es it a literary flavour."

"I've heard of him," said Mrs. Phillips. "He's worth reading, isn't he?"

"Well, he talked more amusingly than he wrote," explained Joan. "Get
Boswell's Life of him. Or I'll lend you mine," she added, "if you'll be
careful of it. You'll find all the passages marked that are best worth
remembering. At least, I think so."

"Thanks," said Mrs. Phillips. "You see, as the wife of a public man, I
get so little time for study."

"Is it settled yet?" asked Joan. "Are they going to make room for him in
the Cabinet?

"I'm afraid so," answered Mrs. Phillips. "Oh, of course, I want him to,"
she corrected herself. "And he must, of course, if the King insists upon
it. But I wish it hadn't all come with such a whirl. What shall I have
to do, do you think?"

Joan was pouring out the tea. "Oh, nothing," she answered, "but just be
agreeable to the right people. He'll tell you who they are. And take
care of him."

"I wish I'd taken more interest in politics when I was young," said Mrs.
Phillips. "Of course, when I was a girl, women weren't supposed to."

"Do you know, I shouldn't worry about them, if I were you," Joan advised
her. "Let him forget them when he's with you. A man can have too much
of a good thing," she laughed.

"I wonder if you're right," mused Mrs. Phillips. "He does often say that
he'd just as soon I didn't talk about them."

Joan shot a glance from over her cup. The poor puzzled face was staring
into the fire. Joan could almost hear him saying it.

"I'm sure I am," she said. "Make home-coming a change to him. As you
said yourself the other evening. It's good for him to get away from it
all, now and then."

"I must try," agreed Mrs. Phillips, looking up. "What sort of things
ought I to talk to him about, do you think?"

Joan gave an inward sigh. Hadn't the poor lady any friends of her own.
"Oh, almost anything," she answered vaguely: "so long as it's cheerful
and non-political. What used you to talk about before he became a great
man?"

There came a wistful look into the worried eyes. "Oh, it was all so
different then," she said. "'E just liked to--you know. We didn't seem
to 'ave to talk. 'E was a rare one to tease. I didn't know 'ow clever
'e was, then."

It seemed a difficult case to advise upon. "How long have you been
married?" Joan asked.

"Fifteen years," she answered. "I was a bit older than 'im. But I've
never looked my age, they t