Henry Esmond; The English Humourists; The Four Georges

by William Makepeace Thackeray

  Chapter X. We Entertain A Very Distinguished Guest At Kensington

  Should any clue be found to the dark intrigues at the latter end of QueenAnne's time, or any historian be inclined to follow it, 'twill bediscovered, I have little doubt, that not one of the great personagesabout the queen had a defined scheme of policy, independent of thatprivate and selfish interest which each was bent on pursuing; St. John wasfor St. John, and Harley for Oxford, and Marlborough for John Churchill,always; and according as they could get help from St. Germains or Hanover,they sent over proffers of allegiance to the princes there, or betrayedone to the other: one cause, or one sovereign, was as good as another tothem, so that they could hold the best place under him; and like Lockitand Peachem, the Newgate chiefs in the _Rogues' Opera_ Mr. Gay wroteafterwards, had each in his hand documents and proofs of treason whichwould hang the other, only he did not dare to use the weapon, for fear ofthat one which his neighbour also carried in his pocket. Think of thegreat Marlborough, the greatest subject in all the world, a conqueror ofprinces, that had marched victorious over Germany, Flanders, and France,that had given the law to sovereigns abroad, and been worshipped as adivinity at home, forced to sneak out of England--his credit, honours,places, all taken from him; his friends in the army broke and ruined; andflying before Harley, as abject and powerless as a poor debtor before abailiff with a writ. A paper, of which Harley got possession, and showingbeyond doubt that the duke was engaged with the Stuart family, was theweapon with which the treasurer drove Marlborough out of the kingdom. Hefled to Antwerp, and began intriguing instantly on the other side, andcame back to England, as all know, a Whig and a Hanoverian.

  Though the treasurer turned out of the army and office every man, militaryor civil, known to be the duke's friend, and gave the vacant posts amongthe Tory party; he, too, was playing the double game between Hanover andSt. Germains, awaiting the expected catastrophe of the queen's death to bemaster of the state, and offer it to either family that should bribe himbest, or that the nation should declare for. Whichever the king was,Harley's object was to reign over him; and to this end he supplanted theformer famous favourite, decried the actions of the war which had madeMarlborough's name illustrious, and disdained no more than the greatfallen competitor of his, the meanest arts, flatteries, intimidations,that would secure his power. If the greatest satirist the world ever hathseen had writ against Harley, and not for him, what a history had he leftbehind of the last years of Queen Anne's reign! But Swift, that scornedall mankind, and himself not the least of all, had this merit of afaithful partisan, that he loved those chiefs who treated him well, andstuck by Harley bravely in his fall, as he gallantly had supported him inhis better fortune.

  Incomparably more brilliant, more splendid, eloquent, accomplished, thanhis rival, the great St. John could be as selfish as Oxford was, and couldact the double part as skilfully as ambidextrous Churchill. He whose talkwas always of liberty, no more shrunk from using persecution and thepillory against his opponents, than if he had been at Lisbon and GrandInquisitor. This lofty patriot was on his knees at Hanover and St.Germains too; notoriously of no religion, he toasted Church and queen asboldly as the stupid Sacheverel, whom he used and laughed at; and to servehis turn, and to overthrow his enemy, he could intrigue, coax, bully,wheedle, fawn on the Court favourite, and creep up the back-stair assilently as Oxford who supplanted Marlborough, and whom he himselfsupplanted. The crash of my Lord Oxford happened at this very time whereatmy history is now arrived. He was come to the very last days of his power,and the agent whom he employed to overthrow the conqueror of Blenheim, wasnow engaged to upset the conqueror's conqueror, and hand over the staff ofgovernment to Bolingbroke, who had been panting to hold it.

  In expectation of the stroke that was now preparing, the Irish regimentsin the French service were all brought round about Boulogne in Picardy, topass over if need were with the Duke of Berwick; the soldiers of France nolonger, but subjects of James the Third of England and Ireland King. Thefidelity of the great mass of the Scots (though a most active, resolute,and gallant Whig party, admirably and energetically ordered anddisciplined, was known to be in Scotland too) was notoriously unshaken intheir king. A very great body of Tory clergy, nobility, and gentry, werepublic partisans of the exiled prince; and the indifferents might becounted on to cry King George or King James, according as either shouldprevail. The queen, especially in her latter days, inclined towards herown family. The prince was lying actually in London, within a stone's-castof his sister's palace; the first minister toppling to his fall, and sotottering that the weakest push of a woman's finger would send him down;and as for Bolingbroke, his successor, we know on whose side his power andhis splendid eloquence would be on the day when the queen should appearopenly before her council and say:--"This, my lords, is my brother; here ismy father's heir, and mine after me."

