They trembled to be ill, lest the little lady should be upon them with her decoctions and her pills.
A hundred years back there were scarce any towns in Virginia; the establishments of the gentry were little villages in which they and their vassals dwelt.

Rachel Esmond ruled like a little queen in Castlewood; the princes, her neighbours, governed their estates round about.

Many of these were rather needy potentates, living plentifully but in the roughest fashion, having numerous domestics whose liveries were often ragged; keeping open houses, and turning away no stranger from their gates; proud, idle, fond of all sorts of field sports as became gentlemen of good lineage.

The widow of Castlewood was as hospitable as her neighbours, and a better economist than most of them.

More than one, no doubt, would have had no objection to share her life-interest in the estate, and supply the place of papa to her boys.
But where was the man good enough for a person of her ladyship's exalted birth?
There was a talk of making the Duke of Cumberland viceroy, or even king, over America.