ompletely gone out. What a constitutional dilemma?
The Houses must evidently meet, address the throne, and impeach its
obstinate counsellors. Clearly the right course, and party feeling ran
so high, that it was not impossible that something might be done. At any
rate, it was a capital opportunity for the House of Lords to pluck up
a little courage and take what is called, in high political jargon, the
initiative. Lord Marney at the suggestion of Mr Tadpole was quite ready
to do this; and so was the Duke of Fitz-Aquitaine, and almost the Earl
de Mowbray.

But then when all seemed ripe and ready, and there appeared a
probability of the "Independence of the House of Lords" being again the
favourite toast of conservative dinners, the oddest rumour in the world
got about, which threw such a ridicule on these great constitutional
movements in petto, that even with the Buckhounds in the distance and
Tadpole at his elbow, Lord Marney hesitated. It seemed, though of course
no one could for a moment credit it, that these wrong-headed, rebellious
ministers who would not go out, wore--petticoats!

And the great Jamaica debate that had been cooked so long, and
the anxiously expected, yet almost despaired of, defection of the
independent radical section, and the full-dressed visit to the palace
that had gladdened the heart of Tadpole--were they all to end in this?
Was Conservatism, that mighty mystery of the nineteenth century--was it
after all to be brained by a fan!

Since the farce of the "Invincibles" nothing had ever been so
ludicrously successful.

Lady Deloraine consoled herself for the "Bedchamber Plot" by declaring
that Lady St Julians was indirectly the cause of it, and that had it
not been for the anticipation of her official entrance into the royal
apartments the conspiracy would not have been more real than the
Meal-tub plot or any other of the many imaginary machinations that still
haunt the page of history, and occasionally flit about the prejudiced
memory of nations. Lady St Julians on the contrary wrung her hands over
the unhappy fate of her enthralled sovereign, deprived of her faithful
presence and obliged to put up with the society of personages of whom
she knew nothing and who called themselves the friends of her youth.
The ministers who had missed, especially those who had received their
appointments, looked as all men do when they are jilted--embarrassed
and affecting an awkward ease; as if they knew someth