d at the moment with
unpleasant ideas; and perhaps he would have rebuked the spitefulness of
her insinuations, had not her mother sharply snubbed the uncongenial
maiden, in terms at least as pungent as any which the reverend gentleman
would have employed. "I'm sure," replied Miss Becky, pertly, "I meant no
ill; but if Rachel Pringle can write about nothing but this Captain
Sabre, she might as well let it alone, and her letter canna be worth the
hearing." "Upon that," said the clergyman, "we can form a judgment when
we have heard it, and I beg that Miss Isabella may proceed,"--which she
did accordingly.

LETTER XIV

_Miss Rachel Pringle to Miss Isabella Tod_
LONDON.

MY DEAR BELL--I take up my pen with a feeling of disappointment such as I
never felt before. Yesterday was the day appointed for the funeral of
the good old king, and it was agreed that we should go to Windsor, to
pour the tribute of our tears upon the royal hearse. Captain Sabre
promised to go with us, as he is well acquainted with the town, and the
interesting objects around the Castle, so dear to chivalry, and embalmed
by the genius of Shakespeare and many a minor bard, and I promised myself
a day of unclouded felicity--but the captain was ordered to be on
duty,--and the crowd was so rude and riotous, that I had no enjoyment
whatever; but, pining with chagrin at the little respect paid by the
rabble to the virtues of the departed monarch, I would fainly have
retired into some solemn and sequestered grove, and breathed my sorrows
to the listening waste. Nor was the loss of the captain, to explain and
illuminate the different baronial circumstances around the Castle, the
only thing I had to regret in this ever-memorable excursion--my tender
and affectionate mother was so desirous to see everything in the most
particular manner, in order that she might give an account of the funeral
to Nanny Eydent, that she had no mercy either upon me or my father, but
obliged us to go with her to the most difficult and inaccessible places.
How vain was all this meritorious assiduity! for of what avail can the
ceremonies of a royal funeral be to Miss Nanny, at Irvine, where kings
never die, and where, if they did, it is not at all probable that Miss
Nanny would be employed to direct their solemn obsequies? As for my
brother, he was so entranced with his own enthu