We owe him not only Frank’s life, but our all—­yes, our all,” says my mistress, with a heightened color and a trembling voice.  “The title we bear is his, if he would claim it.  ’Tis we who have no right to our name:  not he that’s too great for it.  He sacrificed his name at my dying lord’s bedside—­sacrificed it to my orphan children; gave up rank and honor because he loved us so nobly.  His father was Viscount of Castlewood and Marquis of Esmond before him; and he is his father’s lawful son and true heir, and we are the recipients of his bounty, and he the chief of a house that’s as old as your own.  And if he is content to forego his name that my child may bear it, we love him and honor him and bless him under whatever name he bears”—­and here the fond and affectionate creature would have knelt to Esmond again, but that he prevented her; and Beatrix, running up to her with a pale face and a cry of alarm, embraced her and said, “Mother, what is this?”

“’Tis a family secret, my Lord Duke,” says Colonel Esmond:  “poor Beatrix knew nothing of it; nor did my lady till a year ago.  And I have as good a right to resign my title as your Grace’s mother to abdicate hers to you.”

“I should have told everything to the Duke of Hamilton,” said my mistress, “had his Grace applied to me for my daughter’s hand, and not to Beatrix.  I should have spoken with you this very day in private, my lord, had not your words brought about this sudden explanation—­and now ’tis fit Beatrix should hear it; and know, as I would have all the world know, what we owe to our kinsman and patron.”

And then in her touching way, and having hold of her daughter’s hand, and speaking to her rather than my Lord Duke, Lady Castlewood told the story which you know already—­lauding up to the skies her kinsman’s behavior.  On his side Mr. Esmond explained the reasons that seemed quite sufficiently cogent with him, why the succession in the family, as at present it stood, should not be disturbed; and he should remain as he was, Colonel Esmond.

“And Marquis of Esmond, my lord,” says his Grace, with a low bow.  “Permit me to ask your lordship’s pardon for words that were uttered in ignorance; and to beg for the favor of your friendship.  To be allied to you, sir, must be an honor under whatever name you are known” (so his Grace was pleased to say); “and in return for the splendid present you make my wife, your kinswoman, I hope you will please to command any service that James Douglas can perform.  I shall never be easy until I repay you a part of my obligations at least; and ere very long, and with the mission her Majesty hath given me,” says the Duke, “that may perhaps be in my power.  I shall esteem it as a favor, my lord, if Colonel Esmond will give away the bride.”

“And if he will take the usual payment in advance, he is welcome,” says Beatrix, stepping up to him; and, as Esmond kissed her, she whispered, “Oh, why didn’t I know you before?”