ly, was grave, though she readily
contributed her talents to the amusement of society, and stood very high
in the opinion of the old Baron, who used to sing along with her such
French duets of Lindor and Cloris, etc., as were in fashion about the end
of the reign of old Louis le Grand.

It was generally believed, though no one durst have hinted it to the
Baron of Bradwardine, that Flora's entreaties had no small share in
allaying the wrath of Fergus upon occasion of their quarrel. She took her
brother on the assailable side, by dwelling first upon the Baron's age,
and then representing the injury which the cause might sustain, and the
damage which must arise to his own character in point of prudence--so
necessary to a political agent, if he persisted in carrying it to
extremity. Otherwise it is probable it would have terminated in a duel,
both because the Baron had, on a former occasion, shed blood of the clan,
though the matter had been timely accommodated, and on account of his
high reputation for address at his weapon, which Fergus almost
condescended to envy. For the same reason she had urged their
reconciliation, which the Chieftain the more readily agreed to as it
favoured some ulterior projects of his own.

To this young lady, now presiding at the female empire of the tea-table,
Fergus introduced Captain Waverley, whom she received with the usual
forms of politeness.

CHAPTER XXII

HIGHLAND MINSTRELSY

When the first salutations had passed, Fergus said to his sister, 'My
dear Flora, before I return to the barbarous ritual of our forefathers, I
must tell you that Captain Waverley is a worshipper of the Celtic muse,
not the less so perhaps that he does not understand a word of her
language. I have told him you are eminent as a translator of Highland
poetry, and that Mac-Murrough admires your version of his songs upon the
same principle that Captain Waverley admires the original,--because he
does not comprehend them. Will you have the goodness to read or recite to
our guest in English the extraordinary string of names which Mac-Murrough
has tacked together in Gaelic? My life to a moor-fowl's feather, you are
provided with a version; for I know you are in all the bard's councils,
and acquainted with his songs long before he rehearses them in the hall.'

'How can you say so, Fergus? You know how little these verses can
possibly interest an English stranger, even if I could translate them as
you pretend.