"Madam, there have been but three beautiful women in the world; the first was Helen of Troy, the second was Maria Lady Coventry, and the third is----"
"Miss Elizabeth Linley?" cried the duchess when George Selwyn made a pause--a pause that invited a question--the pause of the professed _raconteur_ who fully understands the punctuation of a sentence. "What? Miss Elizabeth Linley?"
"Madam, the third is her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire," said Selwyn with a bow.
"Oh, sir," cried the duchess, "you are unkind to offer me such a compliment when I am enclosed in my chair. I protest that you have no right to take me at such a disadvantage. Pray consider that I have sunk to the ground at your feet in acknowledgment of your politeness. But pray note the silence of Mr. Walpole."
"'Tis the silence of acquiescence, madam," said Selwyn.
"Pray let Mr. Walpole speak for himself, Selwyn," said the duchess. "As a rule he is able to speak not only for himself, but for every one else."
"'Twas but the verse of Mr. Dryden which came into my mind when George spoke of his three beauties, duchess," said Walpole:
"'The force of Nature could no further go; To make a third she joined the other two.'"
"'Tis the compliment of a scholar as well as a wit," said her Grace--"a double-edged sword, keen as well as polished, which I vow there is no resisting. What return can I make for such favours--a sweet nosegay of favours in full bloom and tied with a riband of the finest brocade? The flowers of compliment are ever more welcome when tied with a riband of wit."
"Nay, sir, that is not a reply to my question," said the duchess. "I asked you what return I can make for your compliments?"
"True, madam, and I reply, 'O Queen, live for ever!' in other words, give Mr. Gainsborough an order to paint your portrait," said Mr. Selwyn.
"Ah, now 'tis Mr. Gainsborough whom you are complimenting," said the duchess. "Alas! that we poor women must be dependent for immortality upon the pigments of a painter!"
"Your Grace is in the happy position of being independent of his pigments except on his canvas," said Walpole. "But let me join my entreaty to Mr. Selwyn's. Give to posterity a reflection of the privilege which is enjoyed by us."