range to say, he absolutely believed it. In
truth, Sowerby had been so completely the winning horse at the late
meeting, that both Lord Lufton and Robarts were inclined to believe
almost anything he said;--which was not always the case with either
of them.

CHAPTER XX

Harold Smith in the Cabinet

For a few days the whole Harold Smith party held their heads very
high. It was not only that their man had been made a Cabinet
minister; but a rumour had got abroad that Lord Brock, in selecting
him, had amazingly strengthened his party, and done much to cure the
wounds which his own arrogance and lack of judgement had inflicted
on the body politic of his Government. So said the Harold-Smithians,
much elated. And when we consider what Harold had himself achieved,
we need not be surprised that he himself was somewhat elated also. It
must be a proud day for any man when he first walks into a Cabinet.
But when a humble-minded man thinks of such a phase of life, his
mind becomes lost in wondering what a Cabinet is. Are they gods that
attend there or men? Do they sit on chairs, or hang about on clouds?
When they speak, is the music of the spheres audible in their
Olympian mansion, making heaven drowsy with its harmony? In what way
do they congregate? In what order do they address each other? Are the
voices of all the deities free and equal? Is plodding Themis from
the Home Department, or Ceres from the Colonies, heard with as rapt
attention as powerful Pallas of the Foreign Office, the goddess that
is never seen without her lance and helmet? Does our Whitehall Mars
make eyes there at bright young Venus of the Privy Seal, disgusting
that quaint tinkering Vulcan, who is blowing his bellows at our
Exchequer, not altogether unsuccessfully? Old Saturn of the Woolsack
sits there mute, we will say, a relic of other days, as seated in
this divan. The hall in which he rules is now elsewhere. Is our
Mercury of the Post Office ever ready to fly nimbly from globe to
globe, as great Jove may order him, while Neptune, unaccustomed to
the waves, offers needful assistance to the Apollo of the India
Board? How Juno sits apart, glum and huffy, uncared for, Council
President though she be, great in name, but despised among gods--that
we can guess. If Bacchus and Cupid share Trade and the Board of Works
between them, the fitness of things will have been as fully consulted
as is usual. And modest Diana of the Petty Bag, latest summoned to