But could he injure the man who has made him a Duke by a lucky
_coup-d'epee_? No, no. Let him cross the frontier; and, when he is out of
reach, what thundering denunciations will not the possessor of the dukedom
fulminate against the killer of his cousin! It is shocking to perceive how
intimately acquainted old Scribe must be with manners, customs, and
feelings, as they exist at Court.
The necessary passports are placed before the Queen for her signature
(perhaps her Spanish Majesty can't afford clerks); but when she perceives
whom they threaten to banish from behind her chair, she declines honouring
them with her autograph. The Duchess thus learns her secret. "She, too,
love Henrico? Well I never!" About this time a tornado of jealousy may be
expected; but court etiquette prevents it from bursting; and the Duchess
reserves her revenge, the Queen sits down to her embroidery frame, and one
is puzzled to know what is coming next.
This puzzle was not on Monday night long in being resolved. _Ollivarez_
entered, and a child in the gallery commenced crying with that persevering
quality of tone which threatens long endurance.
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