t."

"No;--not as I did. At last he liked the power,--or rather feared the
disgrace of losing it. But he had no idea of the personal grandeur of
the place. He never understood that to be Prime Minister in England
is as much as to be an Emperor in France, and much more than being
President in America. Oh, how I did labour for him,--and how he did
scold me for it with those quiet little stinging words of his! I was
vulgar!"

"Is that a quiet word?"

"Yes;--as he used it;--and indiscreet, and ignorant, and stupid. I
bore it all, though sometimes I was dying with vexation. Now it's all
over, and here we are as humdrum as any one else. And the Beeswaxes,
and the Robys, and the Droughts, and the Pountneys, and the Lopezes,
have all passed over the scene! Do you remember that Pountney affair,
and how he turned the poor man out of the house?"

"It served him right."

"It would have served them all right to be turned out,--only they
were there for a purpose. I did like it in a way, and it makes me sad
to think that the feeling can never come again. Even if they should
have him back again, it would be a very lame affair to me then. I can
never again rouse myself to the effort of preparing food and lodging
for half the Parliament and their wives. I shall never again think
that I can help to rule England by coaxing unpleasant men. It is done
and gone, and can never come back again."

Not long after this the Duke took Mr. Monk, who had come down to
Matching for a few days, out to the very spot on which he had sat
when he indulged himself in lecturing Phineas Finn on Conservatism
and Liberalism generally, and then asked the Chancellor of the
Exchequer what he thought of the present state of public affairs. He
himself had supported Mr. Gresham's government, and did not belong
to it because he could not at present reconcile himself to filling
any office. Mr. Monk did not scruple to say that in his opinion
the present legitimate division of parties was preferable to
the Coalition which had existed for three years. "In such an
arrangement," said Mr. Monk, "there must always be a certain amount
of distrust, and such a feeling is fatal to any great work."

"I think I distrusted no one till separation came,--and when it did
come it was not caused by me."

"I am not blaming any one now," said the other; "but men who have
been brought up with opinions altogether different, even with
different instincts as to politics, who from thei