the uncle had examined the organ, he might have discovered some of those
blue lines which produce an exclamation from the young augurs.

"_Words_ worthy, too, of a nobleman," cried the old man in a trembling
voice; and holding out his hand, which shook under his emotion of
delight at hearing his beloved Rachel so praised, he seized that of his
nephew--

"Yes, Walter," he added, "you have by these words redeemed yourself, and
I will take them as an offering of your willingness to accept my legacy;
but, remember, I extort no promise, which might reduce the value of a
young woman's affection,--a gift to be accepted for its own sake."

"I am content," said Walter.

"And I am satisfied," added the uncle. "But here is wine on the table,"
he continued, as he turned his eye in the direction of a decanter of
good claret, just as if Rachel had, by her art of love, anticipated
what he wished at this moment. "Ah, Walter, if she shall watch your
wants as she has done mine, you will live to feel that you cannot want
_her_, and live; so fill up a glass for me, and one for yourself, that
we may drink to the happiness of the dear girl when, after I am dead,
she shall become your wedded wife."

"With all and sundry lands, tenements, hereditaments, and so forth,"
cried Walter, with a laugh which might pass as genuine, and which was
responded to by a chuckle from the dry throat of the uncle, which
certainly was so.

So the pledge was taken; and Walter Grierson went away, leaving the old