The Duke had been but the son of a country gentleman,
when he came to court as plain John Churchill. He had climbed the
ladder of fame and fortune fast; but he remembered his former
friends, and never forgot to salute them in company. His charm of
manner was felt by all who came in contact with him. However
worried or hard pressed, he never let his irritation be seen, and
he never appeared in haste. He was as suave and gentle in manner
amongst the humbler sort of company as in the presence of royalty
itself; and his clear glance passed quickly from face to face as he
talked, as though he were secretly taking the measure of men,
although his languor of manner never varied.
More than once, as he walked hither and thither through the rooms,
had Tom's glance crossed his. Possibly it was the young man's great
height which took the eye of the soldier in the midst of this
crowd, where smirking fops and bending courtiers predominated. Tom
could not be accused of bowing or smirking. He remained the whole
time leaning back against the wall in the same place; his face
grave; his eyes following the movements of this or that person; his
lips silent, because he could not frame them to the jargon of
tongues and the stilted phrases of the day, and besides he had no
acquaintances in this gay throng, save only Lord Claud himself.
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