"I think," said Miss Isabella Tod, as Mr. Micklewham finished the reading

of the Doctor's epistle, "that my friend Rachel might have given me some

account of the ceremony; but Captain Sabre seems to have been a much more

interesting object to her than the pride and pomp to her brother, or even

the Glasgow manufacturer to her father." In saying these words, the

young lady took the following letter from her pocket, and was on the

point of beginning to read it, when Miss Becky Glibbans exclaimed, "I had

aye my fears that Rachel was but light-headed, and I'll no be surprised

to hear more about her and the dragoon or a's done." Mr. Snodgrass

looked at Becky, as if he had been afflicted at the moment with

unpleasant ideas; and perhaps he would have rebuked the spitefulness of

her insinuations, had not her mother sharply snubbed the uncongenial

maiden, in terms at least as pungent as any which the reverend gentleman

would have employed. "I'm sure," replied Miss Becky, pertly, "I meant no

ill; but if Rachel Pringle can write about nothing but this Captain

Sabre, she might as well let it alone, and her letter canna be worth the

hearing." "Upon that," said the clergyman, "we can form a judgment when

we have heard it, and I beg that Miss Isabella may proceed,"--which she

did accordingly.

LETTER XIV

Miss Rachel Pringle to Miss Isabella Tod

LONDON.

MY DEAR BELL--I take up my pen with a feeling of disappointment such as I

never felt before. Yesterday was the day appointed for the funeral of

the good old king, and it was agreed that we should go to Windsor, to

pour the tribute of our tears upon the royal hearse. Captain Sabre

promised to go with us, as he is well acquainted with the town, and the

interesting objects around the Castle, so dear to chivalry, and embalmed

by the genius of Shakespeare and many a minor bard, and I promised myself

a day of unclouded felicity--but the captain was ordered to be on

duty,--and the crowd was so rude and riotous, that I had no enjoyment

whatever; but, pining with chagrin at the little respect paid by the

rabble to the virtues of the departed monarch, I would fainly have

retired into some solemn and sequestered grove, and breathed my sorrows

to the listening waste. Nor was the loss of the captain, to explain and

illuminate the different baronial circumstances around the Castle, the

only thing I had to regret in this ever-memorable excursion--my tender

and affectionate mother was so desirous to see everything in the most

particular manner, in order that she might give an account of the funeral

to Nanny Eydent, that she had no mercy either upon me or my father, but

obliged us to go with her to the most difficult and inaccessible places.

How vain was all this meritorious assiduity! for of what avail can the

ceremonies of a royal funeral be to Miss Nanny, at Irvine, where kings

never die, and where, if they did, it is not at all probable that Miss

Nanny would be employed to direct their solemn obsequies? As for my

brother, he was so entranced with his own enthusiasm, that he paid but

little attention to us, which made me the more sensible of the want we

suffered from the absence of Captain Sabre. In a word, my dear Bell,

never did I pass a more unsatisfactory day, and I wish it blotted for

ever from my remembrance. Let it therefore be consigned to the abysses

of oblivion, while I recall the more pleasing incidents that have

happened since I wrote you last.




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