We shall not attempt to describe the meeting of the father and daughter,—­loving each other so affectionately, and separated under such perilous circumstances.  Still less shall we attempt to analyse the deep blush of Rose, at receiving the compliments of Waverley, or stop to inquire whether she had any curiosity respecting the particular cause of his journey to Scotland at that period.  We shall not; even trouble the reader with the humdrum details of a courtship Sixty Years since.  It is enough to say, that, under so strict a martinet as the Baron, all things were conducted in due form.  He took upon himself, the morning after their arrival, the task of announcing the proposal of Waverley to Rose, which she heard with a proper degree of maiden timidity.  Fame does, however, say, that Waverley had, the evening before, found five minutes to apprize her of what was coming, while the rest of the company were looking at three twisted serpents which formed a jet d’eau in the garden.

My fair readers will judge for themselves; but, for my part, I cannot conceive how so important an affair could be communicated in so short a space of time;—­at least, it certainly took a full hour in the Baron’s mode of conveying it.

Waverley was now considered as a received lover in all the forms.  He was made, by dint of smirking and nodding on the part of the lady of the house, to sit next to Miss Bradwardine at dinner, to be Miss Bradwardine’s partner at cards.  If he came into the room, she of the four Miss Rubricks who chanced to be next Rose, was sure to recollect that her thimble, or her scissors, were at the other end of the room, in order to leave the seat nearest to Miss Bradwardine vacant for his occupation, And sometimes, if papa and mamma were not in the way to keep them on their good behaviour, the misses would titter a little.  The old laird of Duchran would also have his occasional jest, and the old lady her remark.  Even the Baron could not refrain; but here Rose escaped every embarrassment but that of conjecture, for his wit was usually couched in a Latin quotation.  The very footmen sometimes grinned too broadly, the maid-servants giggled mayhap too loud, and a provoking air of intelligence seemed to pervade the whole family.  Alice Bean, the pretty maid of the cavern, who, after her father’s misfortune, as she called it, had attended Rose as fille-de-chambre, smiled and smirked with the best of them.  Rose and Edward, however, endured all these little vexatious circumstances as other folks have done before and since, and probably contrived to obtain some indemnification, since they are not supposed, on the whole, to have been particularly unhappy during Waverley’s six days’ stay at the Duchran.