he Count
d'Artois, whom I have myself loved, will prove this. I believe that by
drawing nearer to a monarch whom he loves, and by whom he is loved, and
to a people to whose love his brilliant qualities give him so great a
right, he will, when these troubles have ceased, enjoy this portion of
his inheritance, the love which the most sensible and affectionate of
nations has vowed to the descendants of HENRI IV."

XI.

These excuses, mingled doubtless with expressions of repentance and
tears, and heightened by those attitudes and gestures, more eloquent
than words, that add so much pathos to solemn explanations, convinced
the heart if not the mind of the king; and he forgave--he excused, and
he trusted. "I am of your opinion," said he to his minister, yet a prey
to the emotion of this scene, "that the Duc d'Orleans really regrets his
past errors, and that he will do all in his power to repair the evil he
has done, and in which perhaps he has not had so great a share as we
believed."

The prince left the king's apartments reconciled with himself, and more
than ever resolved to withdraw himself from the factious party. It had
cost him but little to sacrifice his ambition, for he had none; and his
popularity of her own accord had quitted him for other men of inferior
rank and station than his own, and he could only hope to find security
and an honourable refuge at the foot of the throne, to which he was
alike guided by inclination and duty. Louis XVI. as a man had far more
influence over him than as a king, but the adulation and resentment of
the court ruined all.

The Sunday following this reconciliation, the Duc d'Orleans presented
himself at the Tuileries to pay his respects to the king and queen. It
was the day and hour of the _grandes receptions_, and crowds of
courtiers thronged the courts, the staircases, the corridors, some
hoping that fortune might yet be propitious; others, come from the
provinces to the court of their unfortunate master, drawn thither by the
double tie of misfortune and fidelity. At the sight of the Duc
d'Orleans, whose reconciliation with the king had not as yet transpired,
astonishment and horror appeared on every face, and an indignant murmur
followed the announcement of his name. The crowd opened and shrank from
him, as though his touch was odious to them. In vain did he seek one
glance of respect or welcome amongst all these gloomy visages. As be
approached the king's chamber, the court