The History of Henry Esmond, Esq., a Colonel in the Service of Her Majesty Queen Anne

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  CHAPTER X.

  WE ENTERTAIN A VERY DISTINGUISHED GUEST AT KENSINGTON.

  Should any clue be found to the dark intrigues at the latter end ofQueen Anne's time, or any historian be inclined to follow it, 'twill bediscovered, I have little doubt, that not one of the great personagesabout the Queen had a defined scheme of policy, independent of thatprivate and selfish interest which each was bent on pursuing: St.John was for St. John, and Harley for Oxford, and Marlborough forJohn Churchill, always; and according as they could get help fromSt. Germains or Hanover, they sent over proffers of allegiance tothe Princes there, or betrayed one to the other: one cause, or onesovereign, was as good as another to them, so that they could hold thebest place under him; and like Lockit and Peachem, the Newgate chiefsin the "Rogues' Opera," Mr. Gay wrote afterwards, had each in his handdocuments and proofs of treason which would hang the other, only he didnot dare to use the weapon, for fear of that one which his neighboralso carried in his pocket. Think of the great Marlborough, the greatestsubject in all the world, a conqueror of princes, that had marchedvictorious over Germany, Flanders, and France, that had given the law tosovereigns abroad, and been worshipped as a divinity at home, forced tosneak out of England--his credit, honors, places, all taken from him;his friends in the army broke and ruined; and flying before Harley, asabject and powerless as a poor debtor before a bailiff with a writ. Apaper, of which Harley got possession, and showing beyond doubt that theDuke was engaged with the Stuart family, was the weapon with which theTreasurer drove Marlborough out of the kingdom. He fled to Antwerp, andbegan intriguing instantly on the other side, and came back to England,as all know, a Whig and a Hanoverian.

  Though the Treasurer turned out of the army and office every man,military or civil, known to be the Duke's friend, and gave the vacantposts among the Tory party; he, too, was playing the double game betweenHanover and St. Germains, awaiting the expected catastrophe of theQueen's death to be Master of the State, and offer it to either familythat should bribe him best, or that the nation should declare for.Whichever the King was, Harley's object was to reign over him; and tothis end he supplanted the former famous favorite, decried the actionsof the war which had made Marlborough's name illustrious, and disdainedno more than the great fallen competitor of his, the meanest arts,flatteries, intimidations, that would secure his power. If the greatestsatirist the world ever hath seen had writ against Harley, and not forhim, what a history had he left behind of the last years of Queen Anne'sreign! But Swift, that scorned all mankind, and himself not the least ofall, had this merit of a faithful partisan, that he loved those chiefswho treated him well, and stuck by Harley bravely in his fall, as hegallantly had supported him in his better fortune.

  Incomparably more brilliant, more splendid, eloquent, accomplished thanhis rival, the great St. John could be as selfish as Oxford was, andcould act the double part as skilfully as ambidextrous Churchill. Hewhose talk was always of liberty, no more shrunk from using persecutionand the pillory against his opponents than if he had been at Lisbon andGrand Inquisitor. This lofty patriot was on his knees at Hanover and St.Germains too; notoriously of no religion, he toasted Church and Queenas boldly as the stupid Sacheverel, whom he used and laughed at; andto serve his turn, and to overthrow his enemy, he could intrigue, coax,bully, wheedle, fawn on the Court favorite and creep up the back-stairas silently as Oxford, who supplanted Marlborough, and whom he himselfsupplanted. The crash of my Lord Oxford happened at this very timewhereat my history is now arrived. He was come to the very last days ofhis power, and the agent whom he employed to overthrow the conqueror ofBlenheim, was now engaged to upset the conqueror's conqueror, and handover the staff of government to Bolingbroke, who had been panting tohold it.

