“Your Ladyship,” said Mr. Lovel, “so well becomes the lilies, that the roses might blush to see themselves so excelled.”
“Pray, Mr. Lovel,” said Mrs. Selwyn,” if the roses should blush, how would you find it out?”
“Egad,” cried Mr. Coverley, “I suppose they must blush, as the saying is, like a blue dog,-for they are red already.”
“Prithee, Jack,” said Lord Merton, “don’t you pretend to talk about blushes, that never knew what they were in your life.”
“My Lord,” said Mrs. Selwyn, “if experience alone can justify mentioning them, what an admirable treatise upon the subject may we not expect from your Lordship!”
“O, pray, Ma’am,” answered he, “stick to Jack Coverley,-he’s your only man; for my part, I confess I have a mortal aversion to arguments.”
“O, fie, my Lord,” cried Mrs. Selwyn, “a senator of the nation! a member of the noblest parliament in the world!-and yet neglect the art of oratory!”
“Why, faith, my Lord,” said Mr. Lovel, “I think, in general, your House is not much addicted to study; we of the Lower House have indubitably most application; and, if I did not speak before a superior power (bowing to Lord Merton) I should presume to add, we have likewise the most able speakers.”
“Mr. Lovel,” said Mrs. Selwyn, “you deserve immortality for that discovery! But for this observation, and the confession of Lord Merton, I protest that I should have supposed that a peer of the realm, and an able logician, were synonymous terms.”
Lord Merton, turning upon his heel, asked Lady Louisa if she would take the air before dinner?