's desire, at down to the harpsichord, and sang us
some old Scots songs, I thought I never heard anything so charming--
until Flora joined in, and then it was more delicious still.

I think it would be easy to be good, if one lived at Monksburn!

Those grey eyes of Annas's seem to see everything. I am sure she saw
that Flora would like a quiet talk with Lady Monksburn, and she carried
me to see her peacocks and silver pheasants, which are great pets, she
says; and they are so tame that they will come and eat out of her hand.
Of course they were shy with me. Then we had a charming little walk on
the path which ran along by the side of the river, and Annas pointed out
some lovely peeps through the trees at the scenery beyond. When we came
in, I saw that Flora had been crying; but she seemed so much calmer and
comforted, that I am sure her talk had done her good. Then came supper,
and then Angus, who had cleared up wonderfully, and was more what he
used to be as a boy, instead of the cross, gloomy young man he has
seemed of late. Lady Monksburn offered to send a servant with arms to
accompany us home, but Angus appeared to think it quite unnecessary. He
had his dirk and a pistol, he said; and surely he could take care of two
girls! I am not sure that Flora would not rather have had the servant,
and I know I would. However, we came safe to the manse, meeting nothing
more terrific than