  During the whole of the previous year the queen had had many and repeatedfits of sickness, fever, and lethargy, and her death had been constantlylooked for by all her attendants. The Elector of Hanover had wished tosend his son, the Duke of Cambridge--to pay his court to his cousin thequeen, the Elector said;--in truth, to be on the spot when death shouldclose her career. Frightened perhaps to have such a _memento mori_ underher royal eyes, her Majesty had angrily forbidden the young prince'scoming into England. Either she desired to keep the chances for herbrother open yet; or the people about her did not wish to close with theWhig candidate till they could make terms with him. The quarrels of herministers before her face at the Council board, the pricks of consciencevery likely, the importunities of her ministers, and constant turmoil andagitation round about her, had weakened and irritated the princessextremely; her strength was giving way under these continual trials of hertemper, and from day to day it was expected she must come to a speedy endof them. Just before Viscount Castlewood and his companion came fromFrance, her Majesty was taken ill. The St. Anthony's fire broke out on theroyal legs; there was no hurry for the presentation of the young lord atCourt, or that person who should appear under his name; and my lordviscount's wound breaking out opportunely, he was kept conveniently in hischamber until such time as his physician should allow him to bend his kneebefore the queen. At the commencement of July, that influential lady, withwhom it has been mentioned that our party had relations, came frequentlyto visit her young friend, the maid of honour, at Kensington, and my lordviscount (the real or supposititious), who was an invalid at LadyCastlewood's house.

  On the 27th day of July, the lady in question, who held the most intimatepost about the queen, came in her chair from the palace hard by, bringingto the little party in Kensington Square, intelligence of the very highestimportance. The final blow had been struck, and my Lord of Oxford andMortimer was no longer treasurer. The staff was as yet given to nosuccessor, though my Lord Bolingbroke would undoubtedly be the man. Andnow the time was come, the queen's Abigail said: and now my LordCastlewood ought to be presented to the sovereign.

  After that scene which Lord Castlewood witnessed and described to hiscousin, who passed such a miserable night of mortification and jealousy ashe thought over the transaction; no doubt the three persons who were setby nature as protectors over Beatrix came to the same conclusion, that shemust be removed from the presence of a man whose desires towards her wereexpressed only too clearly; and who was no more scrupulous in seeking togratify them than his father had been before him. I suppose Esmond'smistress, her son, and the colonel himself, had been all secretly debatingthis matter in their minds, for when Frank broke out, in his blunt way,with:--"I think Beatrix had best be anywhere but here,"--Lady Castlewoodsaid:--"I thank you, Frank, I have thought so too"; and Mr. Esmond, thoughhe only remarked that it was not for him to speak, showed plainly, by thedelight on his countenance, how very agreeable that proposal was to him.

  "One sees that you think with us, Henry," says the viscountess, with everso little of sarcasm in her tone: "Beatrix is best out of this housewhilst we have our guest in it, and as s
oon as this morning's business isdone, she ought to quit London."

  "What morning's business?" asked Colonel Esmond, not knowing what had beenarranged, though in fact the stroke next in importance to that of bringingthe prince, and of having him acknowledged by the queen, was now beingperformed at the very moment we three were conversing together.

  The Court-lady with whom our plan was concerted, and who was a chief agentin it, the Court-physician, and the Bishop of Rochester, who were theother two most active participators in our plan, had held many councils inour house at Kensington and elsewhere, as to the means best to be adoptedfor presenting our young adventurer to his sister the queen. The simpleand easy plan proposed by Colonel Esmond had been agreed to by allparties, which was that on some rather private day, when there were notmany persons about the Court, the prince should appear there as my LordCastlewood, should be greeted by his sister-in-waiting, and led by thatother lady into the closet of the queen. And according to her Majesty'shealth or humour, and the circumstances that might arise during theinterview; it was to be left to the discretion of those present at it, andto the prince himself, whether he should declare that it was the queen'sown brother, or the brother of Beatrix Esmond, who kissed her royal hand.And this plan being determined on, we were all waiting in very muchanxiety for the day and signal of execution.

