ty of her brother, of his clan, of every man in
Britain, at whatever personal hazard, to contribute to that restoration
which the partisans of the Chevalier de St. George had not ceased
to hope for. For this she was prepared to do all, to suffer all,
to sacrifice all. But her loyalty, as it exceeded her brother's in
fanaticism, excelled it also in purity. Accustomed to petty intrigue,
and necessarily involved in a thousand paltry and selfish discussions,
ambitious also by nature, his political faith was tinctured, at least,
if not tainted, by the views of interest and advancement so easily
combined with it; and at the moment he should unsheathe his claymore,
it might be difficult to say whether it would be most with the view of
making James Stuart a king, or Fergus Mac-Ivor an earl. This, indeed,
was a mixture of feeling which he did not avow even to himself, but it
existed, nevertheless, in a powerful degree.

In Flora's bosom, on the contrary, the zeal of loyalty burnt pure and
unmixed with any selfish feeling; she would have as soon made religion
the mask of ambitious and interested views, as have shrouded them
under the opinions which she had been taught to think patriotism. Such
instances of devotion were not uncommon among the followers of the
unhappy race of Stuart, of which many memorable proofs will recur to the
mind of most of my readers. But peculiar attention on the part of the
Chevalier de St. George and his princess to the parents of Fergus and
his sister, and to themselves when orphans, had riveted their faith.
Fergus, upon the death of his parents, had been for some time a page of
honour in the train of the Chevalier's lady, and, from his beauty
and sprightly temper, was uniformly treated by her with the utmost
distinction. This was also extended to Flora, who was maintained for
some time at a convent of the first order, at the princess's expense,
and removed from thence into her own family, where she spent nearly two
years. Both brother and sister retained the deepest and most grateful
sense of her kindness.

Having thus touched upon the leading principle of Flora's character, I
may dismiss the rest more slightly. She was highly accomplished, and
had acquired those elegant manners to be expected from one who, in early
youth, had been the companion of a princess; yet she had not learned
to substitute the gloss of politeness for the reality of feeling.
When settled in the lonely regions of Glennaquoich,