ook forward to it with much interest."

After Easter, Lord Roehampton said to Endymion that a question ought
to be put on a subject of foreign policy of importance, and on which
he thought the ministry were in difficulties; "and I think you might as
well ask it, Endymion. I will draw up the question, and you will give
notice of it. It will be a reconnaissance."

The notice of this question was the first time Endymion opened his
mouth in the House of Commons. It was an humble and not a very hazardous
office, but when he got on his legs his head swam, his heart beat so
violently, that it was like a convulsion preceding death, and though
he was only on his legs for a few seconds, all the sorrows of his life
seemed to pass before him. When he sate down, he was quite surprised
that the business of the House proceeded as usual, and it was only after
some time that he became convinced that no one but himself was conscious
of his sufferings, or that he had performed a routine duty otherwise
than in a routine manner.

The crafty question, however, led to some important consequences. When
asked, to the surprise of every one the minister himself replied to it.
Waldershare, with whom Endymion dined at Bellamy's that day, was in no
good humour in consequence.

When Lord Roehampton had considered the ministerial reply, he said to
Endymion, "This must be followed up. You must move for papers. It will
be a good opportunity for you, for the House is up to something being
in the wind, and they will listen. It will be curious to see whether the
minister follows you. If so, he will give me an opening."

Endymion felt that this was the crisis of his life. He knew the subject
well, and he had all the tact and experience of Lord Roehampton to guide
him in his statement and his arguments. He had also the great feeling
that, if necessary, a powerful arm would support him. It was about a
week before the day arrived, and Endymion slept very little that week,
and the night before his motion not a wink. He almost wished he was
dead as he walked down to the House in the hope that the exercise might
remedy, or improve, his languid circulation; but in vain, and when his
name was called and he had to rise, his hands and feet were like ice.

Lady Roehampton and Lady Montfort were both in the ventilator, and he
knew it.

It might be said that he was sustained by his utter despair. He felt
so feeble and generally imbecile, that he had not vitality