The doctor, who at seventy-two is a distinguished gallant, smiles sympathetically.
“Did I not once tell you that Captain Jones, the invincible among men, is the irresistible among women!”
“Something of the sort, I think. But you have heard of the duchess and your irresistible, invincible one, had you not?”
“My dear madam, I am a diplomat,” replies the doctor, slyly. “And it is an infraction of the laws of diplomacy to tell what you hear.”
“They have been very tender at the duchess’s summer house near Brest.”
“And the husband—the Duke de Chartres!”
“A most excellent gentleman! A most admirable husband of most unimpeachable domestic manners! Believe me, I cannot laud him too highly! Every husband in Prance should copy him! He honors his wife, and—stays aboard his ship, the Saint Esprit.” After a pause the gossipy Madame Houdetot continues: “No doubt the duke considers his wife’s rank. Is the great-granddaughter of the Grande Louis to be held within those narrow lines that confine the feet of other women?”
“Who is this Mr. Adams?” asks Madame Brillon, coming up. “Is he a great man?”
Doctor Franklin glances across where the austere Mr. Adams is stiffly posing, with a final thought of impressing the sparkling Duchess de Chartres.
“Rather he is a big man,” replies the philosopher. “Like some houses, his foundations cover a deal of ground; but then he is only one story high. If you could raise Mr. Adams another story, he would be a great man.”