Mrs. Montgomery and Lady L. now undertook the instruction of Edmund themselves, till proper arrangements should be made respecting that point, lest he should acquire too much of good Mrs. Smyth's accent; yet that discreet lady was far from thinking any such precaution necessary, as she prided herself on reading English with great precision, and indulging in her native idiom only in familiar conversation, for the sake, as she averred, of "Auld lang syne." This plan of the lessons brought Edmund much into the sitting-rooms, till, by degrees, it passed into a custom for him to remain all the morning with the ladies. Then, when particularly good, he was indulged with a sort of second dinner at the table: and he was always good, so that there was no opportunity to withdraw an indulgence once granted, and, very shortly, a chair and plate were set for him at every meal, as a matter of course; while every one grew so fond of him, that it seemed forgotten he was not a child of the family, and even the servants, of their own accord, all began to call him Master Edmund. CHAPTER IX. "This is thy Birth-day, and thou must be the little idol Of the festival." In the mean time preparations of every kind were making for Lady L.'s expected confinement. The doctor had an apartment assigned him, and now lived at Lodore House, lest his attendance should be a moment too late. A respectable woman, of approved abilities, arrived all the way from Edinburgh. She was provided with an assistant under-nurse from Keswick, and both established at Lodore. Offerings too, at the shrine of the expected stranger, made their appearance every day. A splendid set of caudle-cups, of very curious china, was sent from London by Lady Theodosia R., a sister of Lord L. A set of baby-linen, of needle-work the most exquisite, arrived from Scotland, sent by Major Morven, a rather elderly bachelor-brother of Mrs. Montgomery's. The major mentioned in his letter, that, as he did not understand those things himself, he had had them chosen by a committee of ladies, the best judges in Edinburgh. Many, indeed, were the little, very little things, which came from various quarters, more than we entirely understand ourselves; but every band-box that was opened produced something little, so that it seemed a sort of importation from the Liliputian world. Little hats of white beaver, like snow-balls, in which, however, little plumes were not forgotten. Little caps, little bonnets, and even little shoes, wrapped in silver paper. In short, there was nothing big, but the good woman from Edinburgh, and Major Morven. The major came to be in time for the christening, as he was to be one of the sponsors.