said I was fit for the stage, and you may think I was primmed up with
majestick Pride, but upon my word I felt myselfe turn a little
birsay,--birsay is a word which is a word that William composed which is
as you may suppose a little enraged. This horrid fat simpliton says that
my Aunt is beautifull, which is intirely impossible, for that is not her
nature."

What a peppery little pen we wield! What could that have been out of the
Sardonic Dean? What other child of that age would have used "beloved" as
she does? This power of affection, this faculty of _be_loving, and wild
hunger to be beloved comes out more and more. She perilled her all upon
it, and it may have been as well--we know, indeed, that it was far
better--for her that this wealth of love was so soon withdrawn to its
one only infinite Giver and Receiver. This must have been the law of her
earthly life. Love was indeed "her Lord and King"; and it was perhaps
well for her that she found so soon that her and our only Lord and King
Himself is Love.

Here are bits from her Diary at Braehead: "The day of my existence here
has been delightful and enchanting. On Saturday I expected no less than
three well-made Bucks, the names of whom is here advertised. Mr. Geo.
Crakey (Craigie), and Wm. Keith, and Jn. Keith,--the first is the
funniest of every one of them. Mr. Crakey and walked to Craky-hall
(Craigiehall), hand in hand in Innocence and matitation (meditation)
sweet thinking on the kind love which flows in our tender-hearted mind
which is overflowing with majestic pleasure no one was ever so polite to
me in the hole state of my existence. Mr. Craky you must know is a great
Buck, and pretty good-looking.

"I am at Ravelston enjoying nature's fresh air. The birds are singing