been written, and base would be
the pen that would attempt to picture it in detail.

Take off thy shoes, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.

The Duke and Duchess admired Scheffer, but never quite forgot that he was
in their employ, and all their attempts to treat him as an equal revealed
the effort. It was as though they had said: "You are lowly bred, and work
with your hands, and receive a weekly wage, but these things are nothing
to us. We will not think less of you, for see, do we not invite you to
our board?"

The aristocracy of birth is very seldom willing to acknowledge the
aristocracy of brain. And the man of brains, if lowly born, has a
mild indifference, at least, for all the gilt and gaud of royalty. The
Prince of Wales does not recognize the nobility of Israel Zangwill; and
Israel Zangwill asks in bored indifference, "Who--who is this man you
call H. R. H.?"

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