more delighted nor more gracious than she. Esmond had his quarters in
her ladyship's house, where the domestics were instructed to consider
him as their master. She bade him give entertainments, of which she
defrayed the charges, and was charmed when his guests were carried away
tipsy in their coaches. She must have his picture taken; and accordingly
he was painted by Mr. Jervas, in his red coat, and smiling upon a
bomb-shell, which was bursting at the corner of the piece. She vowed
that unless he made a great match, she should never die easy, and was
for ever bringing young ladies to Chelsey, with pretty faces and pretty
fortunes, at the disposal of the Colonel. He smiled to think how times
were altered with him, and of the early days in his father's lifetime,
when a trembling page he stood before her, with her ladyship's basin and
ewer, or crouched in her coach-step. The only fault she found with
him was, that he was more sober than an Esmond ought to be; and would
neither be carried to bed by his valet, nor lose his heart to any
beauty, whether of St. James's or Covent Garden.

What is the meaning of fidelity in love, and whence the birth of it?
'Tis a state of mind that men fall into, and depending on the man rather
than the woman. We love being in love, that's the truth on't. If we
had not met Joan, we should have met Kate, and adored her. We know our
mistresses are no better than many other women, nor no prettier, nor no
wiser, nor no wittier. 'Tis not for these reasons we love a woman, or
for any special quality or charm I know of; we might as well demand that
a lady should be the tallest woman in the world, like the Shropshire
giantess,* as that she should be a paragon in any other character,
before we began to love her. Esmond's mistress had a thousand faults
beside her charms; he knew both perfectly well! She was imperious, she
was light-minded, she was flighty, she was false, she had no reverence
in her character; she was in everything, even in beauty, the contrast
of her mother, who was the most devoted and the least selfish of women.
Well, from the very first moment he saw her on the stairs at Walcote,
Esmond knew he loved Beatrix. There might be better women--he wanted
that one. He cared for none other. Was it because she was gloriously
beautiful? Beautiful as she was, he had heard people say a score of
times in their company that Beatrix's mother looked as young, and was
the handsomer of the two. Why did