great Earl of Dover, that he never for a
moment resented Sir Marmaduke's sneers when they were directed against
his obvious, growing love for Sue.
Remember that he had no cause to suspect Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse of
any nefarious projects or of any evil intentions with regard to himself,
when he told him that together they would go this night to the house of
an old friend, Mrs. Endicott, where they would derive much pleasure and
entertainment.
They had spent the previous night at the Swan Inn in Fleet Street and
the day in visiting the beautiful sights of London, which caused the
young lad from the country to open wide eyes in astonishment and
pleasure.
Sir Marmaduke had been peculiarly gracious, even taking Richard with him
to the Frenchman's house in Queen's Head Alley, where that curious
beverage called coffee was dispensed and where several clever people met
and discussed politics in a manner which was vastly interesting to the
young man.
Then when the evening began to draw in, and Lambert thought it high time
to go to bed, for 'twas a pity to burn expensive candles longer than was
necessary, Sir Marmaduke had astonished his secretary by telling him
that he must now clean and tidy himself for they would proceed to the
house of a great lady named Mistress Endicott--a friend of the ex-Queen
Henrietta Maria and a lady of peculiar virtues and saintliness, who
would give them vast and pleasing entertainment.
Lambert was only too ready to obey. Enjoyment came naturally to him
beneath his Quaker bringing-up: his youth, good-health and pure,
naturally noble intellect, all craved companionship, with its attendant
pleasures and joys. He himself could not afterwards have said exactly
how he had pictured in his mind the saintly lady--friend of the unhappy
Queen--whom he was to meet this night.
Certainly Mistress Endicott, with her red face surmounted by masses of
curls that were obviously false, since they did not match the rest of
her hair, was not the ideal paragon of all the virtues, and when he was
first made to greet her, a strange, unreasoning instinct seemed to draw
him away from her, to warn him to fly from this noisy company, from the
sight of those many faces, all unnaturally flushed, and from the sounds
of those strange oaths which greeted his ears from every side.
A great wave of thankfulness came over him that, his gracious
lady--innocent, tender, beautiful Lady Sue, had not come to London with
her
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