by his kind host, who
led him first down a broad oak stair, round which hung many pikes and
muskets of ancient shape, and so into a square marble-paved room, from
which the living-rooms of the house branched off. There were more arms
in this hall-pikes and halberts of ancient date, pistols and jack-boots
of more than a century old, that had done service in Cromwell's wars,
a tattered French guidon which had been borne by a French gendarme at
Malplaquet, and a pair of cumbrous Highland broadswords, which, having
been carried as far as Derby, had been flung away on the fatal field of
Culloden. Here were breastplates and black morions of Oliver's troopers,
and portraits of stern warriors in buff jerkins and plain bands and
short hair. "They fought against your grandfathers and King Charles, Mr.
Warrington," said Harry's host. "I don't hide that. They rode to join
the Prince of Orange at Exeter. We were Whigs, young gentleman, and
something more. John Lambert, the Major-General, was a kinsman of our
house, and we were all more or less partial to short hair and long
sermons. You do not seem to like either?" Indeed, Harry's face
manifested signs of anything but pleasure whilst he examined the
portraits of the Parliamentary heroes. "Be not alarmed, we are very
good Churchmen now. My eldest son will be in orders ere long. He is now
travelling as governor to my Lord Wrotham's son in Italy, and as for our
women, they are all for the Church, and carry me with 'em. Every woman
is a Tory at heart. Mr. Pope says a rake, but I think t'other is the
more charitable word. Come, let us go see them," and, flinging open
the dark oak door, Colonel Lambert led his young guest into the parlour
where the ladies were assembled.

"Here is Miss Hester," said the Colonel, "and this is Miss Theo, the
soup-maker, the tailoress, the harpsichord-player, and the songstress,
who set you to sleep last night. Make a curtsey to the gentleman, young
ladies! Oh, I forgot, and Theo is the mistress of the roses which you
admired a short while since in your bedroom. I think she has kept some
of them in her cheeks."

In fact, Miss Theo was making a profound curtsey and blushing
most modestly as her papa spoke. I am not going to describe her
person,--though we shall see a great deal of her in the course of this
history. She was not a particular beauty. Harry Warrington was not over
head and ears in love with her at an instant's warning, and faithless
to--to that