Later in the evening, Miss Newton came up to me, with her fan held before her laughing face.
“My dear Miss Courtenay, what curious things your worthy Aunt does say! She asked me just now why I came into the world. I told her I did not know, and the idea had never before occurred to me: and she said, ‘Well, then, it is high time it did, and some to spare!’ Do all the people in Cumberland ask you such droll questions?”
I said I thought not, but my Aunt Kezia did, often enough.
“Well, she is a real curiosity!” said Miss Newton, and went away laughing.
Brocklebank Fells, April the 10th, 1746.
At least I begin on the 10th, but when I shall finish is more than I can tell. Things went on happening so fast after the last page I writ, that I neither had time to set them down, nor heart for doing it. Prince William of Hanover (whom the Whigs call Duke of Cumberland) left Edinburgh with a great army, not long after I writ; but no news has yet reached us of any hostile meeting betwixt him and the Prince. Mr Raymond saith Colonel Keith’s chances may depend somewhat upon the results of the battle, which is daily expected. Nevertheless, he adds, there is no chance, for the Lord orders all things.
My Aunt Kezia and Mr Raymond have taken wonderfully to one another. Hatty said to her that she could not think how they got on when they chanced on politics.
“Bless you, child, we never do!” said my Aunt Kezia. “We have got something better to talk about. And why should two brothers quarrel because one likes red heels to his shoes and the other admires black ones?”
“Ah, if that were all, Aunt!” said I. “But how can you leave it there? It seems to me not a matter for opinion, but a question of right. We have to take sides; and we may choose the wrong one.”