  In expectation of the stroke that was now preparing, the Irish regimentsin the French service were all brought round about Boulogne in Picardy,to pass over if need were with the Duke of Berwick; the soldiers ofFrance no longer, but subjects of James the Third of England and IrelandKing. The fidelity of the great mass of the Scots (though a most active,resolute, and gallant Whig party, admirably and energetically orderedand disciplined, was known to be in Scotland too) was notoriouslyunshaken in their King. A very great body of Tory clergy, nobility, andgentry, were public partisans of the exiled Prince; and the indifferentsmight be counted on to cry King George or King James, according aseither should prevail. The Queen, especially in her latter days,inclined towards her own family. The Prince was lying actually inLondon, within a stone's cast of his sister's palace; the first Ministertoppling to his fall, and so tottering that the weakest push ofa woman's finger would send him down; and as for Bolingbroke, hissuccessor, we know on whose side his power and his splendid eloquencewould be on the day when the Queen should appear openly before herCouncil and say:--"This, my lords, is my brother; here is my father'sheir, and mine after me."

  During the whole of the previous year the Queen had had many andrepeated fits of sickness, fever, and lethargy, and her death had beenconstantly looked for by all her attendants. The Elector of Hanover hadwished to send his son, the Duke of Cambridge--to pay his court to hiscousin the Queen, the Elector said;--in truth, to be on the spot whendeath should close her career. Frightened perhaps to have such a mementomori under her royal eyes, her Majesty had angrily forbidden the youngPrince's coming into England. Either she desired to keep the chances forher brother open yet; or the people about her did not wish to close withthe Whig candidate till they could make terms with him. The quarrelsof her Ministers before her face at the Council board, the pricks ofconscience very likely, the importunities of her Ministers, and constantturmoil and agitation round about her, had weakened and irritated thePrincess extremely; her strength was giving way under these continualtrials of her temper, and from day to day it was expected she mustcome to a speedy end of them. Just before Viscount Castlewood and hiscompanion came from France, her Majesty was taken ill. The St.Anthony's fire broke out on the royal legs; there was no hurry forthe presentation of the young lord at Court, or that person who shouldappear under his name; and my Lord Viscount's wound breaking outopportunely, he was kept conveniently in his chamber until such time ashis physician would allow him to bend his knee before the Queen. Atthe commencement of July, that influential lady, with whom it has beenmentioned that our party had relations, came frequently to visit heryoung friend, the Maid of Honor, at Kensington, and my Lord Viscount(the real or supposititious), who was an invalid at Lady Castlewood'shouse.

  On the 27th day of July, the lady in question, who held the mostintimate post about the Queen, came in her chair from the Palace hardby, bringing to the little party in Kensington Square intelligence ofthe very highest importance. The final blow had been struck, and my Lordof Oxford and Mortimer was no longer Treasurer. The staff was as yetgiven to no successor, though my Lord Bolingbroke would undoubtedly bethe man. And now the time was come, the Queen's Abigail said: and now myLord Castlewood ought to be presented to the Sovereign.

  After that scene which Lord Castlewood witnessed and described to hiscousin, who passed such a miserable night of mortification and jealousyas he thought over the transaction, no doubt the three persons who wereset by nature as protectors over Beatrix came to the same conclusion,that she must be removed from the presence of a man whose desirestowards her were expressed only too clearly; and who was no morescrupulous in seeking to gratify them than his father had been beforehim. I suppose Esmond's mistress, her son, and the Colonel himself, hadbeen all secretly debating this matter in their minds, for when Frankbroke out, in his blunt way, with:--"I think Beatrix had best beanywhere but here,"--Lady Castlewood said:--"I thank you, Frank, I havethought so, too;" and Mr. Esmond, though he only remarked that it wasnot for him to speak, showed plainly, by the delight on his countenance,how very agreeable that proposal was to him.

  "One sees that you think with us, Henry," says the viscountess, withever so little of sarcasm in her tone: "Beatrix is best out of thishouse whilst we have our guest in it, an
d as soon as this morning'sbusiness is done, she ought to quit London."

  "What morning's business?" asked Colonel Esmond, not knowing what hadbeen arranged, though in fact the stroke next in importance to that ofbringing the Prince, and of having him acknowledged by the Queen,was now being performed at the very moment we three were conversingtogether.

