ing Caesar brought me a little three-cornered note. I
guessed at once from whom it came, and eagerly tore it open.

"We arrived in London last night, my dear Caroline, and are very
desirous of seeing you. Could you meet me at Mr Raymond's house this
afternoon? Mr Hebblethwaite will be so good as to call for you, if
you can come. Love from both to you and Hester. Your affectionate
friend, A. K."

Come! I should think I would come! I only hoped Annas already knew of
my share in the plot to rescue Angus. If not, what would she say to me?

I read the note again. "We"--who were "we"?--and "love from both."
Surely Flora must be with her! I kept wishing--and I could not tell
myself why--that Ephraim had less to do with it. I did not like his
seeming to be thus at the beck and call of Annas; and I did not know why
it vexed me. I must be growing selfish. That would never do! Why
should Ephraim not do things for Annas? I was an older friend, it is
true, but that was all. I had no more claim on him than any one else.
I recognised that clearly enough: yet I could not banish the feeling
that I was sorry for it.

When Ephraim came, I thought he looked exceeding grave. I had told
Grandmamma beforehand that Annas (and I thought Flora also) had returned
to London, and asked me to go and see them, which I begged her leave to
do. Grandmamma took a pinch of snuff over it, and then said that Caesar
might call me a chair.

"Could I not walk, Grandmamma? It is very near."

"Walk!" cried Grandmamma, and looked at me much as if I had asked if I
might not lie or steal. "My dear, you must not bring country ways to
Town like that. Walk, indeed!--and you a Courtenay of Powderham! Why,
people would take you for a mantua-maker."

"But, Grandmamma, please,--if I am a Courtenay, does it signify what
people take me for?"

"I should like to know, Caroline," said Grandmamma, with severity,
"where you picked up such levelling ideas? Why, they are Whiggery, and
worse. I cannot bear these dreadful mob notions that creep about now o'
days. We shall soon be told that a king may as well sell his crown and
sceptre, because he would be a king without them."

"He would not, Madam?" I am afraid I spoke mischievously.

"My dear, of course he would. Once a king, always a king. But the
common people need to have symbols before their eyes. They cannot take
in any but common notions of what they see. A monarch without