 I am aware of that; and that's the reason why I insist upon it, that there
shan't be a word about it in his Memorial.«
    »Is it a Memorial about his own history that he is writing, aunt?«
    »Yes, child,« said my aunt, rubbing her nose again. »He is memorialising the
Lord Chancellor, or the Lord Somebody or other - one of those people, at all
events, who are paid to be memorialised - about his affairs. I suppose it will
go in, one of these days. He hasn't been able to draw it up yet, without
introducing that mode of expressing himself; but it don't signify; it keeps him
employed.«
    In fact, I found out afterwards that Mr. Dick had been for upwards of ten
years endeavouring to keep King Charles the First out of the Memorial; but he
had been constantly getting into it, and was there now.
    »I say again,« said my aunt, »nobody knows what that man's mind is except
myself; and he's the most amenable and friendly creature in existence. If he
likes to fly a kite sometimes, what of that! Franklin used to fly a kite. He was
a Quaker, or something of that sort, if I am not mistaken. And a Quaker flying a
kite is a much more ridiculous object than anybody else.«
    If I could have supposed that my aunt had recounted these particulars for my
especial behoof, and as a piece of confidence in me, I should have felt very
much distinguished, and should have augured favourably from such a mark of her
good opinion. But I could hardly help observing that she had launched into them,
chiefly because the question was raised in her own mind, and with very little
reference to me, though she had addressed herself to me in the absence of
anybody else.
    At the same time, I must say that the generosity of her championship of poor
harmless Mr. Dick, not only inspired my young breast with some selfish hope for
myself, but warmed it unselfishly towards her. I believe that I began to know
that there was something about my aunt, notwithstanding her many eccentricities
and odd humours, to be honoured and trusted in. Though she was just as sharp
that day as on the day before, and was in and out about the donkeys just as
often, and was thrown into a tremendous state of indignation, when a young man,
going by, ogled Janet at a window (which was one of the gravest
