h, you stupid child!" says Miss, smothering her brother with kisses;
and then she must come and kiss her mamma, looking all the while at
Harry, over his mistress's shoulder. And if she did not kiss him, she
gave him both her hands, and then took one of his in both hands, and
said, "Oh, Harry, we're so, SO glad you're come!"

"There are woodcocks for supper," says my lord. "Huzzay! It was such a
hungry sermon."

"And it is the 29th of December; and our Harry has come home."

"Huzzay, old Pincot!" again says my lord; and my dear lady's lips looked
as if they were trembling with a prayer. She would have Harry lead in
Beatrix to the supper-room, going herself with my young Lord Viscount;
and to this party came Tom Tusher directly, whom four at least out of
the company of five wished away. Away he went, however, as soon as the
sweetmeats were put down, and then, by the great crackling fire, his
mistress or Beatrix, with her blushing graces, filling his glass
for him, Harry told the story of his campaign, and passed the most
delightful night his life had ever known. The sun was up long ere he
was, so deep, sweet, and refreshing was his slumber. He woke as if
angels had been watching at his bed all night. I dare say one that was
as pure and loving as an angel had blessed his sleep with her prayers.

Next morning the chaplain read prayers to the little household at
Walcote, as the custom was; Esmond thought Mistress Beatrix did not
listen to Tusher's exhortation much: her eyes were wandering everywhere
during the service, at least whenever he looked up he met them. Perhaps
he also was not very attentive to his Reverence the Chaplain. "This
might have been my life," he was thinking; "this might have been my duty
from now till old age. Well, were it not a pleasant one to be with these
dear friends and part from 'em no more? Until--until the destined lover
comes and takes away pretty Beatrix"--and the best part of Tom Tusher's
exposition, which may have been very learned and eloquent, was quite
lost to poor Harry by this vision of the destined lover, who put the
preacher out.

All the while of the prayers, Beatrix knelt a little way before Harry
Esmond. The red stockings were changed for a pair of gray, and black
shoes, in which her feet looked to the full as pretty. All the roses
of spring could not vie with the brightness of her complexion; Esmond
thought he had never seen anything like the sunny lustre of her eyes. My
Lady