a natural fool an INNOCENT. [6]

CHAPTER X

ROSE BRADWARDINE AND HER FATHER

Miss Bradwardine was but seventeen; yet, at the last races of the county
town of--, upon her health being proposed among a round of beauties,
the Laird of Bumperquaigh, permanent feast-master and croupier of the
Bautherwhillery Club, not only said MORE to the pledge in a pint bumper
of Bourdeaux, but, ere pouring forth the libation, denominated the
divinity to whom it was dedicated, 'the Rose of Tully-Veolan;' upon
which festive occasion, three cheers were given by all the sitting
members of that respectable society, whose throats the wine had left
capable of such exertion. Nay, I am well assured, that the sleeping
partners of the company snorted applause, and that although strong
bumpers and weak brains had consigned two or three to the floor, yet
even these, fallen as they were from their high estate, and weltering--I
will carry the parody no further--uttered divers inarticulate sounds,
intimating their assent to the motion.

Such unanimous applause could not be extorted but by acknowledged merit;
and Rose Bradwardine not only deserved it, but also the approbation
of much more rational persons than the Bautherwhillery Club could have
mustered, even before discussion of the first MAGNUM. She was indeed a
very pretty girl of the Scotch cast of beauty, that is, with a profusion
of hair of paley gold, and a skin like the snow of her own mountains in
whiteness. Yet she had not a pallid or pensive cast of countenance;
her features, as well as her temper, had a lively expression; her
complexion, though not florid, was so pure as to seem transparent, and
the slightest emotion sent her whole blood at once to her face and neck.
Her form, though under the common size, was remarkably elegant, and her
motions light, easy, and unembarrassed. She came from another part
of the garden to receive Captain Waverley, with a manner that hovered
between bashfulness and courtesy.

The first greetings past, Edward learned from her that the dark hag,
which had somewhat puzzled him in the butler's account of his master's
avocations, had nothing to do either with a black cat or a broomstick,
but was simply a portion of oak copse which was to be felled that day.
She offered, with diffident civility, to show the stranger the way to
the spot, which, it seems, was not far distant; but they were prevented
by the appearance of the Baron of Bradwardine in person, who