As for Mr. Calvert,
that confession brought no smile to his lips, and, though he said
nothing, he felt a sudden rush of pity for the unhappy lady, neglected
and unloved despite her great position. After all, duchesses are but
women and must love and suffer and be content or miserable like common
mortals, and men should be the last to blame them for that divine
necessity of their beings--that of loving and being loved.
"She has heard much of you, Ned," went on Mr. Morris, "from Madame de
Chastellux, from Lafayette, and lately from myself, and has expressed
her desire to see you. I need not tell you that such a wish is a command
and so you must even go and pay your respects to royalty, my boy," and
he laughed as he clapped the young man on the shoulder.
That very evening Mr. Morris carried him off to the Palais Royal to the
apartments of Madame de Chastellux, where he despatched a message to the
Duchess to the effect that "Monsieur Morris, accompagne par Monsieur
Calvert, visitent Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans chez Madame de
Chastellux." After a few moments of waiting one of the Duchess's men
came with the request that Madame de Chastellux should bring the two
gentlemen to her apartments.
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