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 rites of her ladyship's dress were performed, and the
backgammon-box locked up with a rap on Mrs. Tusher's fingers when she
played ill, or the game was going the wrong way.

Blessed be the king who introduced cards, and the kind inventors
of piquet and cribbage, for they employed six hours at least of her
ladyship's day, during which her family was pretty easy. Without this
occupation my lady frequently declared she should die. Her dependants
one after another relieved guard--'twas rather a dangerous post to play
with her ladyship--and took the cards turn about. Mr. Holt would sit
with her at piquet during hours together, at which time she behaved
herself properly; and as for Dr. Tusher, I believe he would have left a
parishioner's dying bed, if summoned to play a rubber with his patroness
at Castlewood. Sometimes, when they were pretty comfortable together,
my lord took a hand. Besides these my lady had her faithful poor Tusher,
and one, two, three gentlewomen whom Harry Esmond could recollect in