of Abbotsford.

Although I had intended to confine my slight reminiscence of Sir Walter
Scott to the time I had passed with him under his own roof in the
country, yet I cannot refrain from noticing the great kindness I
received from him during the following winter in town.

I had, when at Abbotsford in the autumn, spoken to him for the _first_
time of my authorship and of the work on which I was then engaged. He
entered into the subject with much warmth and earnestness, shook his
head at hearing how matters had hitherto been transacted, and said
unless I could make a better bargain in this instance I must leave to
him the disposal of _Destiny._ I did so, and from the much more liberal
terms he made with Mr. Cadell I felt, when too late, I had acted
unwisely in not having sooner consulted him or some one versant in these
matters. But _secrecy_ at that time was all I was anxious about, and so
I paid the penalty of trusting entirely to the good faith of the
publishers.

I saw Sir Walter frequently during the winter, and occasionally dined
_en famille_ with Miss Scott and him, or with one or two friends, as I
did not go into parties, neither indeed did he give any, but on account
of the state of his affairs lived as retiredly as he possibly could.

In the month of February he sustained a paralytic shock; as soon as I
heard of this I went to Miss Scott, from whom I learned the particulars.
She had seen her father in his study a short time before, apparently in
his usual health. She had returned to the drawing room when Sir Walter
opened the door, came in, but stood looking at her with a most peculiar
and _dreadful_ expression of countenance. It immediately struck her he