  The Court-lady with whom our plan was concerted, and who was a chiefagent in it, the Court physician, and the Bishop of Rochester, whowere the other two most active participators in our plan, had held manycouncils in our house at Kensington and elsewhere, as to the means bestto be adopted for presenting our young adventurer to his sister theQueen. The simple and easy plan proposed by Colonel Esmond had beenagreed to by all parties, which was that on some rather private day,when there were not many persons about the Court, the Prince shouldappear there as my Lord Castlewood, should be greeted by his sister inwaiting, and led by that other lady into the closet of the Queen. Andaccording to her Majesty's health or humor, and the circumstances thatmight arise during the interview, it was to be left to the discretionof those present at it, and to the Prince himself, whether he shoulddeclare that it was the Queen's own brother, or the brother of BeatrixEsmond, who kissed her Royal hand. And this plan being determined on,we were all waiting in very much anxiety for the day and signal ofexecution.

  Two mornings after that supper, it being the 27th day of July, theBishop of Rochester breakfasting with Lady Castlewood and her family,and the meal scarce over, Doctor A.'s coach drove up to our house atKensington, and the Doctor appeared amongst the party there, enliveninga rather gloomy company; for the mother and daughter had had words inthe morning in respect to the transactions of that supper, and otheradventures perhaps, and on the day succeeding. Beatrix's haughty spiritbrooked remonstrances from no superior, much less from her mother, thegentlest of creatures, whom the girl commanded rather than obeyed. Andfeeling she was wrong, and that by a thousand coquetries (which shecould no more help exercising on every man that came near her, than thesun can help shining on great and small) she had provoked the Prince'sdangerous admiration, and allured him to the expression of it, she wasonly the more wilful and imperious the more she felt her error.

  To this party, the Prince being served with chocolate in his bedchamber,where he lay late, sleeping away the fumes of his wine, the Doctor came,and by the urgent and startling nature of his news, dissipated instantlythat private and minor unpleasantry under which the family of Castlewoodwas laboring.

  He asked for the guest; the guest was above in his own apartment: hebade Monsieur Baptiste go up to his master instantly, and requested thatMY LORD VISCOUNT CASTLEWOOD would straightway put his uniform on, andcome away in the Doctor's coach now at the door.

  He then informed Madam Beatrix what her part of the comedy was tobe:--"In half an hour," says he, "her Majesty and her favorite ladywill take the air in the Cedar-walk behind the new Banqueting-house. HerMajesty will be drawn in a garden-chair, Madam Beatrix Esmond and HERBROTHER, MY LORD VISCOUNT CASTLEWOOD, will be walking in the privategarden, (here is Lady Masham's key,) and will come unawares upon theRoyal party. The man that draws the chair will retire, and leave theQueen, the favorite, and the maid of honor and her brother together;Mistress Beatrix will present her brother, and then!--and then, my LordBishop will pray for the result of the interview, and his Scots clerkwill say Amen! Quick, put on your hood, Madam Beatrix; why doth not hisMajesty come down? Such another chance may not present itself for monthsagain."

  The Prince was late and lazy, and indeed had all but lost that chancethrough his indolence. The Queen was actually about to leave the gardenjust when the party reached it; the Doctor, the Bishop, the maid ofhonor and her brother went off together in the physician's coach,and had been gone half an hour when Colonel Esmond came to KensingtonSquare.

  The news of this errand, on which Beatrix was gone, of course for amoment put all thoughts of private jealousy out of Colonel Esmond'shead. In half an hour more the coach returned; the Bishop descended fromit first, and gave his arm to Beatrix, who now came out. His lordshipwent back into the carriage again, and the maid of honor entered thehouse alone. We were all gazing at her from the upper window, trying toread from her countenance the result of the interview from which she hadjust come.

