We were on such brotherly terms," he said, "that Verity--you see habit is too much for me, mother--wished me to regard her as a younger sister." "I thought you looked upon Anna as your sister, Malcolm;" but Mrs.
Herrick's keen gray eyes had a curious look in them--an acute observer might almost have thought that she was hoping that her son would contradict this statement.
"Oh, Anna," and then he laughed.

"My dear mother, one cannot draw comparisons between them--they are utterly dissimilar." "So I imagine," was the dry response; and then Mrs.Herrick made an effort to recover her wonted placidity.

"Malcolm," she said, putting her hand through his arm, "we must go downstairs now or the Bishop will be arriving.

I expect Anna is wondering what has become of us." Which proved to be the case.
Malcolm soon regained his good-humour.

His mother had rubbed him up the wrong way, as usual, but his good sense told him that it was no use resenting her plain-spoken remarks.
She had her own fixed opinions on every subject, and nothing could move her out of her groove.