"Quite right, my boy," replied the father, whose quick eye detected the confusion and blushing countenance of his son, when mentioning their fair neighbour's name, and longing for the union of both families in a closer tie than friendship. "Bella is indeed a treasure, and happy the young man who will posses such a prize for his wife. By-the-bye Charlie, don't you see a great change in her since you left for the University? Why, she will soon eclipse your fine Edinburgh ladies."
Charlie was not sorry to see an interruption to this panegyric, which, indeed, tallied with his own feelings, for Donald Munroe, his servant, whom he sent early to the post office made his appearance with a package of letters.
Mr. Stuart's exuberance was sadly damped, however by the news which the mail brought that morning, and the disappointment it conveyed to the excellent man weighed ever afterwards heavily on his mind. This was the downfall of his friend and chief, the proprietor whom he so much revered, and whom he never dreamed would be succeeded by an Englishman. The blow which he sustained, was, indeed, severe. His son's best prospects were for ever annihilated, and a noble clan of ancient standing were now deprived of their head. What a stroke to his hopes and expectations! Many a time he belied his far-sighted neighbour, Mr. McKays, prophecy—that their laird would bring himself to beggary. It was now but too true!
Charlie shared in his parent's disappointment, not solely for his own sake, having youth and vigour on his side; but knowing his father's nourished hopes regarding Charlie's own future prospects, and also his ancient clanish principles, and the total extinction of a long line of chieftains.
Among Charlie's correspondence was one epistle which partly dispelled the gloom his father's news had produced, and which brought smiles again to his countenance. The character of the writer may better be judged by inserting his communication, which ran as follows:—
"Glengarry.—My Dear Prince Charlie—Here I am safe and sound, having arrived last night, and determined to be beforehand with you in our correspondence, as I know you have hardly breathed your mountain air as yet.
