The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL. 97
ancing; and that the Earl of Huntinglen, though far less acquainted with
technical detail, suffered ni step of the business to pass over, until he had
attained a general but distinct idea, of its import and its propriety.
They seemed to be admirably seconded in their benevolent intentions
towards the young Lord Glenvarloch by the skill and eager zeal of the
scrivener, whom Heriot had introduced to this piece of business, the most
important which Andrew had ever transacted in his life, and the particulars
of which were moreover agitated in his presence between an actual earl, and
one whose wealth and character might entitle him to be alderman of his
wardcl, if not to be lord mayor, in his turn.
While they were thus in eager conversation on business, the good Earl
even forgetting the calls o-f his appetite, and the delay of dinner, in his
anxiety to see that the scrivener received proper instructions, and that all
was rightly weighed and considered, before dismissing him to engross the
necessary deeds, the two young men walked together on the terrace which
overhung the river, and talked on the topics which Lord Dalgarno, the
eldest, and the most experienced, thought most likely to interest his new
friend.
These naturally regarded the pleasures attending a court life; and Lord
Dalgarno expressed much surprise at understanding that Nigel proposed an
instant return to Scotland.
" You are jesting with me," he said. "All the Court rings-it is needless
to mince it-with the extraordinary success of your suit-against the highest
interest, it is said, now influencing the horizon at Whitehall. Men think
of you -- talk of you - fix their eyes on you - ask each other, who is this
young Scottish lord, who has stepped so far in a single day? They augur,
in whispers to each other, how high and how far you may push your fortune
- and all that you design to make of it, is to return to Scotland, eat raw
oatmeal cakes, baked upon a peat-fire, have your hand shaken by every loon
of a blue-bonnet who chooses to dub you cousin, though your relationship
comes by Noah; drink Scots twopenny ale, eat half-starved red-deer venison,
-when you can kill it, ride upon a galloway, and be called my right honourable and maist worthy lord."'
" There is no great gaiety in the prospect before me, I confess," said Lord
Glenvarloch, "even if your father and good Master Heriot should succeed
in putting my affairs on some footing of plausible hope. And yet I trust
to do something for my vassals, as my ancestors before me, and to teach my
children, as I have myself been taught, to make some personal sacrifices,
if they be necessary, in order'to maintain with dignity the situation in
which they are placed by Providence."
Lord Dalgarno, after having once or twice stifled his laughter during this
speech, at length broke out into a fit of mirth, so hearty and so resistless,
that, angry as he was, the call of sympathy swept Nigel along with -hiln,
and, despite of himself, he could not forbear to join in a burst of laught( r,
which he thought not only causeless, but almost impertinent.
He soon recollected himself, however, and said, in a tone qualified to allti
Lord Dalgarno's extreme mirth, " This is all well, my lord; but how am I
to understand your merriment?'? Lord Dalga.rno only answered him with
redoubled peals of laughter, and at length held by Lord Glenvarloch's cloe k,
as if to prevent his falling down on the ground, in the extremity of } is
convulsion.
At length, while Nigel stood half abashed, half angry, at becoming th as
the subject of his new acquaintance's ridicule, and was only restrained fri nm
expressing his resentment against the son, by a sense of the obligations he
owed the father, Lord Dalgarno recovered himself, and spoke in a half-broken
voice, his eyes still running with tears. " I crave your pardon, my dear Lord
Glenvarloch - ten thousand times do I crave your pardon. But that last
picture of rural dignity, accompanied by your grave and angry surprise at
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