“I will not,” she returned him, “make use of reproaches which would disgrace myself; still less will I endeavour to excuse frailties in myself which nothing can justify, since your constancy for me deprives me of all defence.” Her ladyship, you see, had a considerable gift of sarcasm.
“In that case, may I ask you why you have come?”
“To open your eyes. Because I cannot bear that you should be made the jest of your own Court.”
“Madam!”
“Ah! You didn’t know, of course, that you are being laughed at for the gross manner in which you are being imposed upon by the Stewart’s affectations, any more than you know that whilst you are denied admittance to her apartments, under the presence of some indisposition, the Duke of Richmond is with her now.”
“That is false,” he was beginning, very indignantly.
“I do not desire you to take my word for it. If you will follow me, you will no longer be the dupe of a false prude, who makes you act so ridiculous a part.”
She took him, still half-resisting, by the hand, and in silence led him, despite his reluctance, back by the way he had so lately come. Outside her rival’s door she left him, but she paused at the end of the gallery to make sure that he had entered.
Within he found himself confronted by several of Miss Stewart’s chambermaids, who respectfully barred his way, one of them informing him scarcely above a whisper that her mistress had been very ill since his Majesty left, but that, being gone to bed, she was, God be thanked, in a very fine sleep.
“That I must see,” said the King. And, since one of the women placed herself before the door of the inner room, his Majesty unceremoniously took her by the shoulders and put her aside.