she had she could never be got to
own. But if there came a woman with even a semblance of beauty to
Castlewood, she was so sure to find out some wrong in her, that my lord,
laughing in his jolly way, would often joke with her concerning her
foible. Comely servant-maids might come for hire, but none were taken at
Castlewood. The housekeeper was old; my lady's own waiting-woman squinted,
and was marked with the small-pox; the housemaids and scullion were
ordinary country wenches, to whom Lady Castlewood was kind, as her nature
made her to everybody almost; but as soon as ever she had to do with a
pretty woman, she was cold, retiring, and haughty. The country ladies
found this fault in her; and though the men all admired her, their wives
and daughters complained of her coldness and airs, and said that
Castlewood was pleasanter in Lady Jezebel's time (as the dowager was
called) than at present. Some few were of my mistress's side. Old Lady
Blenkinsop Jointure, who had been at Court in King James the First's time,
always took her side; and so did old Mistress Crookshank, Bishop
Crookshank's daughter, of Hexton, who, with some more of their like,
pronounced my lady an angel; but the pretty women were not of this mind;
and the opinion of the country was, that my lord was tied to his wife's
apron-strings, and that she ruled over him.

The second fight which Harry Esmond had, was at fourteen years of age,
with Bryan Hawkshaw, Sir John Hawkshaw's son, of Bramblebrook, who
advancing this opinion, that my lady was jealous, and henpecked my lord,
put Harry into such a fury, that Harry fell on him, and with such rage,
that the other boy, who was two years older, and by far bigger than he,
had by far the worst of the assault, until it was interrupted by Doctor
Tusher walking out of the dinner room.

Bryan Hawkshaw got up, bleeding at the nose, having, indeed, been
surprised, as many a stronger man might have been, by the fury of the
assault upon him.

"You little bastard beggar!" he said, "I'll murder you for this!"

And indeed he was big enough.

"Bastard or not," said the other, grinding his teeth, "I have a couple of
swords, and if you like to meet me, as a man, on the terrace to-night----"

And here the doctor coming up, the colloquy of the young champions ended.
Very likely, big as he was, Hawkshaw did not care to continue a fight with
such a ferocious opponent as this had been.

Chapter VIII. After Good Fortune Comes