“Indeed! So then the government of Chelsea is to give away. Oh, that fact explains the presence of so many veteran generals! I really was puzzled to conceive what martial ardor stirred them.” “You are severe, my Lord,” said Darcy; “I hope you are unjust.” “One is rarely so in attributing a selfish motive anywhere,” said the young nobleman, sarcastically. “But, Taylor, can't you arrange this affair? Let me present my friend meanwhile: The Knight of Gwynne--Colonel Taylor.” Before Taylor could more than return the Knight's salutation he was summoned to attend his Royal Highness; and at the same moment the folding-doors at the end of the apartment were thrown open, and the reception began. Whether the sarcasm of Lord Castlereagh was correct, or that a nobler motive was in operation, the number of officers was very great; and although the Duke rarely addressed more than a word or two to each, a considerable time elapsed before Lord Castlereagh, with the Knight following, had entered the room. “It is against a positive order of his Royal Highness, my Lord,” said an aide-de-camp, barring the passage; “none but field-officers, and in full uniform, are received by his Royal Highness.” Lord Castlereagh whispered something, and endeavored to move on; but again the other interposed, saying, “Indeed, my Lord, I'm deeply grieved at it, but I cannot--I dare not transgress my orders.” The Duke, who had been up to this moment engaged in conversing with a group, suddenly turned, and perceiving that the presentations were not followed up, said, “Well, gentlemen, I am waiting.” Then recognizing Lord Castlereagh, he added, “Another time, my Lord, another time: this morning belongs to the service, and the color of your coat excludes you.” “I ask your Royal Highness's pardon,” said Lord Castlereagh, in a tone of great deference, while he made the apology an excuse for advancing a step into the room. “I have but just left the Council, and was anxious to inform you that your Royal Highness's suggestions have been fully adopted.” “Indeed! is that the case?” said the Duke, with an elated look, while he drew his Lordship into the recess of a window. The intelligence, to judge from the Duke's expression, must have been both important and satisfactory, for he looked intensely eager and pleased by turns. “And so,” said he, aloud, “they really have determined on Egypt? Well, my Lord, you have brought me the best tidings I 've heard for many a day.” “And like all bearers of good despatches,” said Lord Castlereagh, catching up the tone of the Duke, “I prefer a claim to your Royal Highness's patronage.” “If you look for Chelsea, my Lord, you are just five minutes too late. Old Sir Harry Belmore has this instant got it.” “I could have named as old and perhaps a not less distinguished soldier to your Royal Highness, with this additional claim,--a claim I must say, your Royal Highness never disregards”--