  She came into the drawing-room in a great tremor and very pale; sheasked for a glass of water as her mother went to meet her, and afterdrinking that and putting off her hood, she began to speak--"We may allhope for the best," says she; "it has cost the Queen a fit. Her Majestywas in her chair in the Cedar-walk, accompanied only by Lady ----, whenwe entered by the private wicket from the west side of the garden, andturned towards her, the Doctor following us. They waited in a sidewalk hidden by the shrubs, as we advanced towards the chair. My heartthrobbed so I scarce could speak; but my Prince whispered, 'Courage,Beatrix,' and marched on with a steady step. His face was a littleflushed, but he was not afraid of the danger. He who fought so bravelyat Malplaquet fears nothing." Esmond and Castlewood looked at each otherat this compliment, neither liking the sound of it.

  "The Prince uncovered," Beatrix continued, "and I saw the Queen turninground to Lady Masham, as if asking who these two were. Her Majestylooked very pale and ill, and then flushed up; the favorite made us asignal to advance, and I went up, leading my Prince by the hand, quiteclose to the chair: 'Your Majesty will give my Lord Viscount your handto kiss,' says her lady, and the Queen put out her hand, which thePrince kissed, kneeling on his knee, he who should kneel to no mortalman or woman.

  "'You have been long from England, my lord,' says the Queen: 'why wereyou not here to give a home to your mother and sister?'

  "'I am come, Madam, to stay now, if the Queen desires me,' says thePrince, with another low bow.

  "'You have taken a foreign wife, my lord, and a foreign religion; wasnot that of England good enough for you?'

  "'In returning to my father's church,' says the Prince, 'I do not lovemy mother the less, nor am I the less faithful servant of your majesty.'

  "Here," says Beatrix, "the favorite gave me a little signal with herhand to fall back, which I did, though I died to hear what should pass;and whispered something to the Queen, which made her Majesty start andutter one or two words in a hurried manner, looking towards the Prince,and catching hold with her hand of the arm of her chair. He advancedstill nearer towards it; he began to speak very rapidly; I caught thewords, 'Father, blessing, forgiveness,'--and then presently the Princefell on his knees; took from his breast a paper he had there, handed itto the Queen, who, as soon as she saw it, flung up both her arms witha scream, and took away that hand nearest the Prince, and which heendeavored to kiss. He went on speaking with great animation of gesture,now clasping his hands together on his heart, now opening them as thoughto say: 'I am here, your brother, in your power.' Lady Masham ran roundon the other side of the chair, kneeling too, and speaking with greatenergy. She clasped the Queen's hand on her side, and picked up thepaper her Majesty had let fall. The Prince rose and made a furtherspeech as though he would go; the favorite on the other hand urging hermistress, and then, running back to the Prince, brought him back oncemore close to the chair. Again he knelt down and took the Queen's hand,which she did not withdraw, kissing it a hundred times; my lady all thetime, with sobs and supplications, speaking over the chair. This whilethe Queen sat with a stupefied look, crumpling the paper with one hand,as my Prince embraced the other; then of a sudden she uttered severalpiercing shrieks, and burst into a great fit of hysteric tears andlaughter. 'Enough, enough, sir, for this time,' I heard Lady Mashamsay: and the chairman, who had withdrawn round the Banqueting-room, cameback, alarmed by the cries. 'Quick,' says Lady Masham, 'get some help,'and I ran towards the Doctor, who, with the Bishop of Rochester, came upinstantly. Lady Masham whispered the Prince he might hope for the verybest; and to be ready to-morrow; and he hath gone away to the Bishopof Rochester's house, to meet several of his friends there. And so thegreat stroke is struck," says Beatrix,
going down on her knees, andclasping her hands. "God save the King: God save the King!"

  Beatrix's tale told, and the young lady herself calmed somewhat ofher agitation, we asked with regard to the Prince, who was absent withBishop Atterbury, and were informed that 'twas likely he might remainabroad the whole day. Beatrix's three kinsfolk looked at one another atthis intelligence: 'twas clear the same thought was passing through theminds of all.

