follower of Mr. Comyn's favorite creed. Barbara had frequently heard her
father speak highly of his Glasgow friend, but as no warning had
prepared her, she was very far from dreaming of the character he was
about to perform in her presence; and, indeed, the wooing of the honest
clothier was neither very active nor oppressive--but, alas, for all
that, it was steadfast and resolute.

A wonderful deal of what they deemed "religious discussion" was carried
on betwixt Mr. Bruce and the minister during the visit of the former at
the manse, which, we have omitted to state, (though for certain reasons
we do not intend to give it a name,) was situated out of the town of
Aberdeen, in a retired strath or valley, full of hazels and sloe-bushes,
with the Dee running through them like a huge silver snake. Although
little more than half a mile from Aberdeen, and much nearer the church
of which Mr. Comyn was minister, the manse seemed as lonely and quiet as
if thirty miles lay between it and a busy, populous town. Now, though
Mr. Bruce had hired a sleeping apartment in the cottage of Mr. Comyn's
bell-man, or sexton, which stood hard by the kirk, he spent all his
spare time with his friend at the manse, where his meals were invariably
taken; and in addition to the wonderful amount of polemical palaver we
have hinted at, a wonderful deal of whisky-toddy did the worthy minister
and his guest contrive to swallow in the heat of their arguments. Many a
time and oft did good, innocent Miss Henny Comyn declare, that when the
shake-hands hour arrived, Mr. Bruce, "puir man, seemed to toddle aff to
his cosie beddie at Davy Bain's marvellously fu' o' the spirit!" True it
was; but the ancient virgin guessed not in her guilelessness, that the
spirit was an evil one, and elicited by man and fire from the
unsuspecting barleycorn.

At last, as we have said, Mr. Comyn spoke out his wish--nay, his
commands--that Barbara should prepare to receive Mr. Bruce as a
bridegroom in six months thereafter. And now Mr. Bruce himself, a shy
and dour man at other times, found courage one day, after dinner, to
express his--"love;" so he really called it, and so we suppose must we,
in our extreme ignorance of the precise category of nomenclature to
which the feelings that actuated him belonged. Honest man! bigoted and
selfish as he was, he was neither cruel by nature nor cross-grained; and
he was even moved by the pathetic and frank avowal which Barbara made to
him o