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George Esmond, when this little matter was referred to him, and his
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mother vehemently insisted that he should declare himself, was of the
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opinion of Mr. Washington and Mr. Draper, the London lawyer. The boy said
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he could not help himself. He did not want the money; he would be very
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glad to give the money to his mother if he had the power. But Madame
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Esmond would not hear of these reasons. Here was a chance of making
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Harry's fortune--dear Harry, who was left with such a slender younger
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brother's pittance--and the wretches in London would not help him; his
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own brother, who inherited all his papa's estate, would not help him. To
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think of a child of hers being so mean at _fourteen years of age_!
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Into this state of mind the incident plunged Madame Warrington, and no
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amount of reasoning could bring her out of it. On account of the
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occurrence she at once set to work saving for her younger son, for whom
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she was eager to make a fortune. The fine buildings were stopped as well
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as the fine fittings which had been ordered for the interior of the new
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home. No more books were bought; the agent had orders to discontinue
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sending wine. Madame Esmond deeply regretted the expense of a fine
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carriage which she had from England, and only rode in it to church,
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crying out to the sons sitting opposite to her, "Harry, Harry! I wish I
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had put by the money for thee, my poor portionless child; three hundred
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and eighty guineas of ready money to Messieurs Hatchett!"
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"You will give me plenty while you live, and George will give me plenty
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when you die," says Harry gaily.
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"Not until he changes in _spirit_, my dear," says the lady grimly,
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glancing at her elder boy. "Not unless Heaven softens his heart and
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teaches him _charity_, for which I pray day and night; as Mountain knows;
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do you not, Mountain?"
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Mrs. Mountain, Ensign Mountain's widow, who had been a friend of Rachel
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Esmond in her school days, and since her widowhood had been Madame
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Esmond's companion in Castlewood house, serving to enliven many dull
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hours for that lady and enjoying thoroughly the home which Castlewood
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afforded her and her child. Mrs. Mountain, I say, who was occupying the
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fourth seat in the family coach, said, "Humph! humph! I know you are
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always disturbing yourself about this legacy, and I don't see that there
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is any need."
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"Oh, no! no need!" cries the widow, rustling in her silks; "of course I
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have no need to be disturbed, because my eldest born is _a disobedient
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son and an unkind brother;_ because he has an estate, and my poor Harry,
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bless him, but a _mess of pottage_."
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George looked despairingly at his mother until he could see her no more
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for eyes welled up with tears. "I wish you would bless me, too, O my
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mother!" he said, and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. Harry's
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arms were in a moment round his brother's neck, and he kissed George a
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score of times.
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"Never mind, George. I know whether you are a good brother or not. Don't
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mind what she says. She don't mean it."
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"I do mean it, child," cries the mother. "Would to Heaven--"
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"_Hold your tongue, I say_!" roars out Harry. "It's a shame to speak so
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to him, ma'am."
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"And so it is, Harry," says Mrs. Mountain, shaking his hand. "You never
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said a truer word in your life."
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"Mrs. Mountain, do you dare to set my children against me?" cries the
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widow. "From this very day, madam--"
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"Turn me and my child into the street? Do," says Mrs. Mountain. "That
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will be a fine revenge because the English lawyer won't give you the
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boy's money. Find another companion who will tell you black is white, and
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flatter you; it is not my way, madam. When shall I go? I shan't be long
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a-packing. I did not bring much into Castlewood house, and I shall not
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take much out."
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"Hush! the bells are ringing for church, Mountain. Let us try, if you
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please, and compose ourselves," said the widow, and she looked with eyes
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of extreme affection, certainly at one, perhaps at both, of her children.
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George kept his head down, and Harry, who was near, got quite close to
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him during the sermon, and sat with his arm round his brother's neck.
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From these incidents it may be clearly seen that Madame Esmond besides
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being a brisk little woman at business and ruling like a little queen in
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Castlewood was also a victim of many freaks and oddities, among them one
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of the most prominent being a great desire for flattery. There was no
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amount of compliment which she could not graciously receive and take as
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her due, and it was her greatest delight to receive attention from
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suitors of every degree. Her elder boy saw this peculiarity of his
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mother's disposition and chafed privately under it. From a very early
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day he revolted when compliments were paid to the little lady, and
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strove to expose them with his youthful satire; so that his mother would
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say gravely, "the Esmonds were always of a jealous disposition, and my
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poor boy takes after my father and mother in this."
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One winter after their first tutor had been dismissed Madame Esmond took
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them to Williamsburg for such education as the schools and colleges there
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afforded, and there they listened to the preaching and became acquainted
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with the famous Mr. Whitfield, who, at Madame Esmond's request, procured
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a tutor for the boys, by name Mr. Ward. For weeks Madame Esmond was never
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tired of hearing Mr. Ward's utterances of a religious character, and
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according to her wont she insisted that her neighbours should come and
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listen to him and ordered them to be converted to the faith which he
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represented. Her young favourite, Mr. George Washington, she was
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especially anxious to influence; and again and again pressed him to come
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and stay at Castlewood and benefit by the spiritual advantages there to
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be obtained. But that young gentleman found he had particular business
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which called him home or away from home, and always ordered his horse of
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evenings when the time was coming for Mr. Ward's exercises. And--what
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boys are just towards their pedagogue?--the twins grew speedily tired and
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even rebellious under their new teacher.
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They found him a bad scholar, a dull fellow, and ill-bred to boot. George
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knew much more Latin and Greek than his master; Harry, who could take
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much greater liberties than were allowed to his elder brother, mimicked
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Ward's manner of eating and talking, so that Mrs. Mountain and even
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Madame Esmond were forced to laugh, and little Fanny Mountain would crow
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with delight. Madame Esmond would have found the fellow out for a vulgar
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quack but for her son's opposition, which she, on her part, opposed with
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her own indomitable will.
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