  But who should begin to break the news? Monsieur Baptiste, that is FrankCastlewood, turned very red, and looked towards Esmond; the Colonelbit his lips, and fairly beat a retreat into the window: it was LadyCastlewood that opened upon Beatrix with the news which we knew would doanything but please her.

  "We are glad," says she, taking her daughter's hand, and speaking in agentle voice, "that the guest is away."

  Beatrix drew back in an instant, looking round her at us three, andas if divining a danger. "Why glad?" says she, her breast beginning toheave; "are you so soon tired of him?"

  "We think one of us is devilishly too fond of him," cries out FrankCastlewood.

  "And which is it--you, my lord, or is it mamma, who is jealous becausehe drinks my health? or is it the head of the family" (here she turnedwith an imperious look towards Colonel Esmond), "who has taken of lateto preach the King sermons?"

  "We do not say you are too free with his Majesty."

  "I thank you, madam," says Beatrix, with a toss of the head and acurtsey.

  But her mother continued, with very great calmness and dignity--"Atleast we have not said so, though we might, were it possible for amother to say such words to her own daughter, your father's daughter."

  "Eh? mon pere," breaks out Beatrix, "was no better than other persons'fathers." And again she looked towards the Colonel.

  We all felt a shock as she uttered those two or three French words; hermanner was exactly imitated from that of our foreign guest.

  "You had not learned to speak French a month ago, Beatrix," says hermother, sadly, "nor to speak ill of your father."

  Beatrix, no doubt, saw that slip she had made in her flurry, for sheblushed crimson: "I have learnt to honor the King," says she, drawingup, "and 'twere as well that others suspected neither his Majesty norme."

  "If you respected your mother a little more," Frank said, "Trix, youwould do yourself no hurt."

  "I am no child," says she, turning round on him; "we have lived verywell these five years without the benefit of your advice or example, andI intend to take neither now. Why does not the head of the house speak?"she went on; "he rules everything here. When his chaplain has donesinging the psalms, will his lordship deliver the sermon? I am tired ofthe psalms." The Prince had used almost the very same words in regard toColonel Esmond that the imprudent girl repeated in her wrath.

  "You show yourself a very apt scholar, madam," says the Colonel;and, turning to his mistress, "Did your guest use these words in yourladyship's hearing, or was it to Beatrix in private that he was pleasedto impart his opinion regarding my tiresome sermon?"

  "Have you seen him alone?" cries my lord, starting up with an oath: "byGod, have you seen him alone?"

  "Were he here, you wouldn't dare so to insult me; no, you would notdare!" cries Frank's sister. "Keep your oaths, my lord, for your wife;we are not used here to such language. Till you came, there used to bekindness between me and mamma, and I cared for her when you never did,when you were away for years with your horses and your mistress, andyour Popish wife."

  "By ---," says my lord, rapping out another oath, "Clotilda is an angel;how dare you say a word against Clotilda?"

  Colonel Esmond could not refrain from a smile, to see how easy Frank'sattack was drawn off by that feint:--"I fancy Clotilda is not thesubject in hand," says Mr. Esmond, rather scornfully; "her ladyship isat Paris, a hundred leagues off, preparing baby-linen. It is about myLord Castlewood's sister, and not his wife, the question is."

  "He is not my Lord Castlewood," says Beatrix, "and he knows he is not;he is Colonel Francis Esmond's son, and no more, and he wears a falsetitle; and he lives on another man's land, and he knows it." Here wasanother desperate sally of the poor beleaguered garrison, and an alertein another quarter. "Again, I beg your pardon," says Esmond. "If thereare no proofs of my claim, I have no claim. If my father acknowledgedno heir, yours was his lawful successor, and my Lord Castlewood hathas good a right to his rank and small estate as any man in England. Butthat again is not the question, as you know very well; let us bring ourtalk back to it, as you will have me meddle in it. And I will giveyou frankly my opinion, that a house where a Prince lies all day, whorespects no woman, is no house for a young unmarried lady; that you werebetter in the country than here; that he is here on a great end, fromwhich no folly should divert him; and that having nobly done your partof this morning, Beatrix, you should retire off the scene awhile, andleave it to the other actors of the play."

