My lord laughed again, in high good-humour, exclaiming with one of his usual oaths, "The little minx sees everything. She saw the dowager's paint t'other day, and asked her why she wore that red stuff--didn't you, Trix? And the Tower; and St. James's; and the play; and the Prince George; and the Princess Ann--didn't you, Trix?"

"They are both very fat, and smelt of brandy," the child said.

Papa roared with laughing.

"Brandy!" he said. "And how do you know, Miss Pert?"

"Because your lordship smells of it after supper, when I kiss you before I go to bed," said the young lady, who indeed was as pert as her father said, and looked as beautiful a little gipsy as eyes ever gazed on.

"And now for my lady," said my lord, going up the stairs, and pa.s.sing alone under the tapestry curtain that hung before the drawing-room door.

Esmond always remembered that n.o.ble figure, handsomely arrayed in scarlet. Within the last few months he himself had grown from a boy to be a man, and with his figure his thoughts had shot up, and grown manly.

After her lord's return, Harry Esmond watched my lady's countenance with solicitous affection, and noting its sad, depressed look realised that there was a marked change in her. In her eagerness to please her husband she practised a hundred arts which had formerly pleased him, charmed him, but in vain. Her songs did not amuse him, and she hushed them and the children when in his presence. Her silence annoyed him as much as her speech; and it seemed as if nothing she could do or say could please him.

But for Harry Esmond his benefactress' sweet face had lost none of its charms. It had always the kindest of looks and smiles for him; not so gay and artless perhaps as those which Lady Castlewood had formerly worn, but out of her griefs and cares, as will happen when trials fall upon a kindly heart, grew up a number of thoughts and virtues which had never come into existence, had not her sorrow given birth to them.

When Lady Castlewood found that she had lost the freshness of her husband's admiration, she turned all her thoughts to the welfare of her children, learning that she might teach them, and improving her many natural gifts and accomplishments that she might impart them. She made herself a good scholar of French, Italian, and Latin. Young Esmond was house-tutor under her or over her, as it might happen, no more having been said of his leaving Castlewood since the night before he came down with the smallpox. During my lord's many absences these school days would go on uninterruptedly: the mother and daughter learning with surprising quickness, the latter by fits and starts only, as suited her wayward humour. As for the little lord, it must be owned that he took after his father in the matter of learning, liked marbles and play and sport best, and enjoyed marshalling the village boys, of whom he had a little court; already flogging them, and domineering over them with a fine imperious spirit that made his father laugh when he beheld it, and his mother fondly warn him. Dr. Tusher said he was a young n.o.bleman of gallant spirit; and Harry Esmond, who was eight years his little lordship's senior, had hard work sometimes to keep his own temper, and hold his authority over his rebellious little chief.

Indeed, "Mr. Tutor," as my lady called Esmond, had now business enough on his hands in Castlewood house. He had his pupils, besides writing my lord's letters, and arranging his accounts for him, when these could be got from his indolent patron.

Of the pupils the two young people were but lazy scholars, and as my lady would admit no discipline such as was then in use, my lord's son only learned what he liked, which was but little, and never to his life's end could be got to construe more than six lines of Virgil. Mistress Beatrix chattered French prettily, from a very early age; and sang sweetly, but this was from her mother's teaching, not Harry Esmond's, who could scarce distinguish one air from another, although he had no greater delight in life than to hear the ladies sing. He never forgot them as they used to sit together of the summer evenings, the two golden heads over the page, the child's little hand, and the mother's, beating the time with their voices rising and falling in unison.

But these happy days were to end soon, and it was by Lady Castlewood's own decree that they were brought to a conclusion. It happened about Christmas time, Harry Esmond being now past sixteen years of age, that his old comrade, Tom Tusher, returned from school in London, a fair, well-grown and st.u.r.dy lad, who was about to enter college, with good marks from his school, and a prospect of after-promotion in the church.

Tom Tusher's talk was of nothing but Cambridge now; and the boys examined each other eagerly about their progress in books. Tom had learned some Greek and Hebrew, besides Latin, in which he was pretty well skilled, and also had given himself to mathematical study under his father's guidance.

Harry Esmond could not write Latin as well as Tom, though he could talk it better, having been taught by his dear friend the Jesuit Father, for whose memory the lad ever retained the warmest affection, reading his books, and keeping his swords clean. Often of a night sitting in the Chaplain's room, over his books, his verses, his rubbish, with which the lad occupied himself, he would look up at the window, wishing it might open and let in the good father. He had come and pa.s.sed away like a dream; but for the swords and books Harry might almost think he was an imagination of his mind--and for two letters which had come from him, one from abroad, full of advice and affection, another soon after Harry had been confirmed by the Bishop of Hexton, in which Father Holt deplored his falling away from the true faith. But it would have taken greater persuasion than his to induce the boy to worship other than with his beloved mistress, and under her kind eyes he read many volumes of the works of the famous British divines of the last age. His mistress never tired of pursuing their texts with fond comments, or to urge those points which her fancy dwelt on most, or her reason deemed most important.

