us and jealous already.

"Nonsense, my lord," says Beatrix, with a toss of her head. My Lady
Viscountess looked up for a moment at Esmond, and cast her eyes down.

"The Marchioness of Blandford," says Frank. "Don't you know--hath not
Rouge Dragon told you?" (My lord used to call the Dowager of Chelsey by
this and other names.) "Blandford has a lock of her hair: the Duchess
found him on his knees to Mistress Trix, and boxed his ears, and said
Dr. Hare should whip him."

"I wish Mr. Tusher would whip you too," says Beatrix.

My lady only said: "I hope you will tell none of these silly stories
elsewhere than at home, Francis."

"'Tis true, on my word," continues Frank: "look at Harry scowling,
mother, and see how Beatrix blushes as red as the silver-clocked
stockings."

"I think we had best leave the gentlemen to their wine and their talk,"
says Mistress Beatrix, rising up with the air of a young queen, tossing
her rustling flowing draperies about her, and quitting the room,
followed by her mother.

Lady Castlewood again looked at Esmond, as she stooped down and kissed
Frank. "Do not tell those silly stories, child," she said: "do not drink
much wine, sir; Harry never loved to drink wine." And she went away,
too, in her black robes, looking back on the young man with her fair,
fond face.

"Egad! it's true," says Frank, sipping his wine with the air of a lord.
"What think you of this Lisbon--real Collares? 'Tis better than your
heady port: we got it out of one of the Spanish ships that came from
Vigo last year: my mother bought it at Southampton, as the ship was
lying there--the 'Rose,' Captain Hawkins."

"Why, I came home in that ship," says Harry.

"And it brought home a good fellow and good wine," says my lord. "I say,
Harry, I wish thou hadst not that cursed bar sinister."

"And why not the bar sinister?" asks the other.

"Suppose I go to the army and am killed--every gentleman goes to the
army--who is to take care of the women? Trix will never stop at home;
mother's in love with you,--yes, I think mother's in love with you. She
was always praising you, and always talking about you; and when she
went to Southampton, to see the ship, I found her out. But you see it is
impossible: we are of the oldest blood in England; we came in with the
Conqueror; we were only baronets,--but what then? we were forced into
that. James the First forced our great grandfather. We are above titles;
we old English gentry don't