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Oh 'tis a snare indeed!—Moreover, remember it, Philip,
To the prestige of the richer the lowly are prone to be yielding,
Think that in dealing with them they are raised to a different region;
Where old laws and morals are modified, lost, exist not;
Ignorant they as they are, they have but to conform and be yielding;
There to protect and to guide them the old 'Tis not usual avails not,
But of a new 'Tis not right must the soul be with travail delivered,
Yea,—itself of itself engender and bear the protector.
How shall a poor quiet girl self-create the law and commandment?
How shall a poor silly sheep get endowed with the will of a woman!
But I said this in my letter before, and need not repeat it.
You will have seen yourself the danger of pantry-flirtation,
You will not now run after what merely attracts and entices,
Every-day things highly coloured, and common-place carved and gilded.
You will henceforth seek only the good: and seek it, Philip,
Where it is—not more abundant perhaps, but—more easily met with;
Where you are surer to find it, less likely to run into error,
In your station, regardful of that, though not dependent.
But as I said, I have said this before and need not repeat it.
So was the letter completed: a postscript afterward added,
Telling the tale that was told by the dancers returning from Rannoch.
So was the letter completed: but query, whither to send it?
Not for the will of the wisp, the cloud, and the hawk of the moorland,
Ranging afar thro' Lochaber, Lochiel, and Knoydart, and Croydart,
Have even latest extensions adjusted a postal arrangement.
Query, resolved very shortly when Hope from his chamber descending,
Came with a note in his hand from the Lady, his aunt, of Ilay;
Came and revealed the contents of a missive that brought strange tidings;
Came and announced to the friends in a voice that was husky with wonder,
Philip was staying at Balloch, was there in the room with the Countess,
Philip to Balloch had come and was dancing with Lady Maria.
Philip at Balloch, he said, after all that stately refusal,
He there at last—O strange! O marvel, marvel of marvels!
Airlie, the Waistcoat, with Katie, we left him this morning at Rannoch;
Airlie with Katie, he said, and Philip with Lady Maria.
And amid laughter Adam paced up and down, repeating
Over and over, unconscious, the phrase which Hope had lent him,
Dancing at Balloch, you say, in the castle, with Lady Maria.
