w's friend only inclined his head. He did not choose to allow
his countenance to depart from its usual handsome gravity.

"And with you, dear Colonel Washington, by whom my father always set
such store. You don't know how much he trusted in you. You will take
care of my boy, sir, will not you? You are but five years older, yet
I trust to you more than to his seniors; my father always told the
children, I alway bade them, to look up to Mr. Washington."

"You know I would have done anything to win Colonel Esmond's favour.
Madam, how much would I not venture to merit his daughter's?"

The gentleman bowed with not too ill a grace. The lady blushed,
and dropped one of the lowest curtsies. (Madam Esmond's curtsey was
considered unrivalled over the whole province.) "Mr. Washington," she
said, "will be always sure of a mother's affection, whilst he gives so
much of his to her children." And so saying she gave him her hand, which
he kissed with profound politeness. The little lady presently re-entered
her mansion, leaning upon the tall young officer's arm. Here they were
joined by George, who came to them, accurately powdered and richly
attired, saluting his parent and his friend alike with low and
respectful bows. Nowadays, a young man walks into his mother's room with
hobnailed high-lows, and a wideawake on his head; and instead of making
her a bow, puffs a cigar into her face.

But George, though he made the lowest possible bow to Mr. Washington and
his mother, was by no means in good-humour with either of them. A
polite smile played round the lower part of his countenance, whilst
watchfulness and wrath glared out from the two upper windows. What had
been said or done? Nothing that might not have been performed or uttered
before the most decent, polite, or pious company. Why then should Madam
Esmond continue to blush, and the brave Colonel to look somewhat red, as
he shook his young friend's hand?

The Colonel asked Mr. George if he had had good sport? "No," says
George, curtly. "Have you?" And then he looked at the picture of his
father, which hung in the parlour.

The Colonel, not a talkative man ordinarily, straightway entered into
a long description of his sport, and described where he had been in the
morning, and what woods he had hunted with the king's officers; how many
birds they had shot, and what game they had brought down. Though not
a jocular man ordinarily, the Colonel made a long description of Mr.
Braddoc