vivacity to a tall, thin man, beside her, directed her attention, and
that of her whole party, in a fixed and concentrated stare, to the
imperilled minister. With a dignified smile Lord Bolingbroke then put
his hand to his heart, and bowed profoundly; the Duchess looked a little
abashed, but returned the courtesy quickly and slightly, and renewed her
conversation.

"Faith, my Lord," cried the young gentleman who had before spoken, "you
managed that well! No reproach is like that which we clothe in a smile,
and present with a bow."

"I am happy," said Lord Bolingbroke, "that my conduct receives the grave
support of a son of my political opponent."

"/Grave/ support, my Lord! you are mistaken: never apply the epithet
grave to anything belonging to Philip Wharton. But, in sober earnest, I
have sat long enough with you to terrify all my friends, and must now
show my worshipful face in another part of the house. Count Devereux,
will you come with me to the Duchess's?"

"What! the Duchess's immediately after Lord Bolingbroke's!--the Whig
after the Tory: it would be as trying to one's assurance as a change
from the cold bath to the hot to one's constitution."

"Well, and what so delightful as a trial in which one triumphs? and a
change in which one does not lose even one's countenance?"

"Take care, my Lord," said Bolingbroke, laughing; "those are dangerous
sentiments for a man like you, to whom the hopes of two great parties
are directed, to express so openly, even on a trifle and in a jest."