“Miss Goose,” said the Merry Monarch, “have you had an ice yet?”
“I have had seven,” said Araminta, Duchess of Dorset.
“Pink ones?” asked the Second Charles.
“Five were pink,” said the Duchess, “one was yellow, and one was green. But I think that pink ones are almost the nicest.”
“I concur,” said the Second Charles.
After supper, before dancing was resumed, some incautious person, after gazing upon Gainsborough’s masterpiece and subjecting it to some admiring if unlearned remarks, pulled aside the crimson curtain which hid from view Jim Lascelles’ half-finished copy.
“Oho!” said the incautious one in a loud voice, “what have we here? To be sure, a Sargent in the making! Only Sargent could paint that hair.”
The attention of others was attracted.
“I should say it is a Whistler,” said a second critic.
“A Sargent decidedly,” said a third. “Only he could paint that hair.”