“Not at all! you can’t get drunk in a better cause, I’d get drunk myself’ if it was not for the ball. Here, champagne! another glass for the philosopher! I keep sober for Mary.”
“O, your royal highness,” cried Mr. de Luc, gaining courage as he drank, “you will make me quite droll of it if you make me go on,—quite droll!”
“So much the better! so much the better! it will do you a monstrous deal of good. Here, another glass of champagne for the queen’s philosopher!”
Mr. de Luc obeyed, and the duke then addressed Mrs. Schwellenberg’s George. “Here! you! you! why, where is my carriage? run and see, do you hear?”
Off hurried George, grinning irrepressibly.
“If it was not for that deuced tailor, I would not stir. I shall dine at the Queen’s house on Monday, Miss Goldsworthy; I shall come to dine with the princess royal. I find she does not go to Windsor with the queen.”
The queen meant to spend one day at Windsor, on account of a review which carried the king that way.
Some talk then ensued upon the duke’s new carriage, which they all agreed to be the most beautiful that day, at court. I had not seen it, which, to me, was some impediment against praising it.