The Touchstone of Fortune by Charles Major
page 71 of 348 (20%)
page 71 of 348 (20%)
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"No, no, no!" cried the duchess. "That would be your ruin! A dog licks the hand that smites it. We're all dogs. Every failure I have known at court has come from too great a desire to please." Frances laughed uneasily, for she knew she was hearing the truth, disguised as a jest. After a moment's silence, she asked:-- "May I not at least try to please your Grace? And may I not seek your advice and thank you now and then for a reprimand?" "Yours is the first request of the sort I have ever heard from a maid of honor, and I shall take you at your word," said the duchess. "I'm not posing as the head of a morality school, but if I may, I shall try to be your guide." Lady Wentworth was almost comatose with pride--"pride on the brain" Frances afterwards called it. Presently her Grace continued seriously. "The king will make love to you on sight. If he fails in obtaining a satisfactory response, he may affect to be offended for a few days, during which time my husband may try his hand. Failing, he will smile and will withdraw to make room for Rowley's return attack. Rowley's return will be in earnest, and then will come your trial, for the whole court will fawn upon you, will lie about you, and beg your favor for them with the king." "Surely it is a delightful prospect," returned my cousin, smiling. "Oh, delightful, delightful!" ejaculated Lady Wentworth in a semilucid |
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