est opinion of the new minister. Ashe knew
nothing; had no opinions; cared for nothing, except now and then for the
stalking of an unfamiliar bird, or the antics of the dogs, or tales of
horse-racing, of which he talked with a fervor entirely denied to those
high political topics of which Kershaw's ardent soul was full.

Again and again did the journalist put them under his nose in their most
attractive guise. In vain; Ashe would have none of them. Till suddenly a
chance word started an Indian frontier question, vastly important, and
totally unknown to the English public. Ashe casually began to talk; the
trickle became a stream, and presently he was holding forth with an
impetuosity, a knowledge, a matured and careful judgment that fairly
amazed the man beside him.

The long road, bordered by the flat fen meadows, the wide silver sky,
the gently lengthening day, all passed unnoticed. The journalist found
himself in the grip of a <i>mind</i>--strong, active, rich. He gave himself
up with docility, yet with a growing astonishment, and when they stood
once more on the steps of the house he said to his companion:

"You must have followed these matters for years. Why have you never
spoken in the House, or written anything?"

Ashe's aspect changed at once.

"What would have been the good?" he said, with his easy smile. "The
fellows who didn't know wouldn't have believed me; and the fellows who
knew didn't want telling."

A shade of impatience showed in Kershaw's aspect.

"I thought," he said, "ours was government by discussion."

Ashe laughed, and, turning on the steps, he pointed to the splendid
gardens and finely wooded park.

"Or government by country-houses--which? If you support us in this--as I
gather you will--this walk will have been worth a debate--now won't it?"

The flattered journalist smiled, and they entered the house. From the
inner hall Lord Grosville perceived them.

"Geoffrey Cliffe's arrived," he said to Ashe, as they reached him.

"Has he?" said Ashe, and turned to go up-stairs.

But Kershaw showed a lively interest. "You mean the traveller?" he asked
of his host.

"I do. As mad as usual," said the old man. "He and my niece Kitty make a
pair."

VI

When Ashe returned to the drawing-room he found it filled with the sound
of talk and laughter. But it was a talk and laughter in which the
Grosville family seemed to have itself but little part. Lady Grosville
sat stiffly on an early