She said she should shudder at touching his hand.
She declared Mr.Washington had taken her son from her, she could not sleep under the same roof with him.
"He gave me his bed when I was ill, mother; and if our George is alive, how has George Washington a hand in his death?
Ah! please God it be only as you say," cried Harry, in bewilderment.
"If your brother returns, as return he will, it will not be through Mr.
Washington's help," said Madam Esmond.

"He neither defended George on the field, nor would he bring him out of it." "But he tended me most kindly in my fever," interposed Harry.

"He was yet ill when he gave up his bed to me, and was thinking only of his friend, when any other man would have thought only of himself." "A friend! A pretty friend!" sneers the lady.

"Of all his Excellency's aides-de-camp, my gentleman is the only one who comes back unwounded.
The brave and noble fall, but he, to be sure, is unhurt.

I confide my boy to him, the pride of my life, whom he will defend with his, forsooth! And he leaves my George in the forest, and brings me back himself! Oh, a pretty welcome I must give him!" "No gentleman," cried Harry, warmly, "was ever refused shelter under my grandfather's roof." "Oh no--no gentleman!" exclaims the little widow; "let us go down, if you like, son, and pay our respects to this one.