In later life, at the University, Esmond pursued the subject in a very different manner, as was suitable for one who was to become a clergyman.

But his heart was never much inclined towards this calling. He made up his mind to wear the ca.s.sock and bands as another man does to wear a breastplate and jack-boots, or to mount a merchant's desk for a livelihood--from obedience and necessity, rather than from choice.

When Thomas Tusher was gone, a feeling of no small depression and disquiet fell upon young Esmond, of which, though he did not complain, his kind mistress must have guessed the cause: for, soon after, she showed not only that she understood the reason of Harry's melancholy, but could provide a remedy for it. All the notice, however, which she seemed to take of his melancholy, was by a gaiety unusual to her, attempting to dispel his gloom. She made his scholars more cheerful than ever they had been before, and more obedient, too, learning and reading much more than they had been accustomed to do. "For who knows," said the lady, "what may happen, and whether we may be able to keep such a learned tutor long?"

Frank Esmond said he for his part did not want to learn any more, and cousin Harry might shut up his book whenever he liked, if he would come out a-fishing; and little Beatrix declared she would send for Tom Tusher, and _he_ would be glad enough to come to Castlewood, if Harry chose to go away.

At last came a messenger from Winchester one day, bearer of a letter with a great black seal, from the Dean there, to say that his sister was dead, and had left her fortune among her six nieces, of which Lady Castlewood was one.

When my lord heard of the news, he made no pretence of grieving.

"The money will come very handy to furnish the music-room and the cellar, which is getting low, and buy your ladyship a coat, and a couple of new horses. And, Beatrix, you shall have a spinnet; and, Frank, you shall have a little horse from Hexton Fair; and, Harry, you shall have five pounds to buy some books," said my lord, who was generous with his own, and indeed with other folk's money.

"I wish your aunt would die once a year, Rachel; we could spend your money, and all your sisters', too."

"I have but one aunt--and--and I have another use for the money, my lord," said my lady.

"Another use, my dear; and what do you know about money?" said my lord.

"And what the devil is there that I don't give you which you want?"

"I intend this money for Harry Esmond to go to college," says my lady.

"You mustn't stay longer in this dull place, but make a name for yourself, and for us, too, Harry."

"Is Harry going away? You don't mean to say you will go away?" cried out Frank and Beatrix in one breath.

"But he will come back; and this will always be his home," cried my lady, with blue eyes looking a celestial kindness. "And his scholars will always love him, won't they?"

"Rachel, you're a good woman!" exclaimed my lord, with an oath, seizing my lady's hand. "I wish you joy!" he continued, giving Harry Esmond a hearty slap on the shoulder. "I won't balk your luck. Go to Cambridge, boy, and when Tusher dies you shall have the living here, if you are not better provided by that time. We'll furnish the dining-room and buy the horses another year. I'll give thee a nag out of the stables; take any one except my hack and the bay gelding and the coach horses; and G.o.d speed thee, my boy!"

"Have the sorrel, Harry; 'tis a good one. Father says 'tis the best in the stable," said little Frank, clapping his hands and jumping up.

"Let's come and see him in the stable." And Harry Esmond in his delight and eagerness was for leaving the room that instant to arrange about his journey.

The Lady Castlewood looked after him with sad penetrating glances.

"He wishes to be gone already, my lord," said she to her husband.

The young man hung back abashed. "Indeed, I would stay forever if your ladyship bade me," he said.

"And thou wouldst be a fool for thy pains," said my lord. "Tut, tut, man.

Go and see the world. Sow thy wild oats; and take the best luck that fate sends thee. I wish I were a boy again, that I might go to college and taste the Thumpington ale."

"Indeed, you are best away," said my lady, laughing, as she put her hand on the boy's head for a moment. "You shall stay in no such dull place.

You shall go to college and distinguish yourself as becomes your name.

That is how you shall please me best; and--and if my children want you, or I want you, you shall come to us; and I know we may count on you."

"May Heaven forsake me if you may not!" Harry said, getting up from his knee.

"And my knight longs for a dragon this instant that he may fight," said my lady, laughing; which speech made Harry Esmond start, and turn red; for indeed the very thought was in his mind, that he would like that some chance should immediately happen whereby he might show his devotion. And it pleased him to think that his lady had called him "her knight," and often and often he recalled this to his mind, and prayed that he might be her true knight, too.

