. There was great reason to doubt the man at the helm. But
nevertheless he had been lucky. There is no merit in a public man
like success! But now, when the evil days were wellnigh over, came
the question whether he had not been too successful. When a man has
nailed fortune to his chariot-wheels he is apt to travel about in
rather a proud fashion. There are servants who think that their
masters cannot do without them; and the public also may occasionally
have some such servant. What if this too successful minister were
one of them! And then a discreet, commonplace, zealous member of the
Lower House does not like to be jeered at, when he does his duty by
his constituents and asks a few questions. An all-successful minister
who cannot keep his triumph to himself, but must needs drive about in
a proud fashion, laughing at commonplace zealous members--laughing
even occasionally at members who are by no means commonplace, which
is outrageous!--may it not be as well to ostracize him for awhile?

"Had we not better throw in our shells against him?" says Mr. Harold
Smith.

"Let us throw in our shells, by all means," says Mr. Supplehouse,
mindful as Juno of his despised charms. And when Mr. Supplehouse
declares himself an enemy, men know how much it means. They know that
that much-belaboured head of affairs must succumb to the terrible
blows which are now in store for him. "Yes, we will throw in our
shells." And Mr. Supplehouse rises from his chair with gleaming
eyes. "Has not Greece as noble sons as him? aye, and much nobler,
traitor that he is. We must judge a man by his friends," says Mr.
Supplehouse; and he points away to the East, where our dear allies
the French are supposed to live, and where our head of affairs is
supposed to have too close an intimacy.

They all understand this, even Mr. Green Walker. "I don't know that
he is any good to any of us at all, now," says the talented member
for the Crewe Junction. "He's a great deal too uppish to suit my
book: and I know a great many people that think so too. There's my
uncle--"

"He's the best fellow in the world," said Mr. Fothergill, who felt,
perhaps, that that coming revelation about Mr. Green Walker's uncle
might not be of use to them; "but the fact is one gets tired of the
same men always. One does not like partridge every day. As for me,
I have nothing to do with it myself; but I would certainly like to
change the dish."

"If we're merely to do as we are bid,