akfast, and when he went up to his chamber afterwards she presently
followed him, and knocked at his door.

As she entered, no doubt the whole story was clear to her at once, for she
found our young gentleman packing his valise, pursuant to the resolution
which he had come to over-night of making a brisk retreat out of this
temptation.

She closed the door very carefully behind her, and then leant against it,
very pale, her hands folded before her, looking at the young man, who was
kneeling over his work of packing. "Are you going so soon?" she said.

He rose up from his knees, blushing, perhaps, to be so discovered, in the
very act, as it were, and took one of her fair little hands--it was that
which had her marriage ring on--and kissed it.

"It is best that it should be so, dearest lady," he said.

"I knew you were going, at breakfast. I--I thought you might stay. What has
happened? Why can't you remain longer with us? What has Frank told you--you
were talking together late last night?"

"I had but three days' leave from Chelsea," Esmond said, as gaily as he
could. "My aunt--she lets me call her aunt--is my mistress now; I owe her my
lieutenancy and my laced coat. She has taken me into high favour; and my
new general is to dine at Chelsea to-morrow--General Lumley, madam--who has
appointed me his aide de camp, and on whom I must have the honour of
waiting. See, here is a letter from the dowager; the post brought it last
night; and I would not speak of it, for fear of disturbing our last merry
meeting."

My lady glanced at the letter, and put it down with a smile that was
somewhat contemptuous. "I have no need to read the letter," says
she--(indeed, 'twas as well she did not; for the Chelsea missive, in the
poor dowager's usual French jargon, permitted him a longer holiday than he
said. "_Je vous donne_," quoth her ladyship, "_oui jour, pour vous fatigay
parfaictement de vos parens fatigans_")--"I have no need to read the
letter," says she. "What was it Frank told you last night?"

"He told me little I did not know," Mr. Esmond answered. "But I have
thought of that little, and here's the result; I have no right to the name
I bear, dear lady; and it is only by your sufferance that I am allowed to
keep it. If I thought for an hour of what has perhaps crossed your mind
too----"

"Yes, I did, Harry," said she; "I thought of it; and think of it. I would
sooner call you my son than the greatest prince in Europe--yes