“Oh, my mother,” he cried. “To think what youth and beauty were yours when sorrow came to you! To think that I, your child, never before saw you except in the clothes of work and poverty! I feel now as I never felt before the terrible hardship of your lot.”
“But the worst is over,” replied Lady Hamilton; “and remember, I always had you.”
“Yes, to feed and clothe; to eat up all you could earn; to wear out the poor garments you could afford to buy me.”
“At least, all you had was honestly earned. Let us be thankful that you lived at no man’s grudging table and wore no one’s cast-offs. That is why, after so many years of work and poverty, we are still able to take our stand among our equals.”
As Lady Hamilton spoke with so much spirit and dignity, it occurred to St. Arnaud that the man who could desert such a woman must be very perverse or very bad.
St. Arnaud handed Lady Hamilton into the hired carriage that was to take her and Gavin to the palace, saying he would follow them as soon as he could dispose of some letters he must have ready for the next post to Paris.
As Lady Hamilton and Gavin walked together through the splendid saloons of the Imperial Court none there showed more dignity and composure. Lady Hamilton was the only woman present who wore no jewels, and this absence of ornament made her conspicuous. She was, however, well fitted by her splendid dignity and the calm and unruffled manner of an English gentlewoman to stand the scrutiny of the hundreds of eyes levelled at her. The universal verdict was the same as St. Arnaud’s in respect to Sir Gavin Hamilton. Gavin, resplendent in his gorgeous, white uniform, looked about him with sparkling eyes of triumph, which said plainly to all: “This is my mother. Have I not a right to be proud of her?” Many persons stopped and spoke with them while they were finding their place in line. Among them was Prince Kaunitz. The Chancellor ever had an eye to grace and dignity in a woman, and within a few minutes of being presented to Lady Hamilton he whispered to her and Gavin:
“Will you do me the honour to sup at my house after the levee?”
Lady Hamilton accepted with politeness, and Gavin with a frank delight he could not conceal. These little supper parties at the Chancellor’s house were among the most agreeable and distinguished parties in Vienna. Only a small number of persons, more eminent for talents than rank, and the best among the foreign visitors at Vienna, were asked to them. To be invited once gave the entrée to any of them. Gavin had never been bidden before, and he knew very well that he was indebted to his mother’s personal charm for being invited at all.
When their turn came to be ushered into the presence of the Empress Queen, Lady Hamilton showed to great advantage. Unabashed by Maria Theresa’s splendid presence, she, nevertheless, did homage to so much greatness united with all the attractions of a charming and lovable woman. The Empress Queen’s first remark was to say, with slight but unmistakable emphasis on the words, “Lady Hamilton”: