adopt habits and companions inconsistent with their birth and breeding.  The ruthless proscription of party seems to degrade the victims whom it brands, however unjustly.  But let us hope a brighter day is approaching, when a Scottish country gentleman may be a scholar without the pedantry of our friend the Baron, a sportsman without the low habits of Mr. Falconer, and a judicious improver of his property without becoming a boorish two-legged steer like Killancureit.’

Thus did Flora prophesy a revolution, which time indeed has produced, but in a manner very different from what she had in her mind.

The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest encomium on her person, manners, and mind.  ‘That man,’ said Flora, ’will find an inestimable treasure in the affections of Rose Bradwardine who shall be so fortunate as to become their object.  Her very soul is in home, and in the discharge of all those quiet virtues of which home is the centre.  Her husband will be to her what her father now is, the object of all her care, solicitude, and affection.  She will see nothing, and connect herself with nothing, but by him and through him.  If he is a man of sense and virtue, she will sympathise in his sorrows, divert his fatigue, and share his pleasures.  If she becomes the property of a churlish or negligent husband, she will suit his taste also, for she will not long survive his unkindness.  And, alas! how great is the chance that some such unworthy lot may be that of my poor friend!  O that I were a queen this moment, and could command the most amiable and worthy youth of my kingdom to accept happiness with the hand of Rose Bradwardine!’

‘I wish you would command her to accept mine en attendant,’ said Fergus, laughing.

I don’t know by what caprice it was that this wish, however jocularly expressed, rather jarred on Edward’s feelings, notwithstanding his growing inclination to Flora and his indifference to Miss Bradwardine.  This is one of the inexplicabilities of human nature, which we leave without comment.

‘Yours, brother?’ answered Flora, regarding him steadily.  ’No; you have another bride—­Honour; and the dangers you must run in pursuit of her rival would break poor Rose’s heart.’

With this discourse they reached the castle, and Waverley soon prepared his despatches for Tully-Veolan.  As he knew the Baron was punctilious in such matters, he was about to impress his billet with a seal on which his armorial bearings were engraved, but he did not find it at his watch, and thought he must have left it at Tully-Veolan.  He mentioned his loss, borrowing at the same time the family seal of the Chieftain.

‘Surely,’ said Miss Mac-Ivor, ‘Donald Bean Lean would not—­’

‘My life for him in such circumstances,’ answered her brother; ‘besides, he would never have left the watch behind.’

‘After all, Fergus,’ said Flora, ’and with every allowance, I am surprised you can countenance that man.’