romised to present him to that most charming of actresses, and lively
and agreeable of women, Mrs. Bracegirdle, about whom Harry's old adversary
Mohun had drawn swords, a few years before my poor lord and he fell out.
The famous Mr. Congreve had stamped with his high approval, to the which
there was no gainsaying, this delightful person: and she was acting in
Dick Steele's comedies, and finally, and for twenty-four hours after
beholding her, Mr. Esmond felt himself, or thought himself, to be as
violently enamoured of this lovely brunette, as were a thousand other
young fellows about the city. To have once seen her was to long to behold
her again; and to be offered the delightful privilege of her acquaintance,
was a pleasure the very idea of which set the young lieutenant's heart on
fire. A man cannot live with comrades under the tents without finding out
that he too is five-and-twenty. A young fellow cannot be cast down by
grief and misfortune ever so severe but some night he begins to sleep
sound, and some day when dinner-time comes to feel hungry for a beefsteak.
Time, youth, and good health, new scenes and the excitement of action and
a campaign, had pretty well brought Esmond's mourning to an end; and his
comrades said that Don Dismal, as they called him, was Don Dismal no more.
So when a party was made to dine at the "Rose", and go to the playhouse
afterward, Esmond was as pleased as another to take his share of the
bottle and the play.

How was it that the old aunt's news, or it might be scandal, about Tom
Tusher, caused such a strange and sudden excitement in Tom's old
playfellow? Hadn't he sworn a thousand times in his own mind that the lady
of Castlewood, who had treated him with such kindness once, and then had
left him so cruelly, was, and was to remain henceforth, indifferent to him
for ever? Had his pride and his sense of justice not long since helped him
to cure the pain of that desertion--was it even a pain to him now? Why, but
last night as he walked across the fields and meadows to Chelsey from Pall
Mall, had he not composed two or three stanzas of a song, celebrating
Bracegirdle's brown eyes, and declaring them a thousand times more
beautiful than the brightest blue ones that ever languished under the
lashes of an insipid fair beauty! But Tom Tusher! Tom Tusher, the
waiting-woman's son, raising up his little eyes to his mistress! Tom
Tusher presuming to think of Castlewood's widow! Rage and contempt fill