ks, which it had
polished for ages, it wandered murmuring down the glen, forming the
stream up which Waverley had just ascended. [See Note 20.] The borders
of this romantic reservoir corresponded in beauty; but it was beauty
of a stern and commanding cast, as if in the act of expanding into
grandeur. Mossy banks of turf were broken and interrupted by huge
fragments of rock, and decorated with trees and shrubs, some of which
had been planted under the direction of Flora, but so cautiously, that
they added to the grace, without diminishing the romantic wildness of
the scene.

Here, like one of those lovely forms which decorate the landscapes
of Poussin, Waverley found Flora, gazing on the waterfall. Two paces
further back stood Cathleen, holding a small Scottish harp, the use of
which had been taught to Flora by Rory Dall, one of the last harpers of
the Western Highlands. The sun, now stooping in the west, gave a rich
and varied tinge to all the objects which surrounded Waverley, and
seemed to add more than human brilliancy to the full expressive darkness
of Flora's eye, exalted the richness and purity of her complexion, and
enhanced the dignity and grace of her beautiful form. Edward thought
he had never, even in his wildest dreams, imagined a figure of such
exquisite and interesting loveliness. The wild beauty of the retreat,
bursting upon him as if by magic, augmented the mingled feeling of
delight and awe with which he approached her, like a fair enchantress of
Boiardo or Ariosto, by whose nod the scenery around seemed to have been
created, an Eden in the wilderness.

Flora, like every beautiful woman, was conscious of her own power,
and pleased with its effects, which she could easily discern from the
respectful, yet confused address of the young soldier. But, as she
possessed excellent sense, she gave the romance of the scene, and other
accidental circumstances, full weight in appreciating the feelings with
which Waverley seemed obviously to be impressed; and, unacquainted with
the fanciful and susceptible peculiarities of his character, considered
his homage as the passing tribute which a woman of even inferior charms
might have expected in such a situation. She therefore quietly led the
way to a spot at such a distance from the cascade, that its sound should
rather accompany than interrupt that of her voice and instrument, and,
sitting down upon a mossy fragment of rock, she took the harp from
Cathleen.

'I ha