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he made his way to the house of Sir John Denham, where he was conducted to his mistress’s apartments. When they had embraced she told him that Sir John had been strange lately, that he had sworn vengeance on her and her lover and that appearing before the King as the Holy Ghost seemed to be his idea of discomfiting them.
    James found the youthful charms of his mistress so delightful that in her company it seemed of little importance what her husband did.

     
    Sir John Denham appeared quickly to recover from his brief aberration. He begged the King’s pardon which was readily given; and the Duke of York continued his visits to Scotland Yard, a situation to which Sir John seemed to have become reconciled.
    James felt triumphant. He conducted his affairs, he believed, as successfully as his brother. Barbara Villiers created scandal enough and so did the playgirls, but he at least had chosen his mistresses from a higher social scale than the latter.
    His Duchess was angry, but that was natural. He would give way to her in some ways and she must perforce give way to him in others. For one thing, she was reading books, constantly talking with priests, and was arousing suspicions that she was leaning very close to Catholicism. That would scarcely bring her popularity and was a more serious matter than taking a mistress or two.
    James’s visits to Scotland Yard were growing more and more frequent. He was deeply involved with Margaret and now that her husband had, as he said, overcome his folly and accepted this truly natural state of affairs, there was no need for them even to be discreet. Lady Denham was the Duke’s mistress and that was an end of the matter.
    But one day when he made his way to the Denhams’ residence he was met by one of Sir John’s servants who attempted to bar his way.
    James was astounded; then it occurred to him that the fellow did not recognize him.
    But he did, for he stammered: “Your Grace … you should not go up there …”
    Should not mount the stairs to his mistress’s room when she was expecting him, when he had been there a hundred times!
    “Stand aside, fellow,” he began; then he noticed that the servant was trembling and trying to tell him something.
    “Your Grace … a terrible tragedy …”
    “Lady Denham?”
    “Your Grace … Lady Denham is … dead.”
    “Dead! It’s not possible. I saw her yesterday. How can it be?”
    “They say, Your Grace, that it was chocolate. A poisoned cup of chocolate.”
    The Duke pushed the man aside. He ran to his mistress’s room and throwing open the door stood aghast, staring at the bed.
    Several people, who were in the room, stood aside as he slowly advanced and stood looking down at his murdered mistress.

     
    The great topic of conversation at Court and in the streets was the Denham affair. Rumor ran wild. Sir John Denham had poisoned his wife because she was unfaithful to him with the Duke of York. The Countess of Rochester, another of the Duke’s mistresses, had poisoned her because of jealousy on account of the Duke of York. No matter what the rumor, the name of the Duke of York was always mentioned and because of this there was greater interest in the affair than there would otherwise have been.
    A few puritans condemned the Duke of York and the manners of the Court, but those who were in favor of the new freedom—and these were the majority—turned suddenly against Sir John Denham, who had married a young woman and murdered her, her only sin being that she was in the fashion.
    As a result, crowds gathered outside Sir John’s house brandishing sticks and knifes.
    “Come out, John Denham,” they chanted. “Let’s see how you like the same medicine that you gave to your wife.”
    When Sir John’s life was in danger as if by magic all signs of his madness disappeared. He had the rumor circulated that if he lived long enough he would give his wife a magnificent funeral at St. Margaret’s Westminster at which burned