Whispers the promise of to-morrow,
    Tells us of future days to come,
    When you shall glad our rustic home;
    When this wild whirlwind shall be still,
    And summer sleep on glen and hill,
    And Tweed, unvexed by storm, shall guide
    In silvery maze his stately tide,
    Doubling in mirror every rank
    Of oak and alder on his bank;
    And our kind guests such welcome prove
    As most we wish to those we love.” [1]

    Ashestiel, October 13, 1811.

[1] Lines written by Walter Scott while the carriage was waiting to convey my father and me from Ashestiel.—­S.  E. F.

The invitation had been often repeated, but my dear father’s increasing infirmities made him averse to leave home, and when, in compliance with Sir Walter’s urgent request, I visited Abbotsford in the autumn of 1829, I went alone.  I was met at the outer gate by Sir Walter, who welcomed me in the kindest manner and most flattering terms; indeed, nothing could surpass the courtesy of his address on such occasions.  On our way to the house he stopped and called his two little grandchildren, Walter and Charlotte Lockhart, who were chasing each other like butterflies among the flowers—­the boy was quite a Cupid, though not an alfresco one; for he wore a Tartan cloak, whose sundry extras fluttered in the breeze as he ran to obey the summons, and gave occasion to his grandfather to present him to me as “Major Waddell;” [1] the pretty little fairy-looking girl he next introduced as “Whipperstowrie,” and then (aware of my love for fairy lore) he related the tale, in his own inimitable manner, as he walked slowly and stopped frequently in our approach to the house.  As soon as I could look round I was struck with the singular and picturesque appearance of the mansion and its environs. Yet I must own there was more of strangeness than of admiration in my feelings; too many objects seemed crowded together in a small space, and there was a “felt want” of breadth and repose for the eye.  On entering the house I was however charmed with the rich imposing beauty of the hall, and admired the handsome antique appearance of the dining-room with its interesting pictures.  After luncheon Sir Walter was at pains to point them out to my notice, and related the histories of each and all; he then conducted me through the apartments, and showed me so much, and told me so many anecdotes illustrative of the various objects of interest and curiosity they contained, that I retain a very confused and imperfect recollection of what I saw and heard.  It was a strong proof of his good-nature that in showing the many works of art and relics of antiquity he had continued to accumulate and arrange with so much taste and skill, he should have been at such pains to point out the merits and relate the history of most of them to one so incapable of appreciating their value.  But he never allowed one to feel their own deficiencies, for he never appeared to be aware of them himself.