used to say."

"You think, madam, I am scheming to keep George for my daughter? I thank
you, on my word! A good opinion you seem to have of us after the years
we have lived together!"

"My dear Mountain, I know you much better than to suppose you could ever
fancy your daughter would be a suitable match for a gentleman of Mr.
Esmond's rank and station," says Madam, with much dignity.

"Fanny Parker was as good as Molly Benson at school, and Mr. Mountain's
daughter is as good as Mr. Lambert's!" Mrs. Mountain cries out.

"Then you did think of marrying her to my son! I shall write to
Mr. Esmond Warrington, and say how sorry I am that you should be
disappointed!" says the mistress of Castlewood. And we, for our parts,
may suppose that Mrs. Mountain was disappointed, and had some ambitious
views respecting her daughter--else, why should she have been so angry
at the notion of Mr. Warrington's marriage?

In reply to her son, Madam Esmond wrote back that she was pleased with
the fraternal love George exhibited; that it was indeed but right in
some measure to compensate Harry, whose expectations had led him to
adopt a more costly mode of life than he would have entered on had he
known he was only a younger son. And with respect to purchasing his
promotion, she would gladly halve the expense with Harry's elder
brother, being thankful to think his own gallantry had won him his first
step. This bestowal of George's money, Madam Esmond added, was at least
much more satisfactory than some other extravagances to which she would
not advert.

The other extravagance to which Madam alluded was the payment of the
ransom to the French captain's family, to which tax George's mother
never would choose to submit. She had a determined spirit of her own,
which her son inherited. His persistence she called pride and obstinacy.
What she thought of her own pertinacity, her biographer, who lives so
far from her time, does not pretend to say. Only I dare say people
a hundred years ago pretty much resembled their grandchildren of the
present date, and loved to have their own way, and to make others follow
it.

Now, after paying his own ransom, his brother's debts, and half the
price for his promotion, George calculated that no inconsiderable
portion of his private patrimony would be swallowed up: nevertheless
he made the sacrifice with a perfect good heart. His good mother always
enjoined him in her letters to remember who his grandfather was