not large, but they were lively, and capable of
expressing whatever she pleased.'[12] So far for her person; but De
Grammont was, it seems, weary of external charms: it was the
intellectual superiority that riveted his feelings, whilst his
connoisseurship in beauty was satisfied that he had never yet seen any
one so perfect.

[Illustration: DE GRAMMONT'S MEETING WITH LA BELLE HAMILTON.]

'Her mind,' he says, 'was a proper companion for such a form: she did
not endeavour to shine in conversation by those sprightly sallies which
only puzzle, and with still greater care she avoided that affected
solemnity in her discourses which produces stupidity; but without any
eagerness to talk, she just said what she ought, and no more. She had
an admirable discernment in distinguishing between solid and false wit;
and far from making an ostentatious display of her abilities, she was
reserved, though very just in her decisions. Her sentiments were always
noble, and even lofty to the highest extent, when there was occasion;
nevertheless, she was less prepossessed with her own merit than is
usually the case with those who have so much. Formed as we have
described, she could not fail of commanding love; but so far was she
from courting it, that she was scrupulously nice with respect to those
whose merit might entitle them to form any pretensions to her.'

Born in 1641, Elizabeth--for such was the Christian name of this lovely
and admirable woman--was scarcely in her twentieth year when she first
appeared at Whitehall. Sir Peter Lely was at that time painting the
Beauties of the Court, and had done full justice to the intellectual and
yet innocent face that riveted De Grammont. He had depicted her with her
rich dark hair, of which a tendril or two fell on her ivory forehead,
adorned at the back with large pearls, under which a gauze-like texture
was gathered up, falling over the fair shoulders like a veil: a full
corsage, bound by a light band either of ribbon or of gold lace,
confining, with a large jewel or button, the sleeve on the shoulder,
disguised somewhat the exquisite shape. A frill of fine cambric set off,
whilst in whiteness it scarce rivalled, the shoulder and neck.

The features of this exquisite face are accurately described by De
Grammont, as Sir Peter has painted them. 'The mouth does not smile, but
seems ready to break out into a smile. Nothing is sleepy, but everything
is soft, sweet, and innocent in that face so bea