I wish I had put by the money for thee, my
poor portionless child--three hundred and eighty guineas of ready money
to Messieurs Hatchett!"

"You will give me plenty while you live, and George will give me plenty
when you die," says Harry, gaily.

"Not unless he changes in spirit, my dear," says the lady, with a
grim glance at her elder boy. "Not unless Heaven softens his heart and
teaches him charity, for which I pray day and night; as Mountain knows;
do you not, Mountain?"

Mrs. Mountain, Ensign Mountain's widow, Madam Esmond's companion and
manager, who took the fourth seat in the family coach on these Sundays,
said, "Humph! I know you are always disturbing yourself and crying out
about this legacy, and I don't see that there is any need."

"Oh no! no need!" cries the widow, rustling in her silks; "of course I
have no need to be disturbed, because my eldest born is a disobedient
son and an unkind brother--because he has an estate, and my poor Harry,
bless him, but a mess of pottage."

George looked despairingly at his mother until he could see her no more
for eyes welled up with tears. "I wish you would bless me, too, O my
mother!" he said, and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. Harry's
arms were in a moment round his brother's neck, and he kissed George a
score of times.

"Never mind, George. I know whether you are a good brother or not. Don't
mind what she says. She don't mean it."

"I do mean it, child," cries the mother. Would to Heaven----"

"HOLD YOUR TONGUE, I SAY" roars out Harry. "It's a shame to speak so to
him, ma'am."

"And so it is, Harry," says Mrs. Mountain, shaking his hand. "You never
said a truer word in your life."

"Mrs. Mountain, do you dare to set my children against me?" cries the
widow. "From this very day, madam----"

"Turn me and my child into the street? Do," says Mrs. Mountain. "That
will be a fine revenge because the English lawyer won't give you the
boy's money. Find another companion who will tell you black is white,
and flatter you: it is not my way, madam. When shall I go? I shan't be
long a-packing. I did not bring much into Castlewood House, and I shall
not take much out."

"Hush! the bells are ringing for church, Mountain. Let us try, if you
please, and compose ourselves," said the widow, and she looked with eyes
of extreme affection, certainly at one--perhap at both--of her children.
George kept his head down, and Harry, who was near, got quite close to
him du