she called them), she never allowed them outwardly to appear, but
hid her apprehension 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 gaiety 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 fervour, 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.

As for her ladyship at Chelsea, 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 neighbour at Chelsea, 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 Chelsea'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 us