That he should have left the pursuit of a profession in which he was said to be rapidly rising, to bury himself in a disagreeable place like Fairport, and brood over an unrequited passion, might be ridiculed by others as romantic, but was naturally forgiven as an excess of affection by the person who was the object of his attachment.

Had he possessed an independence, however moderate, or ascertained a clear and undisputed claim to the rank in society he was well qualified to adorn, she might now have had it in her power to offer her father, during his misfortunes, an asylum in an establishment of her own.

These thoughts, so favourable to the absent lover, crowded in, one after the other, with such a minute recapitulation of his words, looks, and actions, as plainly intimated that his former repulse had been dictated rather by duty than inclination.

Isabella was musing alternately upon this subject, and upon that of her father's misfortunes, when, as the path winded round a little hillock covered with brushwood, the old Blue-Gown suddenly met her.
With an air as if he had something important and mysterious to communicate, he doffed his bonnet, and assumed the cautious step and voice of one who would not willingly be overheard.

"I hae been wishing muckle to meet wi' your leddyship--for ye ken I darena come to the house for Dousterswivel." "I heard indeed," said Miss Wardour, dropping an alms into the bonnet--"I heard that you had done a very foolish, if not a very bad thing, Edie-- and I was sorry to hear it." "Hout, my bonny leddy--fulish?
A' the world's fules--and how should auld Edie Ochiltree be aye wise ?--And for the evil--let them wha deal wi' Dousterswivel tell whether he gat a grain mair than his deserts." "That may be true, Edie, and yet," said Miss Wardour, "you may have been very wrong." "Weel, weel, we'se no dispute that e'ennow--it's about yoursell I'm gaun to speak.