news that Annas is to see the Princess next Thursday, but
she has made up her mind to tarry longer in London, and will not go back
with us. I asked where she was going to be, and Flora said at Mr
Raymond's.

"What, all alone?" said Hatty.

"Oh, no!" answered Flora; "Mr Raymond's mother is there."

I did not know that Mr Raymond had a mother.

Annas had a letter this morning from Lady Monksburn: the loveliest
letter, says Flora, that ever woman penned. Mr Raymond said, when he
had read it (which she let him do) that it was worthy of a martyr's
mother.

"Is Mr Raymond coming round?" said I.

"What, in politics?" replied Flora, with a smile. "I don't quite know,
Cary. I doubt if he will turn as quickly as you did."

"As I did? What can you mean, Flora?"

"Did you not know you had become of a very cool politician a very warm
one?" she said. "I remember, when you first went with me to
Abbotscliff, Angus used to tease you about being a Whig: and you once
told me you knew little about such matters, and cared less."

I looked back at myself, as it were, and I think Flora must be right. I
certainly thought much less of such things six months ago. I suppose
hearing them always talked of has made a change in me.

There is another thing that I have been thinking about to-night. What
is it in my Aunt Kezia that makes her feel so strong and safe to lean
upon--so different from other people? I should never dream of feeling
in that way to Grandmamma: and even Father,--though it is pleasant to
rely on his strength and kindness, when one wants something done beyond
one's own strength,--yet he is not restful to lean on in the same way
that she is. Is she so safe to hold by, because she holds by God?

This is Grandmamma's last Tuesday, as Lent begins to-morrow, and I
believe she would as soon steal a diamond necklace as have an assembly
in Lent. I had been walking a great deal, as I have carried my Aunt
Kezia these last few days to see all manner of sights, and I was very
tired; so I crept into a little corner, and there Ephraim found me.

By the way, it is most diverting to carry my Aunt Kezia to see things.
My Uncle Charles has gone with us sometimes, and Ephraim some other
times: but it is so curious to watch her. She is the sight, to me. In
the first place, she does not care a bit about going to see a thing just
because everybody goes to see it. Then she has very determined ideas of
her own about everything