“I hope, Lady Hamilton, you are pleased with what we have been able to do for your son.”
“More than pleased, your Majesty,” replied Lady Hamilton. “I am deeply and eternally grateful both to yourself and to the Emperor. And if my son ever comes into his inheritance as an English gentleman there will be one Englishman who can never speak or think of your Majesty except with the liveliest gratitude.”
“I and the Emperor were peculiarly gratified at the refusal of your son and Captain St. Arnaud to accept of their parole when offered it by the King of Prussia. And the marvellous escape they made gave us as much pleasure as it did chagrin to the King of Prussia. These incidents of personal daring are of great value in keeping up the spirits of men engaged in defending us against the perpetual assaults of Prussia.”
Lady Hamilton bowed deeply, and passed on.
It was Gavin’s turn next, and to him Maria Theresa made one of those tactful speeches which, coming from a sincere heart, never failed to win the hearts of others.
“I have had great pleasure in meeting Lady Hamilton. You are fortunate in having such a mother.”
Gavin’s eyes shone so brightly and his face coloured so deeply with pleasure that he was on the point of forgetting what little court etiquette he had learned by dropping on his knee and seizing the Empress Queen’s hands and kissing them violently. Some remnant of self-control saved him, but his air and manner indicated so much joy, pride, and gratitude that a smile went around the whole circle of onlookers, not even excepting the Empress Queen and Emperor.
Lady Hamilton had thought that years of poverty and obscurity would give her a dislike for the brilliant scenes of a court levee. On the contrary, she found herself taking pleasure in a society for which her birth and education originally fitted her. She was haunted, however, by a horror of Sir Gavin Hamilton’s appearance. Great as had been his offences toward her, he was still enough of an object of interest to her to make her dread a possible meeting with him. She once had loved him well, and however deep the resentment she felt toward him, she could never regard him as an object of indifference. Gavin, manlike, could not understand this. He did not seek the places where he would find his father, but he certainly did not avoid him. As he had never known affection for his father, he could well be indifferent to meeting him.
But to Lady Hamilton’s intense relief, Sir Gavin did not appear at the levee that evening. This was not from want of courage, but Sir Gavin realized that he would be at a hopeless disadvantage. The sympathies of the court and society were with his wife and son, and, besides, he felt perfectly certain that no place or person would restrain Gavin if Sir Gavin failed in respect to Lady Hamilton; so Sir Gavin wisely went somewhere else for the early part of the evening.
Eleven o’clock was the hour when the specially favoured were to assemble at the Chancellor’s splendid house. It had just struck the hour when Gavin escorted his mother up the broad marble stairs of the Chancellery and into a cosy little drawing-room, where a choice company were assembled. St. Arnaud was there before them, and in a moment more Prince Kaunitz came in, with profuse apologies for being later than his guests.