  Two mornings after that supper, it being the 27th day of July, the Bishopof Rochester breakfasting with Lady Castlewood and her family, and themeal scarce over, Dr. A----'s coach drove up to our house at Kensington, andthe doctor appeared amongst the party there, enlivening a rather gloomycompany; for the mother and daughter had had words in the morning inrespect to the transactions of that supper, and other adventures perhaps,and on the day succeeding. Beatrix's haughty spirit brooked remonstrancesfrom no superior, much less from her mother, the gentlest of creatures,whom the girl commanded rather than obeyed. And feeling she was wrong, andthat by a thousand coquetries (which she could no more help exercising onevery man that came near her, than the sun can help shining on great andsmall) she had provoked the prince's dangerous admiration, and allured himto the expression of it, she was only the more wilful and imperious themore she felt her error.

  To this party, the prince being served with chocolate in his bedchamber,where he lay late sleeping away the fumes of his wine, the doctor came,and by the urgent and startling nature of his news, dissipated instantlythat private and minor unpleasantry under which the family of Castlewoodwas labouring.

  He asked for the guest; the guest was above in his own apartment: he bade_Monsieur Baptiste_ go up to his master instantly, and requested that _myLord Viscount Castlewood_ would straightway put his uniform on, and comeaway in the doctor's coach now at the door.

  He then informed Madam Beatrix what her part of the comedy was to be:--"Inhalf an hour," says he, "her Majesty and her favourite lady will take theair in the cedar-walk behind the new banqueting-house. Her Majesty will bedrawn in a garden-chair, Madam Beatrix Esmond and _her brother_, _my LordViscount Castlewood_, will be walking in the private garden (here is LadyMasham's key), and will come unawares upon the royal party. The man thatdraws the chair will retire, and leave the queen, the favourite, and themaid of honour and her brother together; Mrs. Beatrix will present herbrother, and then!--and then, my lord bishop will pray for the result ofthe interview, and his Scots clerk will say Amen! Quick, put on your hood,Madam Beatrix; why doth not his Majesty come down? Such another chance maynot present itself for months again."

  The prince was late and lazy, and indeed had all but lost that chancethrough his indolence. The queen was actually about to leave the gardenjust when the party reached it; the doctor, the bishop, the maid of honourand her brother went off together in the physician's coach, and had beengone half an hour when Colonel Esmond came to Kensington Square.

  The news of this errand, on which Beatrix was gone, of course for a momentput all thoughts of private jealousy out of Colonel Esmond's head. In halfan hour more the coach returned; the bishop descended from it first, andgave his arm to Beatrix, who now came out. His lordship went back into thecarriage again, and the maid of honour entered the house alone. We wereall gazing at her from the upper window, trying to read from hercountenance the result of the interview from which she had just come.

  She came into the drawing-room in a great tremor and very pale; she askedfor a glass of water as her mother went to meet her, and after drinkingthat and putting off her hood, she began to speak:--"We may all hope forthe best," says she; "it has cost the queen a fit. Her Majesty was in herchair in the cedar-walk accompanied only by Lady ----, when we entered bythe private wicket from the west side of the garden, and turned towardsher, the doctor following us. They waited in a side-walk hidden by theshrubs, as we advanced towards the chair. My heart throbbed so I scarcecould speak; but my prince whispered, 'Courage, Beatrix', and marched onwith a steady step. His face was a little flushed, but he was not afraidof the danger. He who fought so bravely at Malplaquet fears nothing."Esmond and Castlewood looked at each other at this compliment, neitherliking the sound of it.

  "The prince uncovered," Beatrix continued, "and I saw the queen turninground to Lady Masham, as if asking who these two were. Her Majesty lookedvery pale and ill, and then flushed up; the favourite made us a signal toadvance, and I went up, leading my prince by the hand, quite close to thechair: 'Your Majesty will give my lord viscount your hand to kiss,' saysher lady, and the queen put out her hand, which the prince kissed,kneeling on his knee, he who should kneel to no mortal man or woman.

  " 'You have been long from England, my lord,' says the queen: 'why wereyou not here to give a home to your mother and sister?'

  " 'I am come, madam, to stay now, if the queen desires me,' says theprince, with another low bow.

  " 'You have taken a foreign wife, my lord, and a foreign religion; was notthat of England good enough for you?'

  " 'In returning to my father's Church,' says the prince, 'I do not love mymother the less, nor am I the less faithful servant of your Majesty.'

