this awful authority.

Who was his mother? What had her name been? When did she die? Esmond
longed to find some one who could answer these questions to him, and
thought even of putting them to his aunt the viscountess, who had
innocently taken the name which belonged of right to Henry's mother. But
she knew nothing, or chose to know nothing, on this subject, nor, indeed,
could Mr. Esmond press her much to speak on it. Father Holt was the only
man who could enlighten him, and Esmond felt he must wait until some fresh
chance or new intrigue might put him face to face with his old friend, or
bring that restless indefatigable spirit back to England again.

The appointment to his ensigncy, and the preparations necessary for the
campaign, presently gave the young gentleman other matters to think of.
His new patroness treated him very kindly and liberally; she promised to
make interest and pay money, too, to get him a company speedily; she bade
him procure a handsome outfit, both of clothes and of arms, and was
pleased to admire him when he made his first appearance in his laced
scarlet coat, and to permit him to salute her on the occasion of this
interesting investiture. "Red," says she, tossing up her old head, "hath
always been the colour worn by the Esmonds." And so her ladyship wore it
on her own cheeks very faithfully to the last. She would have him be
dressed, she said, as became his father's son, and paid cheerfully for his
five-pound beaver, his black buckled periwig, and his fine holland shirts,
and his swords, and his pistols, mounted with silver. Since the day he was
born, poor Harry had never looked such a fine gentleman: his liberal
stepmother filled his purse with guineas, too, some of which Captain
Steele and a few choice spirits helped Harry to spend in an entertainment
which Dick ordered (and, indeed, would have paid for, but that he had no
money when the reckoning was called for; nor would the landlord give him
any more credit) at the "Garter", over against the gate of the Palace, in
Pall Mall.

The old viscountess, indeed, if she had done Esmond any wrong formerly,
seemed inclined to repair it by the present kindness of her behaviour: she
embraced him copiously at parting, wept plentifully, bade him write by
every packet, and gave him an inestimable relic, which she besought him to
wear round his neck--a medal, blessed by I know not what Pope, and worn by
his late sacred Majesty King James. So Esmond arriv