folks he appeared to exact, or, at any rate, to occasion, the same
behaviour. His nature was above levity and jokes: they seemed out of
place when addressed to him. He was slow of comprehending them: and they
slunk as it were abashed out of his society. "He always seemed great to
me," says Harry Warrington, in one of his letters many years after the
date of which we are writing; "and I never thought of him otherwise than
as a hero. When he came over to Castlewood and taught us boys surveying,
to see him riding to hounds was as if he was charging an army. If he
fired a shot, I thought the bird must come down, and if he flung a net,
the largest fish in the river were sure to be in it. His words were
always few, but they were always wise; they were not idle, as our words
are; they were grave, sober and strong, and ready on occasion to do their
duty. In spite of his antipathy to him, my brother respected and admired
the General as much as I did--that is to say, more than any mortal man."

Mr. Washington was the first to leave the jovial party which were doing
so much honour to Madame Esmond's hospitality. Young George Esmond, who
had taken his mother's place when she left the dining-room, had been free
with the glass and with the tongue. He had said a score of things to his
guest which wounded and chafed the latter, and to which Mr. Washington
could give no reply. Angry beyond all endurance, he left the table at
length, and walked away through the open windows into the broad veranda
or porch which belonged to Castlewood as to all Virginian houses.

Here Madame Esmond caught sight of her friend's tall frame as it strode
up and down before the windows; and gave up her cards to one of the other
ladies, and joined her good neighbour out of doors. He tried to compose
his countenance as well as he could, but found it so difficult that
presently she asked, "Why do you look so grave?"

"Indeed, to be frank with you, I do not know what has come over George,"
says Mr. Washington. "He has some grievance against me which I do not
understand, and of which I don't care to ask the reason. He spoke to me
before the gentlemen in a way which scarcely became him. We are going to
the campaign together, and 'tis a pity we begin such ill friends."

"He has been ill. He is always wild and wayward and hard to understand,
but he has the most affectionate heart in the world. You will bear with
him, you will protect him. Promise you will."

"Dear