Glen, confused in his mind and full of curiosity, followed her about everywhere, softly waving his great tail like a fan, sweeping off a light article here and there from the crowded tables, and asking in his superior doggish way, what all this fuss and excitement (which he rather enjoyed on the whole) was about? till somebody sent him away with a kick and an adjuration as being “in everybody’s gait”--which was a sad end to his impartial and interested spectatorship. Little Rory toddled at his sister’s heels on the same errand, but could not be kicked like Glen--and altogether there was a great deal of confusion. But you never would have divined this when Mrs. Ogilvie came sweeping down stairs in her pink silk, as if the dinner had all been arranged by her major-domo, and she had never argued with the cook in her life. It may easily be supposed that the members of the family had little time to compare notes while their guests remained. And it was not till the last carriage had rolled away and the lady of the house had made her last smiling protestation that it was still just ridiculously early, that this meritorious woman threw herself into her favourite corner of the sofa, with a profound sigh of pleasure and relief. “Well!” she said, and repeated that long-drawn breath of satisfaction. “Well!--it’s been a terrible trouble; but I cannot say but I’m thoroughly content and pleased now that it’s past.” To this her husband, standing in front of the expiring fire (for even in August a little fire in the evening is not inappropriate on the Border), replied with a suppressed growl. “You’re easy pleased,” he said, “but why ye should take all this trouble to fill people with good things, as the Scripture says, that are not hungry and don’t want them--” “Oh, Robert, just you hold your peace! You’re always very well pleased to go out to your dinner. And as for the Allonby family, it was a clear duty. When you speak of Scripture you surely forget that we’re bidden to entertain strangers unawares. No, that’s not just right, it’s angels we entertain unawares.” “There’s no angels in that house, or I am mistaken,” said Mr. Ogilvie. “Well, there’s two very well-dressed girls, which is the nearest to it: and there’s another person, that may turn out even more important.” “And who may that be?” “Whist,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, holding up a finger of admonition as the others approached. “Well, Uncle John! And Effie, come you here and rest. Poor thing, you’re done out. Now I would like to have your frank opinion. Mine is that though it took a great deal of trouble, it’s been a great success.” “The salmon was excellent,” said Mr. Moubray. “And the table looked very pretty.” “And yon grouse were not bad at all.”