The History of Henry Esmond | Page 9

sweet,
that the boy, who had never looked upon so much beauty before, felt as
if the touch of a superior being or angel smote him down to the ground,
and kissed the fair protecting hand as he knelt on one knee. To the very
last hour of his life, Esmond remembered the lady as she then spoke
and looked, the rings on her fair hands, the very scent of her robe, the
beam of her eyes lighting up with surprise and kindness, her lips
blooming in a smile, the sun making a golden halo round her hair.
As the boy was yet in this attitude of humility, enters behind him a
portly gentleman, with a little girl of four years old in his hand. The
gentleman burst into a great laugh at the lady and her adorer, with his
little queer figure, his sallow face, and long black hair. The lady
blushed, and seemed to deprecate his ridicule by a look of appeal to her
husband, for it was my Lord Viscount who now arrived, and whom the
lad knew, having once before seen him in the late lord's lifetime.
"So this is the little priest" says my lord, looking down at the lad;
"welcome, kinsman."
"He is saying his prayers to mamma," says the little girl, who came up
to her papa's knees; and my lord burst out into another great laugh at
this, and kinsman Henry looked very silly. He invented a half-dozen of

speeches in reply, but 'twas months afterwards when he thought of this
adventure: as it was, he had never a word in answer.
"Le pauvre enfant, il n'a que nous," says the lady, looking to her lord;
and the boy, who understood her, though doubtless she thought
otherwise, thanked her with all his heart for her kind speech.
"And he shan't want for friends here," says my lord in a kind voice,
"shall he, little Trix?"
The little girl, whose name was Beatrix, and whom her papa called by
this diminutive, looked at Henry Esmond solemnly, with a pair of large
eyes, and then a smile shone over her face, which was as beautiful as
that of a cherub, and she came up and put out a little hand to him. A
keen and delightful pang of gratitude, happiness, affection, filled the
orphan child's heart, as he received from the protectors, whom heaven
had sent to him, these touching words and tokens of friendliness and
kindness. But an hour since, he had felt quite alone in the world: when
he heard the great peal of bells from Castlewood church ringing that
morning to welcome the arrival of the new lord and lady, it had rung
only terror and anxiety to him, for he knew not how the new owner
would deal with him; and those to whom he formerly looked for
protection were forgotten or dead. Pride and doubt too had kept him
within-doors, when the Vicar and the people of the village, and the
servants of the house, had gone out to welcome my Lord
Castlewood--for Henry Esmond was no servant, though a dependant;
no relative, though he bore the name and inherited the blood of the
house; and in the midst of the noise and acclamations attending the
arrival of the new lord (for whom, you may be sure, a feast was got
ready, and guns were fired, and tenants and domestics huzzahed when
his carriage approached and rolled into the court-yard of the hall), no
one ever took any notice of young Henry Esmond, who sat unobserved
and alone in the Book-room, until the afternoon of that day, when his
new friends found him.
When my lord and lady were going away thence, the little girl, still
holding her kinsman by the hand, bade him to come too. "Thou wilt
always forsake an old friend for a new one, Trix," says her father to her
good-naturedly; and went into the gallery, giving an arm to his lady.
They passed thence through the music-gallery, long since dismantled,
and Queen Elizabeth's Rooms, in the clock- tower, and out into the

terrace, where was a fine prospect of sunset and the great darkling
woods with a cloud of rooks returning; and the plain and river with
Castlewood village beyond, and purple hills beautiful to look at--and
the little heir of Castlewood, a child of two years old, was already here
on the terrace in his nurse's arms, from whom he ran across the grass
instantly he perceived his mother, and came to her.
"If thou canst not be happy here," says my lord, looking round at the
scene, "thou art hard to please, Rachel."
"I am happy where you are," she said, "but we were happiest of all at
Walcote Forest." Then my lord began