Mr. Montgomerie and Malcolm did not come in for ages, and I could see Lady Katherine getting uneasy. One or two things at dinner suggested to me that these two were not on the best terms, perhaps she feared they had come to blows in the dining-room. The Scotch, Mrs. Carruthers said, have all kinds of rough customs that other nations do not keep up any longer. They did turn up at last, and Mr. Montgomerie was purple all over his face, and Malcolm a pale green, but there were no bruises on him; only one could see they had had a terrible quarrel. There is something in breeding after all, even if one is of a barbarous country. Lady Katherine behaved so well, and talked charities and politics faster than ever, and did not give them time for any further outburst, though I fancy I heard a few “dams” mixed with the “bur-r-r-rs,” and not without the “n” on just for ornament, like Lord Robert’s. It was a frightful evening. _Wednesday, Nov. 9th (continued)._ Malcolm walked beside me going to church the next day. He looked a little less depressed and I tried to cheer him up. He did not tell me what his worries were, but Jean had said something about it when she came into my room as I was getting ready. It appears he has got into trouble over a horse called Angela Grey. Jean gathered this from Lady Katherine, she said her father was very angry about it, as he had spent so much money on it. To me it does not sound like a horse’s name, and I told Jean so, but she was perfectly horrified, and said it must be a horse, because they were not acquainted with any Angela Grey, and did not even know any Greys at all: so it must be a horse! I think that a ridiculous reason, as Mrs. Carruthers said all young men knew people one wouldn’t want to--and it was silly to make a fuss about it--and that they couldn’t help it--and they would be very dull if they were as good as gold like girls. But I expect Lady Katherine thinks differently about things to Mrs. Carruthers, and the daughters are the same. I shall ask Lord Robert when I see him again if it is a horse or no. Malcolm is not attractive, and I was glad the church was not far off. No carriages are allowed out on Sunday, so we had to walk, and coming back it began to rain, and we could not go round the stables, which I understand is the custom here every Sunday. Everything is done because it is the custom--not because you want to amuse yourself. “When it rains and we can’t go round the stables,” Kirstie said, “we look at the old ‘Illustrated London News,’ and go there on our way from afternoon church.” I did not particularly want to do that, so stayed in my room as long as I could. The four girls were seated at a large table in the hall, each with a volume in front of her when I got down at last. They must know every picture by heart, if they do it every Sunday it rains--they stay in England all the winter! Jean made room for me beside her.