ed to his looks, and asked him if he was ill? Fortunately the bride, all smirk and blush, had just entered the room. Mrs. Williams was none of the brightest of women, but she was good-natured, and readily concluding that Edward had been shocked by disagreeable news in the papers, interfered so judiciously, that without exciting suspicion, she drew off Mr. Twigtythe's attention, and engaged it until he soon after took his leave. Waverley immediately explained to his friends that he was under the necessity of going to London with as little delay as possible.

One cause of delay, however, did occur, to which Waverley had been very little accustomed. His purse, though well stocked when he first went to Tully-Veolan, had not been reinforced since that period; and although his life since was not of a nature to exhaust it hastily, for he had lived chiefly with his friends, or with the army, yet he found, that after settling with his kind landlord, he would be too poor to encounter the expense of travelling post. The best course, therefore, seemed to be to get into the great north road about Boroughbridge, and there take a place in the northern diligence, a huge old-fashioned tub, drawn by three horses, which completed the journey from Edinburgh to London, (God willing, as the advertisement expressed it) in three weeks. Our hero, therefore, took an affectionate farewell of his Cumberland friends, whose kindness he promised never to forget, and tacitly hoped one day to acknowledge, by substantial proofs of gratitude. After some petty difficulties and vexatious delays, and after putting his dress into a shape better befitting his rank, though perfectly plain and simple, he accomplished crossing the country, and found himself in the desired vehicle vis-a-vis to Mrs. Nosebag, the lady of Lieutenant Nosebag, adjutant and riding-master of the dragoons, a jolly woman of about fifty, wearing a blue habit, faced with scarlet, and silver-mounted horsewhip.

This lady was one of those active members of society who take upon them faire le fraise de conversation. She was just returned from the north, and informed Edward how nearly her regiment had cut the petticoat people into ribands at Falkirk, "only somehow there was one of those nasty awkward marshes that they are never without in Scotland, I think, and so our poor dear little regiment suffered something, as my Nosebag says, in that unsatisfactory affair. You, sir, have served in the dragoons?" Waverley was taken so much at unawares, that he acquiesced.

"O, I knew it at once; I saw that you were military from your air, and I was sure you could be none of the foot-wobblers, as my Nosebag calls them. What regiment, pray?" Here was a delightful question. Waverley, however, justly concluded that this good lady had the whole army-list by heart; and, to avoid detection by adhering to truth, answered, "G's dragoons, ma'am ; but I have retired some time."

"Oh, those as won the race at the battle of Preston, as my Nosebag says. Pray, sir, were you there?" "I was so unfortunate, madam, as to witness that engagement."

"And that was a misfortune that few of G's stood to witness, I believe, sir-ha! ha! ha! I beg your pardon; but a soldier's wife loves a joke."

"Devil confound you," thought Waverley; "what infernal luck has penned me up with this inquisitive hag!"

Fortunately the good lady did not stick long to one subject. "We are coming to Ferrybridge now," she said, 'where there was a party of ours left to support the beadles, and constables, and justices, and these sort of creatures that are examining papers and stopping re bels, and all that." They were hardly in the inn before she dragged Waverley to the window, exclaim. ing, "Yonder comes Corporal Bridoon, of our poor dear troop; he's coming with the constable man;

Bri

doon's one of my lambs, as Nosebag calls em. Come, Mr. A-a-a-pray, what's your name, sir?"

"Butler, madam," said Waverley, resolved rather to make free with the name of a former fellow-officer, than run the risk of detection by inventing one not to be found in the regiment.

"Oh, you got a troop lately, when that shabby fellow, Waverley, went over to the rebels. Lord, I wish our old cross Captain Crump would go over to the rebels, that Nosebag might get the troop. Lord, what can Bridoon be standing swinging on the bridge for? I'll be hang'd if he an't hazy, as Nosebag says. Come, sir, as you and I belong to the service, we'll go put the rascal in mind of his duty."

Waverley, with feelings more easily conceived than described, saw himself obliged to follow this doughty female commander. The gallant corporal was as like a lamb as a drunk corporal of dragoons, about six feet high, with very broad shoulders, and very thin legs, not to mention a great scar across his nose, could well be. Mrs. Nosebag adressed him with something which, if not an oath, sounded very like one, and commanded him to attend to his duty. "You be d-d for a commenced the gallant cavalier; but looking up in order to suit the action to the words, and also to enforce the epithet which he meditated, with an adjective applicable to the party, he recognised the speaker, made his military salam, and altered his tone." Lord love your handsome face, Madam Nosebag, is it you? why, if a poor fellow does happen to fire a slug of a morning, I am sure you were never the lady to bring him to harm."

"Well, you rascallion, go, mind your duty; this gentleman and I belong to the service; but be sure you look after that shy cock in the slouched hat that sits in the corner of the coach. I believe he's one of the rebels in disguise."

"D-n her gooseberry wig," said the corporal, when she was out of hearing, "that gimlet-eyed jade, mo

ther-adjutant, as we call her, is a greater plague to the regiment than provost-marshal, sergeant-major, and old Hubble-de-Shuff, the colonel, into the bargain. Come, Master Constable, let's see if this shy cock, as she calls him, (who, by the way, was a Quaker, from Leeds, with whom Mrs. Nosebag had had some tart argument on the legality of bearing arms,) will stand godfather to a sup of brandy, for your Yorkshire ale is cold on my stomach."

"The vivacity of this good lady, as it helped Edward out of this scrape, was like to have drawn him into one or two others. In every town where they stopped, she wished to examine the corps de garde, if there was one, and once very narrowly missed introducing Waverley to a recruiting-sergeant of his own regiment. Then she Captain'd and Butler'd him till he was almost mad with vexation and anxiety; and never was he more rejoiced in his life at the termination of a journey, than when the arrival of the coach in London freed him from the attention of Madam Nosebag.

CHAPTER XXIII.

What's to be done next?

IT was twilight when they arrived in town, and having shaken off his companions, and walked through a good many streets to avoid the possibility of being traced by them, Edward took a hackney-coach and drove to Colonel Talbot's house, in one of the principal squares at the west end of the town. That gentleman, by the death of relations, had succeeded since his marriage to a large fortune, possessed considerable political interest, and lived in what is called great style.

When Waverley knocked at his door, he found it at first difficult to procure admittance, but at length was shown into an apartment where the colonel was at table. Lady Emily, whose very beautiful features were still pallid from indisposition sat opposite to him. The instant he heard Waverley's voice, he started up and embraced him. "Frank Stanley, my dear boy, how d'ye do? Emily, my love, that is young Stanley."

The blood started to the lady's cheek as she gave Waverley a reception, in which courtesy was mingled with kindness, while her trembling hand and faltering voice showed how much she was startled and discomposed. Dinner was hastily replaced, and while Waverley was engaged in refreshing himself, the colonel proceeded" I wonder you have come here, Frank; the doctors tell me the air of London is very bad for your complaints. You should not have risked it. But I am delighted to see you, and so is Emily, though I fear we must not reckon upon your staying long."

"Some particular business brought me up," muttered Waverley,