s easy post.
Then the country was governed for two years by all its ablest men, who,
by the end of that term, had succeeded, by their coalesced genius, in
reducing that country to a state of desolation and despair. "I did not
think it would have lasted even so long," said Lady Montfort; "but then
I was acquainted with their mutual hatreds and their characteristic
weaknesses. What is to happen now? Somebody must be found of commanding
private character and position, and with as little damaged a public one
as in this wreck of reputations is possible. I see nobody but Sidney
Wilton. Everybody likes him, and he is the only man who could bring
people together."

And everybody seemed to be saying the same thing at the same time. The
name of Sidney Wilton was in everybody's mouth. It was unfortunate that
he had been a member of a defunct ministry, but then it had always been
understood that he had always disapproved of all their measures. There
was not the slightest evidence of this, but everybody chose to believe
it.

Sidney Wilton was chagrined with life, and had become a martyr to the
gout, which that chagrin had aggravated; but he was a great gentleman,
and too chivalric to refuse a royal command when the Sovereign was
in distress. Sidney Wilton became Premier, and the first colleague
he recommended to fill the most important post after his own, the
Secretaryship of State for Foreign Affairs, was Mr. Ferrars.

"It ought to last ten years," said Lady Montfort. "I see no danger
except his health. I never knew a man so changed. At his time of life
five years ought to make no difference in a man. I cannot believe he
is the person who used to give us those charming parties at Gaydene.
Whatever you may say, Endymion, I feel convinced that something must
have passed between your sister and him. Neither of them ever gave me a
hint of such a matter, or of the possibility of its ever happening, but
feminine instinct assures me that something took place. He always had
the gout, and his ancestors have had the gout for a couple of centuries;
and all prime ministers have the gout. I dare say you will not escape,
darling, but I hope it will never make you look as if you had just lost
paradise, or, what would be worst, become the last man."

Lady Montfort was right. The ministry was strong and it was popular.
There were no jealousies in it; every member was devoted to his chief,
and felt that he was rightly the chief, whereas, as Lady