“Oh!” said the queen-mother, with a melancholy arising from reflection, “never tyrannize over a wife—never behave too haughtily or imperiously towards your own. A woman unwillingly convinced is unconvinced.”
“What is to be done, then?—I will consult my friends about it.”
“Yes, your double-dealing advisers, your Chevalier de Lorraine—your De Wardes. Intrust the conduct of this affair to me. You wish the Duke of Buckingham to leave, do you not?”
“As soon as possible, madame.”
“Send the duke to me, then; smile upon your wife, behave to her, to the king, to every one, as usual. But follow no advice but mine. Alas! I too well know what any household comes to that is troubled by advisers.”
“You shall be obeyed, madame.”
“And you will be satisfied at the result. Send the duke to me.”
“That will not be difficult.”
“Where do you suppose him to be?”
“At my wife’s door, whose levee he is probably awaiting.”