pparition, whose beauty and kindness so moved him when
he first beheld her, became soon a passion of gratitude, which entirely
filled his young heart. There seemed, as the boy thought, in her every
look or gesture, an angelic softness and bright pity. In motion or repose
she seemed gracious alike; the tone of her voice, though she spoke words
ever so trivial, gave him a pleasure that amounted almost to pain. It
could not be called love, that a lad of his age felt for his mistress:
but it was worship. To catch her glance, to divine her errand and run on
it before she had spoken it; to watch, follow, adore her, became the
business of his life.

As for my Lord Castlewood, he was good-humoured, of a temper naturally
easy, liking to joke, especially with his inferiors, and charmed to
receive the tribute of their laughter. All exercises of the body he could
perform to perfection--shooting at a mark, breaking horses, riding at the
ring, pitching the quoit, playing at all games with great skill. He was
fond of the parade of dress, and also fond of having his lady well
dressed; who spared no pains in that matter to please him. Indeed, she
would dress her head or cut it off if he had bidden her.

My Lord Viscount took young Esmond into his special favour, luckily for
the lad. A very few months after my lord's coming to Castlewood in the
winter time, little Frank being a child in petticoats, trotting about, it
happened that little Frank was with his father after dinner, who fell
asleep, heedless of the child, who crawled to the fire. As good fortune
would have it, Esmond was sent by his mistress for the boy, just as the
poor little screaming urchin's coat was set on fire by a log. Esmond,
rushing forward, tore the dress off, so that his own hands were burned
more than the little boy's, who was frightened rather than hurt by the
accident. As my lord was sleeping heavily, it certainly was providential
that a resolute person should have come in at that instant, or the child
would have been burned to death.

Ever after this, the father was loud in his expressions of remorse, and
of admiration for Harry Esmond, and had the tenderest regard for his
son's preserver. His burns were tended with the greatest care by his kind
mistress, who said that Heaven had sent him to be the guardian of her
children, and that she would love him all her life.

And it was after this, and from the very great love and tenderness which
grew up in this litt