"Over the misery which succeeded, I must, like Timanthes of old, draw a veil, for it was too painful to contemplate, even in painting. Douglas was snatched in the prime of life from the beloved of his bosom, from whom to part was the only anguish which religion had not yet taught him to endure with heavenly resignation. Even this bitter draught he learned at length to drink with Christian fortitude. No language could describe the scene of sorrow that I witnessed afterwards; but years have rolled away; the dear survivor lives to be a blessing still; and while with cheerfulness she can now mingle in the innocent gaieties of her children, her heart is set on heaven where she hopes for re-union with the only loved of earth." Here ended a recital which I felt deeply interesting, partly perhaps because the actors in this sad tale were my nearest relations, and partly too on account of the noble characters which it pourtrayed. Falkland, I am growing serious in this place, and shall lose my spirits if I stay much longer here. As we turned from the _sacred_ promontory, Mr. Otway playfully shook my elbow, and, by a sudden change in the modulation of his voice, made me feel that we were not to dwell any longer on the topic which had occupied the preceeding hour. At his request I gave him a history of my _life and adventures_. We talked of you, and I so completely _fired_ him by my subject, that he has taken your address, and means immediately to write to young Stanhope who, with his tutor, (a nephew, by the bye of Oliphant's) is to be at Pisa about the time of your arrival there, to make your acquaintance with all suitable activity. Mr. Otway gives a good character of his ward, so that probably you may find him worth knowing; but if not for his own sake, you will I am assured _fly to the meeting_ for the sake of your romance; and consider the youth as a link in that mysterious _concatenation_, by which your fate _or_ your fancy is bound to Glenalta. Before we re-entered the house, Mr. Otway desired me to follow him down a winding-path, at the end of which I found myself within a nice little enclosure, sheltered by a hawthorn hedge which was bursting into a sheet of fragrant blossoms. "This is my botanic garden," said my companion, "and I must not forget to send Fanny some plants which I promised her. Here, Howard, help me to take these to the gardener, and he shall send them over to my little pupil." "I will take them myself in the evening," said I, "and shall have the benefit of appearing very learned, if you will tell me their names. Emily has extracted a promise from me in our walk from the mountain this morning, to put myself under her tuition while I remain in these flowery regions, so the sooner I begin my task the better."