“Not even for a thousand pounds, Rowley?” asked Crofts.

“Ah, well, of course, a thousand pounds is—­well, it is a thousand pounds,” answered the king, laughing.

It may be surmised from the king’s words and manner that he intended taking no steps to bring the offenders to justice, and that he knew who they were.  The London people soon discovered his real intent and began in earnest on their own account.

When the net began to draw too closely about the culprits, the king interfered and gave the London courts of justice to understand that further proceedings against Wentworth, Crofts, and Berkeley would cause a royal frown.  The Londoners were not willing to drop the matter, even at the risk of royal displeasure, so the king caused it to be hinted to the London officials that Crofts, Berkeley, and Wentworth were innocent, but that possibly Hamilton was the guilty man.  No mention was made of Churchill, he being at the time the Duke of York’s most intimate friend.

Hamilton was away from home and was friendless, all of which gave his accusers the courage to fix suspicion on him, though they did so without taking the responsibility of making the charge themselves.

So it was that when George returned to England, several weeks later, he found trouble awaiting him in many forms.

* * * * *

My cousin’s presentation to the duchess was made in private and was a success in every respect.  I asked Mary Hamilton to accompany Lady Wentworth, Frances, and myself on this occasion, and she graciously consented.  Lady Wentworth insisted on making the presentation, so one morning I called for my cousin and her chaperone, took the Wentworth barge at Blackfriars water stairs, and proceeded by river up to Westminster stairs, where we disembarked.  I left my companions in a bookstall in the Abbey and went to fetch Mary, who lived near by in a house called Little Hamilton House, under the shadow of Great Hamilton House, which was the home of Count Anthony.

Mary was waiting for me, so she and I hastened to the bookstall, took up Frances and Lady Wentworth, went back to the barge, and then by water to Whitehall Garden stairs.  There we left the river, walked to the Palace, and proceeded immediately to the parlor of her Grace, the Duchess of York, whom we met by appointment.

When we entered her Grace’s parlor, she rose, came to meet us, paused for a moment, gave one glance to Frances, and, without a word of presentation, offered her hand to my cousin, saying:—­

“I need no introduction to Mistress Jennings.  Her beauty has been heralded, and I know her.  I understand she wishes to do me the grace of becoming one of my maids of honor?”

“Yes, madam,” returned Frances, kneeling and kissing her Grace’s hand.  “I hope you may do me the grace of accepting my poor services.”

“Oh, do not kneel to me here among ourselves,” said the duchess, smiling graciously.  “It is you who grant the favor, and, without more ado, I heartily welcome you to our family.”