sin 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 comes 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 of 2,000L. among her six nieces, the
Dean's daughters; and many a time since has Harry Esmond recalled the
flushed face and eager look wherewith, after this intelligence, his kind
lady regarded him. She did not pretend to any grief about the deceased
relative, from whom she and her family had been many years parted.

When my lord heard of the news, he also did not make any very long
face. "The money will come very handy to furnish the music-room and the
cellar, which is getting low, and buy your ladyship a coach and a
couple of horses that will do indifferent to ride or for the coach. 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," says my lady, turning very red.

"Another use, my dear; and what do you know about money?" cries my lord.
"And what the devil is there that I don't give you which you want!"

"I intend to give this money--can't you fancy how, my lord?"

My lord swore one of his large oaths that he did not know in the least
what she meant.

"I intend it for Harry Esmond to go to college. Cousin Harry," says my
lady, "you mustn't stay longer in this dull place, but make a name to
yourself, and for us too, Harry."

"D--n it, Harry's well enough here," says my lord, for a moment looking
rather sulky.

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

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

"By G-d, Rachel, you're a good woman!" says my lord, seizing my lady's
hand, at which she blushed very much, and shrank back, putting her
children before her. "I wish you joy