 in order to see a grand hunting party, in
which he and some other Highland gentlemen proposed to join. The charms of
melody and beauty were too strongly impressed in Edward's breast to permit his
declining an invitation so pleasing. It was agreed, therefore, that he should
write a note to the Baron of Bradwardine, expressing his intention to stay a
fortnight at Glennaquoich, and requesting him to forward by the bearer (a gilly
of the Chieftain's) any letters which might have arrived for him.
    This turned the discourse upon the Baron, whom Fergus highly extolled as a
gentleman and soldier. His character was touched with yet more discrimination by
Flora, who observed that he was the very model of the old Scottish cavalier,
with all his excellences and peculiarities. »It is a character, Captain
Waverley, which is fast disappearing; for its best point was a self-respect,
which was never lost sight of till now. But in the present time the gentlemen
whose principles do not permit them to pay court to the existing government are
neglected and degraded, and many conduct themselves accordingly; and, like some
of the persons you have seen at Tully-Veolan, adopt habits and companions
inconsistent with their birth and breeding. The ruthless proscription of party
seems to degrade the victims whom it brands, however unjustly. But let us hope
that a brighter day is approaching, when a Scottish country-gentleman may be a
scholar without the pedantry of our friend the Baron; a sportsman without the
low habits of Mr. Falconer; and a judicious improver of his property, without
becoming a boorish two-legged steer like Killancureit.«
    Thus did Flora prophesy a revolution, which time indeed has produced, but in
a manner very different from what she had in her mind.
    The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest encomium on her
person, manners, and mind. »That man,« said Flora, »will find an inestimable
treasure in the affections of Rose Bradwardine who shall be so fortunate as to
become their object. Her very soul is in home, and in the discharge of all those
quiet virtues of which home is the centre. Her husband will be to her what her
father now is - the object of all her care, solicitude, and affection. She will
see nothing, and connect herself with nothing, but by him and through him. If he
is a man of sense and virtue, she will sympathise in his sorrows, divert his
fatigue, and share his pleasures. If she becomes the property of a churlish or
negligent husband, she will
