On the following morning, after an early breakfast, I set off in a
postchaise for the Abbey. On the way thither I stopped at the gate of
Abbotsford, and sent the postilion to the house with the letter of
introduction and my card, on which I had written that I was on my way
to the ruins of Melrose Abbey, and wished to know whether it would be
agreeable to Mr. Scott (he had not yet been made a Baronet) to receive
a visit from me in the course of the morning.
While the postilion was on his errand, I had time to survey the
mansion. It stood some short distance below the road, on the side of a
hill sweeping down to the Tweed; and was as yet but a snug gentleman's
cottage, with something rural and picturesque in its appearance. The
whole front was overrun with evergreens, and immediately above the
portal was a great pair of elk horns, branching out from beneath the
foliage, and giving the cottage the look of a hunting lodge. The huge
baronial pile, to which this modest mansion in a manner gave birth was
just emerging into existence; part of the walls, surrounded by
scaffolding, already had risen to the height of the cottage, and the
courtyard in front was encumbered by masses of hewn stone.
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