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"Thank you, Esmond, you are a capital fellow, now let me let me. It isn't half what a picture of her would be worth." Here Frederick thrust a bank-note into his friend's hand, blushing like a girl. "Thank you," said Esmond, gently, "my father is so ill, for his sake the picture shall be my first work."
My lady's countenance, of which Harry Esmond was accustomed to watch the changes, and with a solicitous affection to note and interpret the signs of gladness or care, wore a sad and depressed look for many weeks after her lord's return: during which it seemed as if, by caresses and entreaties, she strove to win him back from some ill humor he had, and which he did not choose to throw off.
But in Pendennis, in Esmond, and in The Newcomes, it appears as it does nowhere else in English, or in any literature. It is not so much the holding up of the mirror to life as the presentation of life itself.
Museau dead, Madam Esmond argued with much eagerness, and not a little rancour, the bargain fell to the ground, and her son was free. The man was a rogue in the first instance. She would not pay the wages of iniquity. Mr. Esmond had a small independence from his father, and might squander his patrimony if he chose.
And very soon after this affair Harry Esmond and his General left the camp for London; whither a certain reputation had preceded the Captain, for my Lady Castlewood of Chelsey received him as if he had been a conquering hero. She gave a great dinner to Mr.
Once, when Prince Eugene was wounded, our Duke took his Highness's place in the trenches; but the siege was with the Imperialists, not with us. A division under Webb and Rantzau was detached into Artois and Picardy upon the most painful and odious service that Mr. Esmond ever saw in the course of his military life.
And our Grandmother used to tell us children, that on his first presentation to my Lord duke, the Duke turned his back upon my Grandfather; and said to the Duchess, who told my lady dowager at Chelsey, who afterwards told Colonel Esmond "Tom Esmond's bastard has been to my levee: he has the hang-dog look of his rogue of a father" an expression which my Grandfather never forgave.
He must not have it known that the book was lost. A pretty condition of mind Lady Maria Esmond would be in, if she knew that the outpourings of her heart were in the hands of the public! The letters contained all sorts of disclosures: a hundred family secrets were narrated by the artless correspondent: there were ever so much satire and abuse of persons with whom she and Mr.
Then Uncle Esmond spoke lower and I could not hear any more. Pretty soon Mat and Beverly burst open the door and came dancing in together, the sweet air of the warm April evening coming in with them, and life grew rose-colored for me in a moment. "We are all going to Santa Fé over the long trail. Every last gun of us.
'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. * What indeed? Psm. xci. 2, 3, 7.
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