rehension, as she did her charities and devotion.
'Twas only by chance that Esmond, wandering in Kensington, found his
mistress coming out of a mean cottage there, and heard that she had
a score of poor retainers, whom she visited and comforted in their
sickness and poverty, and who blessed her daily. She attended the
early church daily (though of a Sunday, especially, she encouraged and
advanced all sorts of cheerfulness and innocent gayety in her little
household): and by notes entered into a table-book of hers at this time,
and devotional compositions writ with a sweet artless fervor, such as
the best divines could not surpass, showed how fond her heart was, how
humble and pious her spirit, what pangs of apprehension she endured
silently, and with what a faithful reliance she committed the care of
those she loved to the awful Dispenser of death and life.

* What indeed? Psm. xci. 2, 3, 7.--R. E.

As for her ladyship at Chelsey, Esmond's newly adopted mother, she was
now of an age when the danger of any second party doth not disturb the
rest much. She cared for trumps more than for most things in life. She
was firm enough in her own faith, but no longer very bitter against
ours. She had a very good-natured, easy French director, Monsieur
Gauthier by name, who was a gentleman of the world, and would take a
hand of cards with Dean Atterbury, my lady's neighbor at Chelsey, and
was well with all the High Church party. No doubt Monsieur Gauthier knew
what Esmond's peculiar position was, for he corresponded with Holt, and
always treated Colonel Esmond with particular respect and kindness; but
for good reasons the Colonel and the Abbe never spoke on this matter
together, and so they remained perfect good friends.

All the frequenters of my Lady of Chelsey's house were of the Tory and
High Church party. Madame Beatrix was as frantic about the King as her
elderly kinswoman: she wore his picture on her heart; she had a piece
of his hair; she vowed he was the most injured, and gallant, and
accomplished, and unfortunate, and beautiful of princes. Steele, who
quarrelled with very many of his Tory friends, but never with Esmond,
used to tell the Colonel that his kinswoman's house was a rendezvous of
Tory intrigues; that Gauthier was a spy; that Atterbury was a spy;
that letters were constantly going from that house to the Queen at St.
Germains; on which Esmond, laughing, would reply, that they used to
say in the army the Du