his songs and fun. He
took on dreadful at the news, but he's got better on the voyage; and, in
course, the young gentleman can't be for ever a-crying after a brother
who dies and leaves him a great fortune. Ever since we sighted Ireland
he has been quite gay and happy, only he would go off at times, when he
was most merry, saying, 'I wish my dearest Georgie could enjoy this here
sight along with me,' and when you mentioned t'other's name, you see, he
couldn't stand it."

Again and again Harry Warrington and his brother had poured over the
English map, and determined upon the course which they should take upon
arriving at Home. The sacred point in their pilgrimage was that old
Castlewood in Hampshire, the home of their family, whence had come their
grandparents. From Bristol to Bath, to Salisbury, to Winchester, to
_Home_; they had mapped the journey many and many a time. Without
stopping in Bristol, Harry Warrington was whirled away in a postchaise
and at last drew up at the rustic inn on Castlewood Green. Then with a
beating heart he walked towards the house where his grandsire Colonel
Esmond's youth had been passed.

The family was away, and the housekeeper was busy getting ready for my
lord and my lady who were expected that evening. Harry wrote down his
name on a paper from his own pocket and laid it on a table in the hall;
and then walked away, not caring to own how disappointed he was. No one
had known him. Had any of his relatives ridden up to his house in
Virginia, whether the master were present or absent, the guests would
have been made welcome. Harry felt terribly alone. The inn folks did not
know the name of Warrington. They told him before he went to bed that my
lord Castlewood and his sister Lady Maria, and their stepmother the
Countess, and her son Mr. William, had arrived at the Castle, and two
hours later the Baroness Bernstein, my lord's aunt. Harry remembered
that the Baroness Bernstein was his mother's half-sister, for Colonel
Esmond's wife was the mother of Beatrice Bernstein who had married a
German baron, after marrying Bishop Tusher.

The Castlewoods were for letting their young American kinsman stay at
his inn, but Madam Bernstein, of whom all the family stood in awe, at
once insisted that Harry Warrington should be sent for, and on his
arrival made much of him. As for the boy, he felt very grateful towards
the lady who had received him so warmly.

Within six months Harry had fallen in love