  As the Colonel spoke with a perfect calmness and politeness, such as'tis to be hoped he hath always shown to women,* his mistress stood byhim on one side of the table, and Frank Castlewood on the other, hemmingin poor Beatrix, that was behind it, and, as it were, surrounding herwith our approaches.

  * My dear father saith quite truly, that his manner towards our sex was uniformly courteous. From my infancy upwards, he treated me with an extreme gentleness, as though I was a little lady. I can scarce remember (though I tried him often) ever hearing a rough word from him, nor was he less grave and kind in his manner to the humblest negresses on his estate. He was familiar with no one except my mother, and it was delightful to witness up to the very last days the confidence between them. He was obeyed eagerly by all under him; and my mother and all her household lived in a constant emulation to please him, and quite a terror lest in any way they should offend him. He was the humblest man with all this; the least exacting, the more easily contented; and Mr. Benson, our minister at Castlewood, who attended him at the last, ever said--"I know not what Colonel Esmond's doctrine was, but his life and death were those of a devout Christian."--R. E. W.

  Having twice sallied out and been beaten back, she now, as I expected,tried the ultima ratio of women, and had recourse to tears. Herbeautiful eyes filled with them; I never could bear in her, nor in anywoman, that expression of pain:--"I am alone," sobbed she; "you arethree against me--my brother, my mother, and you. What have I done, thatyou should speak and look so unkindly at me? Is it my fault that thePrince should, as you say, admire me? Did I bring him here? Did I doaught but what you bade me, in making him welcome? Did you not tell methat our duty was to die for him? Did you not teach me, mother, nightand morning to pray for the King, before even ourselves? What would youhave of me, cousin, for you are the chief of the conspiracy against me;I know you are, sir, and that my mother and brother are acting but asyou bid them; whither would you have me go?"

  "I would but remove from the Prince," says Esmond, gravely, "a dangeroustemptation; heaven forbid I should say you would yield; I would onlyhave him free of it. Your honor needs no guardian, please God, but hisimprudence doth. He is so far removed from all women by his rank, thathis pursuit of them cannot but be unlawful. We would remove the dearestand fairest of our family from the chance of that insult, and that iswhy we would have you go, dear Beatrix."

  "Harry speaks like a book," says Frank, with one of his oaths, "and, by---, every word he saith is true. You can't help being handsome, Trix;no more can the Prince help following you. My counsel is that you go outof harm's way; for, by the Lord, were the Prince to play any tricks withyou, King as he is, or is to be, Harry Esmond and I would have justiceof him."

  "Are not two such champions enough to guard me?" says Beatrix, somethingsorrowfully; "sure, with you two watching, no evil could happen to me."

  "In faith, I think not, Beatrix," says Colonel Esmond; "nor if thePrince knew us would he try."

  "But does he know you?" interposed Lady Castlewood, very quiet: "he
comes of a country where the pursuit of kings is thought no dishonorto a woman. Let us go, dearest Beatrix. Shall we go to Walcote or toCastlewood? We are best away from the city; and when the Prince isacknowledged, and our champions have restored him, and he hath his ownhouse at St. James's or Windsor, we can come back to ours here. Do younot think so, Harry and Frank?"

  Frank and Harry thought with her, you may be sure.

  "We will go, then," says Beatrix, turning a little pale; "Lady Masham isto give me warning to-night how her Majesty is, and to-morrow--"

  "I think we had best go to-day, my dear," says my Lady Castlewood; "wemight have the coach and sleep at Hounslow, and reach home to-morrow.'Tis twelve o'clock; bid the coach, cousin, be ready at one."

