averley at her father's mansion of
Tully-Veolan.'

But Rose Bradwardine deserves better of her unworthy historian than to be
introduced at the end of a chapter.

In the mean while it may be noticed, that Waverley learned two things
from this colloquy: that in Scotland a single house was called a TOWN,
and a natural fool an INNOCENT.

CHAPTER X

ROSE BRADWARDINE AND HER FATHER

Miss Bradwardine was but seventeen; yet, at the last races of the county
town of----, upon her health being proposed among a round of beauties,
the Laird of Bumperquaigh, permanent toast-master and croupier of the
Bautherwhillery Club, not only said MORE to the pledge in a pint bumper
of Bourdeaux, but, ere pouring forth the libation, denominated the
divinity to whom it was dedicated, 'the Rose of Tully-Veolan'; upon which
festive occasion three cheers were given by all the sitting members of
that respectable society, whose throats the wine had left capable of such
exertion. Nay, I am well assured, that the sleeping partners of the
company snorted applause, and that although strong bumpers and weak
brains had consigned two or three to the floor, yet even these, fallen as
they were from their high estate, and weltering--I will carry the parody
no farther--uttered divers inarticulate sounds, intimating their assent
to the motion.

Such unanimous applause could not be extorted but by acknowledged merit;
and Rose Bradwardine not only deserved it, but also the approbation of
much more rational persons than the Bautherwhillery Club could have
mustered, even before discussion of the first magnum. She was indeed a
very pretty girl of the Scotch cast of beauty, that is, with a profusion
of hair of paley gold, and a skin like the snow of her own mountains in
whiteness. Yet she had not a pallid or pensive cast of countenance; her
features, as well as her temper, had a lively expression; her complexion,
though not florid, was so pure as to seem transparent, and the slightest
emotion sent her whole blood at once to her face and neck. Her form,
though under the common size, was remarkably elegant, and her motions
light, easy, and unembarrassed. She came from another part of the garden
to receive Captain Waverley, with a manner that hovered between
bashfulness and courtesy.

The first greetings past, Edward learned from her that the dark hag,
which had somewhat puzzled him in the butler's account of his master's
avocations, had nothing to do eit