  "Here," says Beatrix, "the favourite gave me a little signal with her handto fall back, which I did, though I died to hear what should pass; andwhispered something to the queen, which made her Majesty start and utterone or two words in a hurried manner, looking towards the prince, andcatching hold with her hand of the arm of her chair. He advanced stillnearer towards it; he began to speak very rapidly; I caught the words,'Father, blessing, forgiveness,'--and then presently the prince fell on hisknees; took from his breast a paper he had there, handed it to the queen,who, as soon as she saw it, flung up both her arms with a scream, and tookaway that hand nearest the prince, and which he endeavoured to kiss. Hewent on speaking with great animation of gesture, now clasping his handstogether on his heart, now opening them as though to say: 'I am here, yourbrother, in your power.' Lady Masham ran round on the other side of thechair, kneeling too, and speaking with great energy. She clasped thequeen's hand on her side, and picked up the paper her Majesty had letfall. The prince rose and made a further speech as though he would go; thefavourite on the other hand urging her mistress, and then, running back tothe prince, brought him back once more close to the chair. Again he kneltdown and took the queen's hand, which she did not withdraw, kissing it ahundred times; my lady all the time, with sobs and supplications, speakingover the chair. This while the queen sat with a stupefied look, crumplingthe paper with one hand, as my prince embraced the other; then of a suddenshe uttered several piercing shrieks, and burst into a great fit ofhysteric tears and laughter. 'Enough, enough, sir, for this time,' I heardLady Masham say; and the chairman, who had withdrawn round thebanqueting-room, came back, alarmed by the cries: 'Quick,' says LadyMasham, 'get some help,' and I ran towards the doctor, who, with theBishop of Rochester, came up instantly. Lady Masham whispered the princehe might hope for the very best; and to be ready to-morrow; and he hathgone away to the Bishop of Rochester's house, to meet several of hisfriends there. And so the great stroke is stru
ck," says Beatrix, goingdown on her knees, and clasping her hands, "God save the King: God savethe King!"

  Beatrix's tale told, and the young lady herself calmed somewhat of heragitation, we asked with regard to the prince, who was absent with BishopAtterbury, and were informed that 'twas likely he might remain abroad thewhole day. Beatrix's three kinsfolk looked at one another at thisintelligence; 'twas clear the same thought was passing through the mindsof all.

  But who should begin to break the news? Monsieur Baptiste, that is FrankCastlewood, turned very red, and looked towards Esmond; the colonel bithis lips, and fairly beat a retreat into the window: it was LadyCastlewood that opened upon Beatrix with the news which we knew would doanything but please her.

  "We are glad," says she, taking her daughter's hand, and speaking in agentle voice, "that the guest is away."

  Beatrix drew back in an instant, looking round her at us three, and as ifdivining a danger. "Why glad?" says she, her breast beginning to heave;"are you so soon tired of him?"

  "We think one of us is devilishly too fond of him," cries out FrankCastlewood.

  "And which is it--you, my lord, or is it mamma, who is jealous because hedrinks my health? or is it the head of the family" (here she turned withan imperious look towards Colonel Esmond), "who has taken of late topreach the king sermons?"

  "We do not say you are too free with his Majesty."

  "I thank you, madam," says Beatrix, with a toss of the head and a curtsy.

  But her mother continued, with very great calmness and dignity--"At leastwe have not said so, though we might, were it possible for a mother to saysuch words to her own daughter, your father's daughter."

  "_Eh! mon pere_," breaks out Beatrix, "was no better than other persons'fathers;" and again she looked towards the colonel.

  We all felt a shock as she uttered those two or three French words; hermanner was exactly imitated from that of our foreign guest.

  "You had not learned to speak French a month ago, Beatrix," says hermother, sadly, "nor to speak ill of your father."

  Beatrix, no doubt, saw that slip she had made in her flurry, for sheblushed crimson: "I have learnt to honour the king," says she, drawing up,"and 'twere as well that others suspected neither his Majesty nor me."

  "If you respected your mother a little more," Frank said, "'Trix, youwould do yourself no hurt."

  "I am no child," says she, turning round on him; "we have lived very wellthese five years without the benefit of your advice or example, and Iintend to take neither now. Why does not the head of the house speak?" shewent on; "he rules everything here. When his chaplain has done singing thepsalms, will his lordship deliver the sermon? I am tired of the psalms."The prince had used almost the very same words, in regard to ColonelEsmond, that the imprudent girl repeated in her wrath.

