air. Indeed, indeed, I ought." And he prayed
for this bit of promotion.

"Again the head of the house must take the lead, my dear," George said
with a superb air. "If I fall, my Harry will avenge me. But I must fight
George Washington, Hal; and 'tis best I should; for, indeed, I hate him
the worst. Was it not he who counselled my mother to order that wretch,
Ward, to lay hands on me?"

"Colonel Washington is my enemy especially. He has advised one wrong
against me, and he meditates a greater. I tell you, brother, we must
punish him."

The grandsire's old Bordeaux had set George's ordinarily pale countenance
into a flame. Harry, his brother's fondest worshipper, could not but
admire George's haughty bearing and rapid declamation, and prepared
himself, with his usual docility, to follow his chief. So the boys went
to their beds, the elder conveying special injunctions to his junior to
be civil to all the guests so long as they remained under the maternal
roof on the morrow.

The widow, occupied as she had been with the cares of a great dinner,
followed by a great breakfast on the morning ensuing, had scarce leisure
to remark the behaviour of her sons very closely, but at least saw that
George was scrupulously polite to her favourite, Colonel Washington, as
to all the other guests of the house.

Before Mr. Braddock took his leave he had a private audience with Madame
Esmond, in which his Excellency formally arranged to take her son into
his family; after which the jolly General good-naturedly shook hands
with George, and bade George welcome and to be in attendance at
Frederick three days hence; shortly after which time the expedition
would set forth.

And now the great coach was again called into requisition, the
General's escort pranced round it, the other guests and their servants
went to horse.

As the boys went up the steps, there was the Colonel once more taking
leave of their mother. No doubt she had been once more recommending
George to his namesake's care; for Colonel Washington said: "With my
life. You may depend on me," as the lads returned to their mother and the
few guests still remained in the porch. The Colonel was booted and ready
to depart. "Farewell, my dear Harry," he said. "With you, George, 'tis no
adieu. We shall meet in three days at the camp."

George Warrington watched his mother's emotion, and interpreted it with
a pang of malignant scorn. "Stay yet a moment, and console our mamma,"
he s