Mr.
Maule to a club acquaintance.

The club acquaintance was in Parliament, and looked at the matter
from a strictly parliamentary point of view. "Yes, indeed. It has
given a deal of trouble."

Mr. Maule was not parliamentary, and did not understand. "Why
trouble,--except to himself? He'll leave his Garter and
strawberry-leaves, and all his acres behind him."

"What is Gresham to do about the Exchequer when he comes in? I don't
know whom he's to send there. They talk of Bonteen, but Bonteen
hasn't half weight enough. They'll offer it to Monk, but Monk 'll
never take office again."

"Ah, yes. Planty Pall was Chancellor of the Exchequer. I suppose he
must give that up now?"

The parliamentary acquaintance looked up at the unparliamentary man
with that mingled disgust and pity which parliamentary gentlemen and
ladies always entertain for those who have not devoted their minds
to the constitutional forms of the country. "The Chancellor of the
Exchequer can't very well sit in the House of Lords, and Palliser
can't very well help becoming Duke of Omnium. I don't know whether he
can take the decimal coinage question with him, but I fear not. They
don't like it at all in the city."

"I believe I'll go and play a rubber of whist," said Mr. Maule.
He played his whist, and lost thirty points without showing the
slightest displeasure, either by the tone of his voice or by any
grimace of his countenance. And yet the money which passed from his
hands was material to him. But he was great at such efforts as these,
and he understood well the fluctuations of the whist table. The
half-crowns which he had paid were only so much invested capital.

He dined at his club this evening, and joined tables with another
acquaintance who was not parliamentary. Mr. Parkinson Seymour was
a man much of his own stamp, who cared not one straw as to any
difficulty which the Prime Minister might feel in filling the office
of Chancellor of the Exchequer. There were men by dozens ready and
willing, and no doubt able,--or at any rate, one as able as the
other,--to manage the taxes of the country. But the blue riband and
the Lord Lieutenancy of Barsetshire were important things,--which
would now be in the gift of Mr. Daubeny; and Lady Glencora would at
last be a duchess,--with much effect on Society, either good or bad.
And Planty Pall would be a duke, with very much less capability, as
Mr. Parkinson Seymour thought, for filling that great office, t