The servant bowed and left the studio, while Sir Godfrey arranged the chair on the dais for his new sitter, and placed the half-finished portrait of the Duchess on his easel. He had scarcely done so before the rings of the _portière_ were rattling, and the Duchess of Marlborough entered, attired for the sitting. How she looked on that day, the painter has by his art enabled all succeeding generations to learn. Sir Godfrey Kneller's portrait of the Duchess is, perhaps, his most characteristic work. If the distinction which it possesses in every feature was scarcely shared by the original in the same degree, there was still sufficient character in the face of the great lady to make it profoundly interesting, especially to so close an observer as Sir Godfrey Kneller. “Ah, my dear Kneller,” cried Her Grace, as the painter advanced to greet her with bowed head, “I am even before my appointed hour to-day. That glance of sad reproach which you cast at your timepiece when I last came hither--though only half an hour late, I swear--had its effect upon me.” “Her Grace of Marlborough is one of those rare ones for whom it might reasonably be expected that the sun would stand still,” said the painter. “As it did once at the command of the Hebrew general? Ah, my Kneller, what a pity it is that a certain great General of the moderns cannot make his commands respected in the same direction.” “His Grace has no need to supplement his own generalship by--by--” “By the aid of heaven, you would say? By the Lord, Sir Godfrey,'t is rather the aid of the opposite power our generalissimo would invoke, if taken at a disadvantage.” “It would be impossible to conceive an incident so remarkable as His Grace taken at a disadvantage.” “I would fain believe you to be right, friend Kneller. Yes, I have not once caught him tripping. But that, you may say, is not so much because His Grace does not trip, as because his generalship is too subtle for such an one as I.” “Nay, nay, madam; so ungenteel a thought could never be entertained by one who has the privilege of knowing the Duke and of seeing the Duchess.” “Vastly prettily spoken, Sir Godfrey; and with the air of a courtier, too; but, unlike t' other things of the Court, there is truth in your words. Look you, Kneller, there's the slut who calls herself Mistress Barry--she carries half the town away captive at her chariot-wheels--” she pointed to the portrait of Mrs. Barry. “But think you that her fascinations would have power to prevail against my lord the Duke? Nay, adamant is as snow compared to his demeanour when the wretch is moving all hearts within the playhouse. Have not I found him sitting with closed eyes while the woman was flaunting it about the stage, and men's swords were ready to fly from their scabbards at the throats of them that had got a soft look from her?” “Is 't possible?”