  "You show yourself a very apt scholar, madam," says the colonel; and,turning to his mistress, "Did your guest use these words in yourladyship's hearing, or was it to Beatrix in private that he was pleased toimpart his opinion regarding my tiresome sermon?"

  "Have you seen him alone?" cries my lord, starting up with an oath: "byGod, have you seen him alone?"

  "Were he here, you wouldn't dare so to insult me; no, you would not dare!"cries Frank's sister. "Keep your oaths, my lord, for your wife; we are notused here to such language. 'Till you came, there used to be kindnessbetween me and mamma, and I cared for her when you never did, when youwere away for years with your horses, and your mistress, and your Popishwife."

  "By ----," says my lord, rapping out another oath, "Clotilda is an angel;how dare you say a word against Clotilda?"

  Colonel Esmond could not refrain from a smile, to see how easy Frank'sattack was drawn off by that feint:--"I fancy Clotilda is not the subjectin hand," says Mr. Esmond, rather scornfully; "her ladyship is at Paris, ahundred leagues off, preparing baby-linen. It is about my LordCastlewood's sister, and not his wife, the question is."

  "He is not my Lord Castlewood," says Beatrix, "and he knows he is not; heis Colonel Francis Esmond's son, and no more, and he wears a false title;and he lives on another man's land, and he knows it." Here was anotherdesperate sally of the poor beleaguered garrison, and an _alerte_ inanother quarter. "Again, I beg your pardon," says Esmond. "If there are noproofs of my claim, I have no claim. If my father acknowledged no heir,yours was his lawful successor, and my Lord Castlewood hath as good aright to his rank and small estate as any man in England. But that againis not the question, as you know very well: let us bring our talk back toit, as you will have me meddle in it. And I will give you frankly myopinion, that a house where a prince lies all day, who respects no woman,is no house for a young unmarried lady; that you were better in thecountry than here; that he is here on a great end, from which no follyshould divert him; and that having nobly done your part of this morning,Beatrix, you should retire off the scene awhile, and leave it to the otheractors of the play."

  As the colonel spoke with a perfect calmness and politeness, such as 'tisto be hoped he hath always shown to women,(18) his mistress stood by himon one side of the table, and Frank Castlewood on the other, hemming inpoor Beatrix, that was behind it, and, as it were, surrounding her withour approaches.

  Having twice sallied out and been beaten back, she now, as I expected,tried the _ultima ratio_ of women, and had recourse to tears. Herbeautiful eyes filled with them; I never could bear in her, nor in anywoman, that expression of pain:--"I am alone," sobbed she; "you are threeagainst me--my brother, my mother, and you. What have I done, that youshould speak and look so unkindly at me? Is it my fault that the princeshould, as you say, admire me? Did I bring him here? Did I do aught butwhat you bade me, in making him welcome? Did you not tell me that our dutywas to die for him? Did you not teach me, mother, night and morning, topray for the king, before even ourselves? What would you have of me,cousin, for you are the chief of the conspiracy against me; I know youare, sir, and that my mother and brother are acting but as you bid them;whither would you have me go?"

  "I would but remove from the prince," says Esmond gravely, "a dangeroustemptation; Heaven forbid I should say you would yield: I would only havehim free of it. Your honour needs no guardian, please God, but hisimprudence doth. He is so far removed from all women by his rank, that hispursuit of them cannot but be unlawful. We would remove the dearest andfairest of our family from the chance of that insult, and that is why wewould have you go, dear Beatrix."

  "Harry speaks like a book," says Frank, with one of his oaths, "and, by----, every word he saith is true. You can't help being handsome, 'Trix; nomore can the prince help following you. My council is that you go out ofharm's way; for, by the Lord, were the prince to play any tricks with you,king as he is, or is to be, Harry Esmond and I would have justice of him."

  "Are not two such champions enough to guard me?" says Beatrix, somethingsorrowfully; "sure, with you two watching, no evil could happen to me."

  "In faith, I think not, Beatrix," says Colonel Esmond; "nor if the princeknew us would he try."

  "But does he know you?" interposed Lady Esmond, very quiet: "he comes of acountry where the pursuit of kings is thought no dishonour to a woman. Letus go, dearest Beatrix. Shall we go to Walcote or to Castlewood? We arebest away from the city; and when the prince is acknowledged, and ourchampions have restored him, and he hath his own house at St. James's orWindsor, we can come back to ours here. Do you not think so, Harry andFrank?"

