me a courteous reception.

Before Scott had reached the gate he called out in a hearty tone,
welcoming me to Abbotsford, and asking news of Campbell. Arrived at the
door of the chaise, he grasped me warmly by the hand: "Come, drive
down, drive down to the house," said he, "ye're just in time for
breakfast, and afterward ye shall see all the wonders of the Abbey."

I would have excused myself, on the plea of having already made my
breakfast. "Hout, man," cried he, "a ride in the morning in the keen
air of the Scotch hills is warrant enough for a second breakfast."

I was accordingly whirled to the portal of the cottage, and in a few
moments found myself seated at the breakfast-table. There was no one
present but the family, which consisted of Mrs. Scott, her eldest
daughter Sophia, then a fine girl about seventeen, Miss Ann Scott, two
or three years younger, Walter, a well-grown stripling, and Charles, a
lively boy, eleven or twelve years of age. I soon felt myself quite at
home, and my heart in a glow with the cordial welcome I experienced. I
had thought to make a mere morning visit, but found I was not to be let
off so lightly. "You must not think our neighborhood is to be read in a
morning, like a newspaper," said Scott. "It takes several days of study
for an observant traveller that has a relish for auld world trumpery.
After breakfast you shall make your visit to Melrose Abbey; I shall not
be able to accompany you, as I have some household affairs to attend
to, but I will put you in charge of my son Charles, who is very learned
in all things touching the old ruin and the neighborhood it stands in,
and he and my friend Johnny Bower will tell you the whole truth about
it, with a good deal more that you are not called upon to believe--
unless you be a true and nothing-doubting antiquary. When you come