But love is greater than man-made titles, and when was there ever a difference in station able to separate hearts that throbbed only for each other?

Possibly even the stern old Duke might have relented and given his blessing were it not that events of mighty importance came seething across the face of France, and duties to his country outweighed the duties to his daughter.

On the Thirtieth day of July, Eighteen Hundred Thirty, Ary Scheffer was at the house of his mother in Paris.  A hurried knock came at the door, and Ary answered it in person.  There on the threshold stood M. Thiers.

“Oh, Scheffer! it is you, how fortunate! you are a member of the household of Orleans, and I have a most important message for the Duke.  You must go with me and deliver it to him.”

“I see,” said Scheffer; “the Convention has named the Duke as King of France, and we are to notify him.”

“Exactly so,” said Thiers.

Horses were at the door:  they mounted and rode away.  The streets were barricaded, so carriages were out of the question, but Scheffer and Thiers leaped the barricades, and after several minor mishaps found themselves safely out of Paris.

The call was not entirely unexpected on the part of the Duke.  Scheffer addressed him as “Le Roi,” and this told all.

The Duke hesitated, but finally decided to accept the mission, fraught with such mighty import.  He started in disguise for Paris that night on foot.

At the back entrance of the Palais Royal stood Ary Scheffer, and saw Louis Philippe mingle with the crowd, unrecognized—­then pass into the palace—­this palace that was his birthplace.

The next day Louis appeared with Lafayette on a balcony of the Hotel de Ville, and these two embraced each other in sight of the multitude.

It is not for me to write a history of those troublous times, but suffice it to say that the “Citizen King” ruled France probably as well as any other man could have done.  His task was a most difficult one, for he had to be both king and citizen—­to please Royalist and Populist alike.

This sudden turn of the political kaleidoscope was a pivotal point in the life of Ary Scheffer.  So long as the Duke of Orleans was a simple country gentleman, Scheffer was the intimate friend of the family, but how could the King of France admit into his family circle a mere low-born painter?  Certainly not they who are descended from kings!

Orders were issued by the government to Scheffer to paint certain pictures, and vouchers reached him from official sources, but he was made to understand that friendship with the household of a king was not for him.  Possibly he had been too much mixed up with the people in a political way!  The favor of the populace is a thing monarchs jealously note, as mariners on a lee shore watch the wind.

The father of Louis Philippe was descended from a brother of Louis the Great, while on his mother’s side he was a direct descendant of the great monarch and Madame de Montespan.  Such an inbred claim to royalty was something of which to boast, but at the same time Louis Philippe was painfully sensitive as to the blot on the ’scutcheon.