But there was yet further and more interesting private news. The proofs that Lovel was indeed the son of the Earl of Glenallan were found to be overwhelming. His heirship to the title had been fully made out. The chaplain who had performed his father's wedding had returned from abroad, exiled by the French Revolution. The witnesses also had been found. Most decisive of all, among the papers of the Earl's late brother, there was discovered a duly authenticated account of his carrying off the child, and of how he had had him educated and pushed on in the army.
So that very night the Antiquary enjoyed in some degree the crowning pleasure of his whole life, in bringing together father and son for the first time. That is, if the marriage which took place soon after between his young friend Lovel (or Lord William Geraldin) and Miss Isabella Wardour of Knockwinnock Castle did not turn out to be a yet greater pleasure. Old Edie still travels from farm to farm, but mostly now confines himself to the short round between Monkbarns and Knockwinnock. It is reported, however, that he means soon to settle with old Caxon, who, since the marriage of his daughter to Lieutenant Taffril, has been given a cottage near the three wigs which he still keeps in order in the parish,--the minister's, Sir Arthur's, and best of all, that of our good and well-beloved Antiquary.
THE END OF THE LAST TALE FROM "THE ANTIQUARY."
"Now," said Sweetheart, nodding particular approval, "that is the way a story ought to end up--everything going on from chapter to chapter, with no roundabouts, and everything told about everybody right to the very end!"
"Hum," said Hugh John, with a curl of his nose; "well, that's done with! But it was good about the Storm and the Duel! The rest was--"
"Hush," said Sweetheart, "remember, it was written by Sir Walter."
"Sir," said I to Hugh John, heavily parental, "_The Antiquary_ may not now be much to your taste, but the day will come when you may probably prefer it to all the rest put together."
At these words the young man assumed the expression common to boys who are bound to receive the wholesome advice of their elders, yet who do so with silent but respectful doubt, if not with actual disbelief.