  "For shame!" burst out Beatrix, in a passion of tears and mortification."You disgrace me by your cruel precautions; my own mother is the firstto suspect me, and would take me away as my gaoler. I will not go withyou, mother; I will go as no one's prisoner. If I wanted to deceive, doyou think I could find no means of evading you? My family suspects me.As those mistrust me that ought to love me most, let me leave them; Iwill go, but I will go alone: to Castlewood, be it. I have been unhappythere and lonely enough; let me go back, but spare me at least thehumiliation of setting a watch over my misery, which is a trial I can'tbear. Let me go when you will, but alone, or not at all. You three canstay and triumph over my unhappiness, and I will bear it as I have borneit before. Let my gaoler-in-chief go order the coach that is to take meaway. I thank you, Henry Esmond, for your share in the conspiracy. Allmy life long I'll thank you, and remember you, and you, brother, andyou, mother, how shall I show my gratitude to you for your carefuldefence of my honor?"

  She swept out of the room with the air of an empress, flinging glancesof defiance at us all, and leaving us conquerors of the field, butscared, and almost ashamed of our victory. It did indeed seem hard andcruel that we three should have conspired the banishment and humiliationof that fair creature. We looked at each other in silence: 'twas not thefirst stroke by many of our actions in that unlucky time, which, beingdone, we wished undone. We agreed it was best she should go alone,speaking stealthily to one another, and under our breaths, like personsengaged in an act they felt ashamed in doing.

  In a half-hour, it might be, after our talk she came back, hercountenance wearing the same defiant air which it had borne whenshe left us. She held a shagreen-case in her hand; Esmond knew it ascontaining his diamonds which he had given to her for her marriage withDuke Hamilton, and which she had worn so splendidly on the inauspiciousnight of the Prince's arrival. "I have brought back," says she, "tothe Marquis of Esmond the present he deigned to make me in days when hetrusted me better than now. I will never accept a benefit or a kindnessfrom Henry Esmond more, and I give back these family diamonds, whichbelonged to one king's mistress, to the gentleman that suspected I wouldbe another. Have you been upon your message of coach-caller, my LordMarquis? Will you send your valet to see that I do not run away?" Wewere right, yet, by her manner, she had put us all in the wrong; wewere conquerors, yet the honors of the day seemed to be with the pooroppressed girl.

  That luckless box containing the stones had first been ornamented witha baron's coronet, when Beatrix was engaged to the young gentleman fromwhom she parted, and afterwards the gilt crown of a duchess figuredon the cover, which also poor Beatrix was destined never to wear. LadyCastlewood opened the case mechanically and scarce thinking what shedid; and behold, besides the diamonds, Esmond's present, there lay inthe box the enamelled miniature of the late Duke, which Beatrix had laidaside with her mourning when the King came into the house; and which thepoor heedless thing very likely had forgotten.

  "Do you leave this, too, Beatrix?" says her mother, taking the miniatureout, and with a cruelty she did not very often show; but there are somemoments when the tenderest women are cruel, and some triumphs whichangels can't forego.*

  * This remark shows how unjustly and contemptuously even the best of men will sometimes judge of our sex. Lady Castlewood had no intention of triumphing over her daughter; but from a sense of duty alone pointed out her deplorable wrong.--H. E.

  Having delivered this stab, Lady Castlewood was frightened at the effectof her blow. It went to poor Beatrix's heart: she flushed up and passeda handkerchief across her eyes, and kissed the miniature, and put itinto her bosom:--"I had forgot it," says she; "my injury made me forgetmy grief: my mother has recalled both to me. Farewell, mother; I think Inever can forgive you; something hath broke between us that no tearsnor years can repair. I always said I was alone; you never loved me,never--and were jealous of me from the time I sat on my father's knee.Let me go away, the sooner the better: I can bear to be with you nomore."

  "Go, child," says her mother, still very stern; "go and bend yourproud knees and ask forgiveness; go, pray in solitude for humility andrepentance. 'Tis not your reproaches that make me unhappy, 'tis yourhard heart, my poor Beatrix; may God soften it, and teach you one day tofeel for your mother."

  If my mistress was cruel, at least she never could be got to own asmuch. Her haughtiness quite overtopped Beatrix's; and, if the girl had aproud spirit, I very much fear it came to her by inheritance.