‘No one can have a higher admiration for dear Sir Walter than I have,’ said Vanda, ‘and I agree with Eric that this is one of the most pathetic scenes in the whole series of the novels. I have wept over Clara Mowbray myself, “full many a time and oft,” as people used to say. Still, how many in number are the Waverley Novels?’
‘I know,’ answered Hermione, ‘for I counted them last week. There are twenty-five, besides the poetical works. What a miracle of industry he was! A genuinely hospitable country gentleman—in earlier life a hard-working Clerk of Session, or whatever it was; while in his leisure hours he dashed off such trifles as Waverley, Ivanhoe, Marmion, The Lady of the Lake, and the rest. So if we set to work to discuss all the heroines in all the novels, with the pathetic and tragic incidents of their lives, it will take us years to “do” Scotland, and we shall never get back to England at all.’
Every one laughed at this summary of the situation. Mrs. Banneret thought Hermione’s view correct in the main. ‘Suppose,’ she continued, ‘that we coax our dear Mrs. Maclean to [417] ]join us in a farewell ramble, and devote the evening to a final discussion of Sir Walter’s works, each pilgrim to produce a favourite passage, scene, ballad, or incident. To-morrow a start to be made south, and no deviation allowed on any pretence whatever.’
‘Hear! hear!’ cried Reggie and Corisande; while the others voted ‘Ay’ unanimously, and Mr. Banneret, with an affectation of despair, expressed himself as powerless to resist his fate.
The supper was a joyous meal, in spite of forebodings of what the morrow might bring, and the parting of those whom ironic fate might never permit to reassemble in the same pleasant camaraderie.
There was great hunting up of old editions and copyings of passages, stimulated by the promise of prizes to be given for the rendering of the happiest selections in prose and poetry. Mrs. Maclean left early in the evening, but promised to spend the whole following day with the pilgrims, and to furnish her quota to the competition. The programme for the next day’s march was then completed with her aid and advice, and amid sincere regrets that this should be almost the last time they should meet in Britain, the symposium came to an end; the ladies of the party, after Mrs. Maclean’s carriage had been driven off, declaring that they had little enough time to pack and arrange for departure.
‘This is a “day to be marked with a white stone,”’ said Corisande, after the travellers had come back in the late afternoon, reasonably tired, [418] ]but in high spirits, and overflowing with gratitude to Mrs. Maclean, whose local knowledge and unfailing desire to explain all things difficult to the southern comprehension, rendered her companionship inestimable.
Supper was a meal for the gods, abounding as it did with sportive criticism of the personnel and adventures of the day. Of the Highland shepherd, who ‘had no English,’ and could not therefore inform two of the party, half-way up a mountain, where he had seen the main body of the pilgrims, though obviously desirous of making the important statement, until Mrs. Maclean, arriving, put an end to the difficulty by half-a-dozen words in Gaelic, to Hermione’s surprise and admiration; of the collie dogs, who understood only Lowland Scotch, and resented being told to ‘come behind,’ or ‘fetch ’em back,’ in plain English, or even unadulterated Australian.
The next day passed dreamily, all things wearing a subdued, if not sad expression, as of farewells in the air, sighs also and regrets, doubts as to meeting again, the uncertainties of life, ironies of fate, and so on.
Supper being over, Mrs. Banneret, foreseeing that the frolicsome chatter of the young folks would not lead to anything practical, called upon Reggie to make a commencement. That young gentleman, who was methodical of habit, had taken the trouble to look through the library, and being thus prepared, had chosen the description of the ‘Abbotsford Hunt,’ as, though neither [419] ]poetical nor romantic, delightfully descriptive of the hospitable, humorous, sport-loving side of Sir Walter’s character.