n: and the world knows what a saint you are."

My Lord Mohun was separated from his wife, and had had many affairs of
honor: of which women as usual had been the cause.

"I am no saint, though your wife is--and I can answer for my actions as
other people must for their words," said my Lord Mohun.

"By G--, my lord, you shall," cried the other, starting up.

"We have another little account to settle first, my lord," says Lord
Mohun. Whereupon Harry Esmond, filled with alarm for the consequences
to which this disastrous dispute might lead, broke out into the most
vehement expostulations with his patron and his adversary. "Gracious
heavens!" he said, "my lord, are you going to draw a sword upon your
friend in your own house? Can you doubt the honor of a lady who is as
pure as heaven, and would die a thousand times rather than do you a
wrong? Are the idle words of a jealous child to set friends at variance?
Has not my mistress, as much as she dared do, besought your lordship, as
the truth must be told, to break your intimacy with my Lord Mohun; and
to give up the habit which may bring ruin on your family? But for my
Lord Mohun's illness, had he not left you?"

"'Faith, Frank, a man with a gouty toe can't run after other men's
wives," broke out my Lord Mohun, who indeed was in that way, and with
a laugh and a look at his swathed limb so frank and comical, that the
other dashing his fist across his forehead was caught by that infectious
good-humor, and said with his oath, "---- it, Harry, I believe thee,"
and so this quarrel was over, and the two gentlemen, at swords drawn but
just now, dropped their points, and shook hands.

Beati pacifici. "Go, bring my lady back," said Harry's patron. Esmond
went away only too glad to be the bearer of such good news. He found her
at the door; she had been listening there, but went back as he came. She
took both his hands, hers were marble cold. She seemed as if she would
fall on his shoulder. "Thank you, and God bless you, my dear brother
Harry," she said. She kissed his hand, Esmond felt her tears upon it:
and leading her into the room, and up to my lord, the Lord Castlewood,
with an outbreak of feeling and affection such as he had not exhibited
for many a long day, took his wife to his heart, and bent over and
kissed her and asked her pardon.

"'Tis time for me to go to roost. I will have my gruel a-bed," said my
Lord Mohun: and limped off comically on Harry Esmond's arm. "By Georg