Harry: he,--he! (reach me the drops, cousin). Well, then, my dear, since
you want poor Harry to have a fortune, you must understand that ever
since the year 1691, a week after the battle of the Boyne, where the
Prince of Orange defeated his royal sovereign and father, for which
crime he is now suffering in flames (ugh! ugh!) Henry Esmond hath been
Marquis of Esmond and Earl of Castlewood in the United Kingdom, and
Baron and Viscount Castlewood of Shandon in Ireland, and a Baronet--and
his eldest son will be, by courtesy, styled Earl of Castlewood--he! he!
What do you think of that, my dear?"

"Gracious mercy! how long have you known this?" cries the other lady
(thinking perhaps that the old Marchioness was wandering in her wits).

"My husband, before he was converted, was a wicked wretch," the sick
sinner continued. "When he was in the Low Countries he seduced a
weaver's daughter; and added to his wickedness by marrying her. And then
he came to this country and married me--a poor girl--a poor innocent
young thing--I say,"--"though she was past forty, you know, Harry, when
she married: and as for being innocent"--"Well," she went on, "I knew
nothing of my lord's wickedness for three years after our marriage, and
after the burial of our poor little boy I had it done over again, my
dear: I had myself married by Father Holt in Castlewood chapel, as soon
as ever I heard the creature was dead--and having a great illness then,
arising from another sad disappointment I had, the priest came and told
me that my lord had a son before our marriage, and that the child was at
nurse in England; and I consented to let the brat be brought home, and a
queer little melancholy child it was when it came.

"Our intention was to make a priest of him: and he was bred for this,
until you perverted him from it, you wicked woman. And I had again hopes
of giving an heir to my lord, when he was called away upon the King's
business, and died fighting gloriously at the Boyne water.

"Should I be disappointed--I owed your husband no love, my dear, for he
had jilted me in the most scandalous way and I thought there would be
time to declare the little weaver's son for the true heir. But I was
carried off to prison, where your husband was so kind to me--urging
all his friends to obtain my release, and using all his credit in my
favor--that I relented towards him, especially as my director counselled
me to be silent; and that it was for the good of th