d his wife and children.
These had their lodging in the gate-house hard by, with a door into the
court; and a window looking out on the green was the Chaplain's room;
and next to this a small chamber where Father Holt had his books, and
Harry Esmond his sleeping closet. The side of the house facing the
east had escaped the guns of the Cromwellians, whose battery was on the
height facing the western court; so that this eastern end bore few marks
of demolition, save in the chapel, where the painted windows surviving
Edward the Sixth had been broke by the Commonwealthmen. In Father Holt's
time little Harry Esmond acted as his familiar and faithful little
servitor; beating his clothes, folding his vestments, fetching his
water from the well long before daylight, ready to run anywhere for the
service of his beloved priest. When the Father was away, he locked his
private chamber; but the room where the books were was left to little
Harry, who, but for the society of this gentleman, was little less
solitary when Lord Castlewood was at home.

The French wit saith that a hero is none to his valet-de-chambre, and
it required less quick eyes than my lady's little page was naturally
endowed with, to see that she had many qualities by no means heroic,
however much Mrs. Tusher might flatter and coax her. When Father Holt
was not by, who exercised an entire authority over the pair, my lord
and my lady quarrelled and abused each other so as to make the servants
laugh, and to frighten the little page on duty. The poor boy trembled
before his mistress, who called him by a hundred ugly names, who made
nothing of boxing his ears, and tilting the silver basin in his face
which it was his business to present to her after dinner. She hath
repaired, by subsequent kindness to him, these severities, which it must
be owned made his childhood very unhappy. She was but unhappy herself at
this time, poor soul! and I suppose made her dependants lead her own sad
life. I think my lord was as much afraid of her as her page was, and the
only person of the household who mastered her was Mr. Holt. Harry was
only too glad when the Father dined at table, and to slink away and
prattle with him afterwards, or read with him, or walk with him.
Luckily my Lady Viscountess did not rise till noon. Heaven help the poor
waiting-woman who had charge of her toilet! I have often seen the poor
wretch come out with red eyes from the closet where those long and
mysterious