My lady's bed-chamber window looked out over the country, and you could see from it the purple hills beyond Castlewood village, the green common betwixt that and the Hall, and the old bridge which crossed over the river. When Harry Esmond went away to Cambridge, little Frank ran alongside his horse as far as the bridge, and there Harry stopped for a moment, and looked back at the house where the best part of his life had been pa.s.sed.

It lay before him with its grey familiar towers, a pinnacle or two shining in the sun, the b.u.t.tresses and terrace walls casting great blue shades on the gra.s.s. And Harry remembered all his life after how he saw his mistress at the window looking out on him in a white robe, the little Beatrix's chestnut curls resting at her mother's side. Both waved a farewell to him, and little Frank sobbed to leave him. Yes, he _would_ be his lady's true knight, he vowed in his heart; he waved her an adieu with his hat. The village people had good-bye to say to him, too. All knew that Master Harry was going to college, and most of them had a kind word and a look of farewell. I do not stop to say what adventures he began to imagine, or what career to devise for himself before he had ridden three miles from home. He had not read the Arabian tales as yet; but be sure that there are other folks who build castles in the air, and have fine hopes, and kick them down, too, besides honest Alnaschar.

This change in his life was a very fine thing indeed for Harry, who rode away in company of my lord, who said he should like to revisit the old haunts of his youth, and so accompanied Harry to Cambridge. Their road lay through London, where my Lord Viscount would have Harry stay a few days to see the pleasures of the town before he entered upon his university studies, and whilst here Harry's patron conducted the young man to my lady dowager's house near London. Lady Isabella received them cordially, and asked Harry what his profession was to be. Upon hearing that the lad was to take orders, and to have the living of Castlewood when old Dr. Tusher vacated it, she seemed glad that the youth should be so provided for.

She bade Harry Esmond pay her a visit whenever he pa.s.sed through London, and carried her graciousness so far as to send a purse with twenty guineas for him to the tavern where he and his lord were staying, and with this welcome gift sent also a little doll for Beatrix, who, however, was growing beyond the age of dolls by this time, and was almost as tall as Lady Isabella.

After seeing the town, and going to the plays, my Lord Castlewood and Esmond rode together to Cambridge, spending two pleasant days upon the journey. Those rapid new coaches that performed the journey in a single day were not yet established, but the road was pleasant and short enough to Harry Esmond, and he always gratefully remembered that happy holiday which his kind patron gave him.

Henry Esmond was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, to which famous college my lord had also in his youth belonged. My Lord Viscount was received with great politeness by the head master, as well as by Mr.

Bridge, who was appointed to be Harry's tutor. Tom Tusher, who was by this time a junior Soph, came to take Harry under his protection; and comfortable rooms being provided for him, Harry's patron took leave of him with many kind words and blessings, and an admonition to have to behave better at the University than my lord himself had ever done.

Thus began Harry Esmond's college career, which was in no wise different from that of a hundred other young gentlemen of that day. Meanwhile, while he was becoming used to the manners and customs of his new life and enjoying it thoroughly in his quiet way; at Castlewood Hall life was not so cheerful as it had been when he was there to note his mistress' sorrow or joy and act according to her need.

Coming home to his dear Castlewood in the third year of his academic course, Harry was overjoyed to see again the kind blue eyes of his mistress, when she and the children came to greet him. He found Frank shooting up to be like his gallant father in looks and in tastes. He had his hawks, and his spaniel dog, his little horse, and his beagles; had learned to ride and to shoot flying, and had a small court made up of the sons of the huntsmen and woodsmen, over whom he ruled as imperiously as became the heir-apparent.

As for Beatrix, Esmond found her grown to be taller than her mother, a slim and lovely young girl, with cheeks mantling with health and roses; with eyes like stars shining out of azure, with waving bronze hair cl.u.s.tered about the fairest young forehead ever seen; and a mien and shape haughty and beautiful, such as that of the famous antique statue of the huntress Diana.

This bright creature was the darling and torment of father and mother.

She intrigued with each secretly, and bestowed her fondness and withdrew it, plied them with tears, smiles, kisses, caresses; when the mother was angry, flew to the father; when both were displeased, transferred her caresses to the domestics, or watched until she could win back her parents' good graces, either by surprising them into laughter and good-humour, or appeasing them by submissive and an artful humility. She had been a coquette from her earliest days; had long learned the value of her bright eyes, and tried experiments in coquetry upon rustics and country 'squires until she should have opportunity to conquer a larger world in later years.

When, then, Harry Esmond came home to Castlewood for his last vacation he found his old pupil shot up into this capricious beauty; her brother, a handsome, high-spirited, brave lad, generous and frank and kind to everybody, save perhaps Beatrix, with whom he was perpetually at war, and not from his, but her, fault; adoring his mother, whose joy he was. And Lady Castlewood was no whit less gracious and attractive to Harry than in the old days when as a lad he had first kissed her fair, protecting hand.