He kissed and kept her fair
hand, as they talked together.
"Why," says he, "should she hear me? She knows what I would say. Far or
near, she knows I'm her slave. I have sold myself for nothing, it may be.
Well, 'tis the price I choose to take. I am worth nothing, or I am worth
all."
"You are such a treasure," Esmond's mistress was pleased to say, "that the
woman who has your love, shouldn't change it away against a kingdom, I
think. I am a country-bred woman, and cannot say but the ambitions of the
town seem mean to me. I never was awe-stricken by my lady duchess's rank
and finery, or afraid," she added, with a sly laugh, "of anything but her
temper. I hear of Court ladies who pine because her Majesty looks cold on
them; and great noblemen who would give a limb that they might wear a
garter on the other. This worldliness, which I can't comprehend, was born
with Beatrix, who, on the first day of her waiting, was a perfect
courtier. We are like sisters, and she the eldest sister, somehow. She
tells me I have a mean spirit. I laugh, and say she adores a
coach-and-six. I cannot reason her out of her ambition. 'Tis natural to
her, as to me to love quiet, and be indifferent about rank and riches.
What are they, Harry? and for how long do they last? Our home is not
here." She smiled as she spoke, and looked like an angel that was only on
earth on a visit. "Our home is where the just are, and where our sins and
sorrows enter not. My father used to rebuke me, and say that I was too
hopeful about Heaven. But I cannot help my nature, and grow obstinate as I
grow to be an old woman; and as I love my children so, sure our Father
loves us with a thousand and a thousand times greater love. It must be
that we shall meet yonder, and be happy. Yes, you--and my children, and my
dear lord. Do you know, Harry, since his death, it has always seemed to me
as if his love came back to me, and that we are parted no more. Perhaps he
is here now, Harry--I think he is. Forgiven I am sure he is: even Mr.
Atterbury absolved him, and he died forgiving. Oh, what a noble heart he
had! How generous he was! I was but fifteen, and a child when he married
me. How good he was to stoop to me! He was always good to the poor and
humble." She stopped, then presently, with a peculiar expression, as if
her eyes were looking into Heaven, and saw my lord there, she smiled, and
gave a little laugh. "I laugh to see you, sir," she says; "when you come,
it seems as
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