'll seem so to me, coming and going too," said my Aunt Kezia,
in the same tone as before. "No wonder. I couldn't work in silk
stockings with silver clocks, and sleeves with lace ruffles, and ever so
many yards of silk bundled up of a heap behind me. I like gowns I can
live in. I've had this on a bit over three times, Hatty."

"I should think so, Aunt!" said Hatty, laughing something like her old
self. "Why, I remember your making it the winter before last. Did not
I run the seams?"

"I dare say you did, child. When you see me bedecked in the pomps and
vanities of this wicked world, you may expect to catch larks by the sky
falling. At least, I hope so."

"Mademoiselle!" said Lucette's voice at the door, "Madame bids me say
the company comes from going, and if Madame and Mesdemoiselles will
descend, she will be well at ease."

"That's French lingo is it?" said my Aunt Kezia. "Poor lass!"

So down we went to the drawing-room, where we found Grandmamma, my Aunt
Dorothea, and my Uncle Charles, who came forward and led my Aunt Kezia
to a chair. (Miss Newton told me that ceremony was growing out of date,
and was only practised now by nice old-fashioned people; but Grandmamma
likes it, and I fancy my Uncle Charles will keep it up while she lives.)

"Madam," said Grandmamma, "I trust Mr Courtenay is well, and that you
had a prosperous journey."

"He is better than ever he was, I thank you, Madam," answered my Aunt
Kezia. "As for my journey, I did not much enjoy it, but here I am, and
that is well."

"Your other niece, Miss Drummond, is in Town, as I hear," said
Grandmamma. "Dorothea, my dear, it would doubtless be agreeable to Mrs
Kezia if that young gentlewoman came here. Write a line and ask her to
tarry with us while Mrs Kezia stays."

"I thank you, Madam," said my Aunt Kezia.

"If Miss Keith be with her, she may as well be asked too," observed
Grandmamma, after she had refreshed her faculties with a pinch of snuff.

My Aunt Dorothea sat down and writ the note, and then, bidding me ring
the bell, sent Caesar with it. He returned with a few lines from Flora,
accepting the invitation for herself, but declining it for Annas. I was
less surprised than sorry. Certainly, were I Annas, I should not care
to come back to Bloomsbury Square.

"Poor white thing!" said my Aunt Kezia, when she saw Flora in the
evening. "Why, you are worse to look at than these girls, and they are
ill enough."

Flora brings