d assumed a
touch-me-not air, which all her friends very good-humoredly bowed to.

An old army acquaintance of Colonel Esmond's, honest Tom Trett, who had
sold his company, married a wife, and turned merchant in the city, was
dreadfully gloomy for a long time, though living in a fine house on the
river, and carrying on a great trade to all appearance. At length Esmond
saw his friend's name in the Gazette as a bankrupt; and a week after
this circumstance my bankrupt walks into Mr. Esmond's lodging with a
face perfectly radiant with good-humor, and as jolly and careless as
when they had sailed from Southampton ten years before for Vigo. "This
bankruptcy," says Tom, "has been hanging over my head these three
years; the thought hath prevented my sleeping, and I have looked at poor
Polly's head on t'other pillow, and then towards my razor on the table,
and thought to put an end to myself, and so give my woes the slip. But
now we are bankrupts: Tom Trett pays as many shillings in the pound as
he can; his wife has a little cottage at Fulham, and her fortune secured
to herself. I am afraid neither of bailiff nor of creditor: and for the
last six nights have slept easy." So it was that when Fortune shook her
wings and left him, honest Tom cuddled himself up in his ragged virtue,
and fell asleep.

Esmond did not tell his friend how much his story applied to Esmond too;
but he laughed at it, and used it; and having fairly struck his docket
in this love transaction, determined to put a cheerful face on his
bankruptcy. Perhaps Beatrix was a little offended at his gayety.
"Is this the way, sir, that you receive the announcement of your
misfortune," says she, "and do you come smiling before me as if you were
glad to be rid of me?"

Esmond would not be put off from his good-humor, but told her the story
of Tom Trett and his bankruptcy. "I have been hankering after the grapes
on the wall," says he, "and lost my temper because they were beyond my
reach; was there any wonder? They're gone now, and another has them--a
taller man than your humble servant has won them." And the Colonel made
his cousin a low bow.

"A taller man, Cousin Esmond!" says she. "A man of spirit would have
sealed the wall, sir, and seized them! A man of courage would have
fought for 'em, not gaped for 'em."

"A Duke has but to gape and they drop into his mouth," says Esmond, with
another low bow.

"Yes, sir," says she, "a Duke IS a taller man than you. And why