Duke of Dorset

Little did she know of the meeting between Mornay and Sir Henry, arranged for that very morning, which had miscarried because of an untimely intervention by the watch.

The Duke of Dorset danced well.

When Mistress Clarke entered his ballroom, the tapers were sounding for a brawl.

His Grace espied her at this moment, and coming forward with an air of the grand seigneur, which many a younger man might have envied him, carried her off under the very noses of Wynne, Howard, Russell, and de Jermyn, to say nothing of Captain Ferrars, who had brought her there in his coach.

If he suspected that she would receive him with an ill grace, he did not show it, for he made no scruple to hide his open admiration as she danced along the gallery.

Twice she passed the spot where he stood, and once she looked quite through him at the blank wall behind.

But unabashed when the dance was done, he lost no time in letting the Duke of Dorset know that he wished to be presented in such a manner that recognition would be unavoidable.

With all the goodwill in the world, said his Grace.