  Frank and Harry thought with her, you may be sure.

  "We will go, then," says Beatrix, turning a little pale; "Lady Masham isto give me warning to-night how her Majesty is, and to-morrow----"

  "I think we had best go to-day, my dear," says my Lady Castlewood; "wemight have the coach and sleep at Hounslow, and reach home to-morrow. 'Tistwelve o'clock; bid the coach, cousin, be ready at one."

  "For shame!" burst out Beatrix, in a passion of tears and mortification."You disgrace me by your cruel precautions; my own mother is the first tosuspect me, and would take me away
as my gaoler. I will not go with you,mother; I will go as no one's prisoner. If I wanted to deceive, do youthink I could find no means of evading you? My family suspects me. Asthose mistrust me that ought to love me most, let me leave them; I willgo, but I will go alone: to Castlewood, be it. I have been unhappy thereand lonely enough; let me go back, but spare me at least the humiliationof setting a watch over my misery, which is a trial I can't bear. Let mego when you will, but alone, or not at all. You three can stay and triumphover my unhappiness, and I will bear it as I have borne it before. Let mygaoler-in-chief go order the coach that is to take me away. I thank you,Henry Esmond, for your share in the conspiracy. All my life long I'llthank you, and remember you; and you, brother, and you, mother, how shallI show my gratitude to you for your careful defence of my honour?"

  She swept out of the room with the air of an empress, flinging glances ofdefiance at us all, and leaving us conquerors of the field, but scared,and almost ashamed of our victory. It did indeed seem hard and cruel thatwe three should have conspired the banishment and humiliation of that faircreature. We looked at each other in silence; 'twas not the first strokeby many of our actions in that unlucky time, which, being done, we wishedundone. We agreed it was best she should go alone, speaking stealthily toone another, and under our breaths, like persons engaged in an act theyfelt ashamed in doing.

  In a half-hour, it might be, after our talk she came back, her countenancewearing the same defiant air which it had borne when she left us. She helda shagreen-case in her hand; Esmond knew it as containing his diamondswhich he had given to her for her marriage with Duke Hamilton, and whichshe had worn so splendidly on the inauspicious night of the prince'sarrival. "I have brought back," says she, "to the Marquis of Esmond thepresent he deigned to make me in days when he trusted me better than now.I will never accept a benefit or a kindness from Henry Esmond more, and Igive back these family diamonds, which belonged to one king's mistress, tothe gentleman that suspected I would be another. Have you been upon yourmessage of coach-caller, my lord marquis; will you send your valet to seethat I do not run away?" We were right, yet, by her manner, she had put usall in the wrong; we were conquerors, yet the honours of the day seemed tobe with the poor oppressed girl.

  That luckless box containing the stones had first been ornamented with abaron's coronet, when Beatrix was engaged to the young gentleman from whomshe parted, and afterwards the gilt crown of a duchess figured on thecover, which also poor Beatrix was destined never to wear. Lady Castlewoodopened the case mechanically and scarce thinking what she did; and behold,besides the diamonds, Esmond's present, there lay in the box the enamelledminiature of the late duke, which Beatrix had laid aside with her mourningwhen the king came into the house; and which the poor heedless thing verylikely had forgotten.

  "Do you leave this, too, Beatrix?" says her mother, taking the miniatureout and with a cruelty she did not very often show; but there are somemoments when the tenderest women are cruel, and some triumphs which angelscan't forgo.(19)

  Having delivered this stab, Lady Esmond was frightened at the effect ofher blow. It went to poor Beatrix's heart; she flushed up and passed ahandkerchief across her eyes, and kissed the miniature, and put it intoher bosom:--"I had forgot it," says she; "my injury made me forget mygrief, my mother has recalled both to me. Farewell, mother, I think Inever can forgive you; something hath broke between us that no tears noryears can repair. I always said I was alone; you never loved me, never--andwere jealous of me from the time I sat on my father's knee. Let me goaway, the sooner the better; I can bear to be with you no more."

  "Go, child," says her mother, still very stern; "go and bend your proudknees and ask forgiveness; go, pray in solitude for humility andrepentance. 'Tis not your reproaches that make me unhappy, 'tis your hardheart, my poor Beatrix; may God soften it, and teach you one day to feelfor your mother!"

  If my mistress was cruel, at least she never could be got to own as much.Her haughtiness quite overtopped Beatrix's; and, if the girl had a proudspirit, I very much fear it came to her by inheritance.