Miss Cecilia Stubbs, daughter of Squire Stubbs at the Grange. I know not
whether it was by the 'merest accident in the world,' a phrase which,
from female lips, does not always exclude MALICE PREPENSE, or whether it
was from a conformity of taste, that Miss Cecilia more than once crossed
Edward in his favourite walks through Waverley-Chase. He had not as yet
assumed courage to accost her on these occasions; but the meeting was
not without its effect. A romantic lover is a strange idolater,
who sometimes cares not out of what log he frames the object of his
adoration; at least, if nature has given that object any passable
proportion of personal charms, he can easily play the jeweller and
Dervise in the Oriental tale, [See Hoppner's tale of The Seven Lovers.]
and supply her richly, out of the stores of his own imagination, with
supernatural beauty, and all the properties of intellectual wealth.

But ere the charms of Miss Cecilia Stubbs had erected her into a
positive goddess, or elevated her at least to a level with the saint her
namesake, Mrs. Rachel Waverley gained some intimation which determined
her to prevent the approaching apotheosis. Even the most simple and
unsuspicious of the female sex have (God bless them!) an instinctive
sharpness of perception in such matters, which sometimes goes the length
of observing partialities that never existed, but rarely misses to
detect such as pass actually under their observation. Mrs. Rachel
applied herself with great prudence, not to combat, but to elude, the
approaching danger, and suggested to her brother the necessity that
the heir of his house should see something more of the world than was
consistent with constant residence at Waverley-Honour.

Sir Everard would not at first listen to a proposal which went to
separate his nephew from him. Edward was a little bookish, he admitted;
but youth, he had always heard, was the season for learning, and, no