Ardtaraig

death had been received, and were but added drops to the bitter cup. My mother would often recall grandmamma’s anguish during the first months of this terrible sorrow – indeed, no after bereavement seemed to touch her in the same degree.
Aunt Susan was the first of the daughters to be married, and being second in age, thought fit to exult over her elder sister Catherine, because of this. By way of banter she bestowed upon Catherine a pair of green stockings, such as were sometimes, in those days, given by the country-folk on the occasion of a younger sister outstripping an elder in the matrimonial race. The sensible Catherine, who herself was afterwards married and had a large family, took the gift in good part; remarking that the stockings seemed of excellent quality, and that she would be much pleased to get more of the same. This little incident brings out excellently the character of both sisters – the thoughtless, somewhat rough jollity of the one, and the dignified self-restraint of the other stand out in sharpest contrast. Aunt Susan went off in triumph with her young husband, James Campbell, of whom, except his name, I know nothing. There were two sons of the marriage, but the father did not live long. One of the sons died in childhood; the other, George, grew up to manhood, but like his father, died young. For a time Aunt Susan lived at Dunoon, and was quite a sprightly young widow.
Catherine was not long left in single blessedness, but became the wife of Mr. Alexander Brown, R.N. On her marriage she went to reside at a place called Glenbrantyre, but soon after began that life of many changes which was to be hers throughout. At different times she lived in England and Wales, as well as in Scotland, and had six children, five of whom grew up.
My mother, Elizabeth, was now the eldest marriageable daughter, and she proved in that respect somewhat difficult to manage. In earliest girlhood she had been somewhat in advance of the times, and like the fair maids of to-day, given to feats of muscular exercise, then put down by the iron hand of propriety, but which are now approved and encouraged under the, name of gymnastics – such as vigorous skipping and dancing, climbing trees, and riding every horse that came in her way, with or without a saddle. For these, and such-like bits of information, I am indebted to our Uncle Andrew, who was in this, and in other ways, a most kind and friendly uncle. Mamma thought him by far too communicative, and was sometimes displeased, but he only laughed, and enlightened me the more. I only wish I had him beside me now, while writing these pages. This phase of early life soon passed, and was followed, in mamma’s case, by a period of sentiment and romance. About this time, the Ballochyle of the day, Colonel Alexander Campbell, who was Gran’s first cousin, lived with his family, as before said, at Dunloskin. My mother and her sister Georgina, next in age, were, as they grew up, frequent visitors there. Mrs Campbell, who had (before marriage), been a Miss Rose, from somewhere on the East Coast, either Fife or Aberdeen, seems to have been quite a practical woman of the world – a pretty little woman, with a crop of short-cut curly hair, and a complexion so lovely that her enemies said she “painted,” which accusation her friends as strenuously denied! She laboured to bring the girls of Ardtarig, notably Elizabeth and Georgina, to a sense of their duty, in respect of making a suitable marriage, and that without allowing romantic predilection any place in the matter at all. Thus she was much chagrined on finding that she could by no means move them from their own ideas, which in her opinion were absurdly high-flown. On one occasion, having signally failed in a bit of deliberate match-making, she exclaimed, “Bessie is so romantic! I wonder if Georgina could be made to love him!” Georgina, it is to be feared, was equally impracticable, as nothing ever came of these kindly efforts. I may mention other visits which, at this time, grandmamma made with her grown-up daughters, to such houses as her aunt’s at Ardhighland, Armadale, Glendaruel, etc., which give pleasing evidence that the heroine of the waterfall did enjoy social life and its amusements, as befitted her position. One little incident, repeated to me recently by cousin Nina Maclean (a daughter of the Georgina just named), goes also to show that her many cares had not impaired her good looks. One day grandmamma and my mother were riding along together on horseback, when they met a countrywoman on the road. They drew up to speak to her, and she, in apparent bewilderment looked from the one to the other; at last, addressing grandmamma, she said, “Eh! mem, is’t yersel, or yer dochter?” Grandmamma responded, “It’s mysel, and sure I am,” and rode on with a merry laugh. Well, by this time, as the two elder sisters