Dryburgh Abbey must be a most beautiful spot of a summer afternoon; and
it was beautiful even on this not very genial morning, especially when
the sun blinked out upon the ivy, and upon the shrubberied paths that
wound about the ruins. I think I recollect the birds chirruping in this
neighborhood of it. After viewing it sufficiently,--sufficiently for
this one time,--we went back to the ferry, and, being set across by the
same Undine, we drove back to Melrose. No longer riding against the
wind, I found it not nearly so cold as before. I now noticed that the
Eildon Hills, seen from this direction, rise from one base into three
distinct summits, ranged in a line. According to "The Lay of the Last
Minstrel," they were cleft into this shape by the magic of Michael Scott.
Reaching Melrose . . . . without alighting, we set off for
ABBOTSFORD,
three miles off. The neighborhood of Melrose, leading to Abbotsford, has
many handsome residences of modern build and very recent date,--suburban
villas, each with its little lawn and garden ground, such as we see in
the vicinity of Liverpool. I noticed, too, one castellated house, of no
great size, but old, and looking as if its tower were built, not for
show, but for actual defence in the old border warfare.
We were not long in reaching Abbotsford. The house, which is more
compact, and of considerably less extent than I anticipated, stands in
full view from the road, and at only a short distance from it, lower down
towards the river.
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