vants had told a lie in this.
Some such conversations as those reported had passed;--but a man
doesn't lie when he exaggerates an emphasis, or even when he gives
by a tone a meaning to a man's words exactly opposite to that which
another tone would convey. Or, if he does lie in doing so, he does
not know that he lies. Mr. Rattler had gone back to his old office at
the Treasury and Mr. Roby had been forced to content himself with the
Secretaryship at the Admiralty. But, as the old Duke had said, they
were close friends, and prepared to fight together any battle which
might keep them in their present position.

Many of the cares of office the Prime Minister did succeed in
shuffling off altogether on to the shoulders of his elder friend.
He would not concern himself with the appointment of ladies, about
whom he said he knew nothing, and as to whose fitness and claims he
professed himself to be as ignorant as the office messenger. The
offers were of course made in the usual form, as though coming direct
from the Queen, through the Prime Minister;--but the selections were
in truth effected by the old Duke in council with--an illustrious
personage. The matter affected our Duke,--only in so far that he
could not get out of his mind that strange application from his own
wife. "That she should have even dreamed of it!" he would say to
himself, not yet having acquired sufficient experience of his fellow
creatures to be aware how wonderfully temptations will affect even
those who appear to be least subject to them. The town horse, used to
gaudy trappings, no doubt despises the work of his country brother;
but yet, now and again, there comes upon him a sudden desire to
plough. The desire for ploughing had come upon the Duchess, but the
Duke could not understand it.

He perceived, however, in spite of the multiplicity of his official
work, that his refusal sat heavily on his wife's breast, and that,
though she spoke no further word, she brooded over her injury. And
his heart was sad within him when he thought that he had vexed
her,--loving her as he did with all his heart, but with a heart
that was never demonstrative. When she was unhappy he was miserable,
though he would hardly know the cause of his misery. Her ridicule and
raillery he could bear, though they stung him; but her sorrow, if
ever she were sorrowful, or her sullenness, if ever she were sullen,
upset him altogether. He was in truth so soft of heart that he could
not