s of Harwich, as the packet came in from Holland. It was not
many hours ere he, Esmond, was in London, of that you may be sure, and
received with open arms by the old Dowager of Chelsey, who vowed, in her
jargon of French and English, that he had the air noble, that his pallor
embellished him, that he was an Amadis and deserved a Gloriana; and oh!
flames and darts! what was his joy at hearing that his mistress was come
into waiting, and was now with her Majesty at Kensington! Although Mr.
Esmond had told Jack Lockwood to get horses and they would ride for
Winchester that night, when he heard this news he countermanded the
horses at once; his business lay no longer in Hants; all his hope and
desire lay within a couple of miles of him in Kensington Park wall. Poor
Harry had never looked in the glass before so eagerly to see whether he
had the bel air, and his paleness really did become him; he never
took such pains about the curl of his periwig, and the taste of his
embroidery and point-lace, as now, before Mr. Amadis presented himself
to Madam Gloriana. Was the fire of the French lines half so murderous
as the killing glances from her ladyship's eyes? Oh! darts and raptures,
how beautiful were they!

And as, before the blazing sun of morning, the moon fades away in the
sky almost invisible, Esmond thought, with a blush perhaps, of another
sweet pale face, sad and faint, and fading out of sight, with its sweet
fond gaze of affection; such a last look it seemed to cast as Eurydice
might have given, yearning after her lover, when Fate and Pluto summoned
her, and she passed away into the shades.

CHAPTER X.

AN OLD STORY ABOUT A FOOL AND A WOMAN.

Any taste for pleasure which Esmond had (and he liked to desipere in
loco, neither more nor less than most young men of his age) he could
now gratify to the utmost extent, and in the best company which the town
afforded. When the army went into winter quarters abroad, those of the
officers who had interest or money easily got leave of absence, and
found it much pleasanter to spend their time in Pall Mall and Hyde Park,
than to pass the winter away behind the fortifications of the dreary
old Flanders towns, where the English troops were gathered. Yachts and
packets passed daily between the Dutch and Flemish ports and Harwich;
the roads thence to London and the great inns were crowded with
army gentlemen; the taverns and ordinaries of the town swarmed with
red-coats; and