Here, by accident too, in the bothie we laughed about so? Who would have guessed that here would be she whose glance at Rannoch Turned me in that mysterious way; yes, angels conspiring, Slowly drew me, conducted me, home, to herself; the needle Which in the shaken compass flew hither and thither, at last, long Quivering, poises to north. I think so. But I am cautious: More, at least, than I was in the old silly days when I left you. Not at the bothie now; at the changehouse in the clachan;[11] Why I delay my letter is more than I can tell you. There was another scrap, without or date or comment, Dotted over with various observations, as follows: Only think, I had danced with her twice, and did not remember. I was as one that sleeps on the railway; one, who dreaming Hears thro’ his dream the name of his home shouted out; hears and hears not,— Faint, and louder again, and less loud, dying in distance; Dimly conscious, with something of inward debate and choice,—and Sense of claim and reality present, anon relapses Nevertheless, and continues the dream and fancy, while forward Swiftly, remorseless, the car presses on, he knows not whither. Handsome who handsome is, who handsome does is more so; Pretty is all very pretty, it’s prettier far to be useful. No, fair Lady Maria, I say not that; but I _will_ say, Stately is service accepted, but lovelier service rendered, Interchange of service the law and condition of beauty: Any way beautiful only to be the thing one is meant for. I, I am sure, for the sphere of mere ornament am not intended: No, nor she, I think, thy sister at Tober-na-vuolich. This was the letter of Philip, and this had brought the Tutor: This is why Tutor and pupil are walking with David and Elspie.— When for the night they part, and these, once more together, Went by the lochside along to the changehouse near in the clachan, Thus to his pupil anon commenced the grave man, Adam. Yes, she is beautiful, Philip, beautiful even as morning: Yes, it is that which I said, the Good and not the Attractive! Happy is he that finds, and finding does not leave it! Ten more days did Adam with Philip abide at the changehouse, Ten more nights they met, they walked with father and daughter. Ten more nights, and night by night more distant away were Philip and she; every night less heedful, by habit, the father. Happy ten days, most happy: and, otherwise than intended, Fortunate visit of Adam, companion and friend to David. Happy ten days, be ye fruitful of happiness! Pass o’er them slowly, Slowly; like cruse of the prophet be multiplied, even to ages! Pass slowly o’er them, ye days of October; ye soft misty mornings, Long dusky eves; pass slowly; and thou, great Term-time of Oxford Awful with lectures and books, and Little-goes, and Great-goes, Till but the sweet bud be perfect, recede and retire for the lovers,