eet. I ought to
have taken the carriage, but I have a superstitious dread of giving up
the habit of walking, and would willingly stick to the last by my old
hardy customs.

Little but trifles to do at the Court. My hands are so covered with
chilblains that I can hardly use a pen--my feet ditto.

We bowled away at six o'clock to Mr. Wardlaw Ramsay's. Found we were a
week too early, and went back as if our noses had been bleeding.

_January_ 25.--Worked seriously all morning, expecting the Fergusons to
dinner. Alas! instead of that, I learn that my poor innocent friend Mary
is no more. She was a person of some odd and peculiar habits, wore a
singular dress, and affected wild and solitary haunts, but she was, at
the same time, a woman of talent, and even genius. She used often to
take long walks with me up through the glens; and I believe her sincere
good wishes attended me, as I was always glad of an opportunity to show
her kindness. I shall long think of her when at Abbotsford. This sad
event breaks up our little party. Will Clerk came, however, and his
_tete-a-tete_ was, of course, interesting and amusing in the highest
degree. We drank some whisky and water, and smoked a cigar or two, till
nine at night.

"No after friendships ere can raise
The endearments of our early days."

_January_ 26.--I muzzed on--I can call it little better--with _Anne of
Geierstein_. The materials are excellent, but the power of using them is
failing. Yet I wrote out about three pages, sleeping at intervals.

_January_ 27.--A great and general thaw, the streets afloat, the snow
descending on one's head from the roofs. Went to the Court. There was
little to do. Left about twelve, and took a sitting with Graham, who
begs for another. Sir James Stuart stood bottle-holder on this occasion.
Had rather an unfavourable account of the pictures of James Stuart of
Dunearn, which are to be sold. I had promised to pick up one or two for
the Duke of Buccleuch. Came home and wrote a leaf or two. I shall be
soon done with the second volume of _Anne of Geierstein_. I cannot
persuade myself to the obvious risk of satisfying the public, although I
cannot so well satisfy myself. I am like Beaumont and Fletcher's old
Merrythought who could not be persuaded that there was a chance of his
wanting meat. I never came into my parlour, said he, but I found the
cloth laid and dinner ready; surely it will be always thus. Use makes
perfectness.[245]

My r