d Nell. "Imagine walking out on
a wet day in a habit or a ball frock!"

"I know," he said. "But I don't think you ought to walk out on a wet
day."

"You ought to live in Turkey," said Nell, with a laugh.

"That is rather neat," he said approvingly; "but pray, don't repeat my
speech to Lady Wolfer; she would think me exceedingly frivolous, and I
spend my time in the endeavor to convince her of my gravity and
discretion."

"Are all politicians supposed to be grave?" asked Nell, glancing at the
prime minister, who had just related an anecdote in his own inimitable
manner, and was laughing as heartily as if he had not a care in the
world.

Sir Charles followed her eyes and smiled.

"Judging by Mr. Gresham, one would answer with an emphatic negative," he
said. "But he is an exception to the rule. He is only grave when he is
in the House--and not always then. I have known him crack a joke--and
laugh at it--at the very moment the fate of his ministry swung in the
balance. Some men are born boys, and remain so all their lives, and
some----" He stopped and involuntarily looked at his host, who sat at
the end of the table, his tall, thin figure bolt upright, his face with
a kind of courteous gravity. He had heard the anecdote and paid it the
tribute of a smile, but the smile had passed quickly, and his
countenance had resumed its wonted seriousness in a moment.

"I always regard Lord Wolfer as a model of what a statesman should
seem," said Sir Charles. "I mean that he, more than any man I know,
comes up to the popular idea of a great statesman--that is, in manner
and bearing."

Nell remained silent. It was not befitting that she should discuss her
host and employer; and she wondered whether the clever undersecretary
beside her knew who she was and the position she held in the house. She
did not know enough of the world to be aware that nowadays one discusses
one's friends--even at their own tables--with a freedom which would have
shocked an earlier generation.

"I often think," he continued, "that Lord Wolfer would have served the
moralists as an instance of the vanity of human wishes."

"Why?" Nell could not help asking.

"Think of it!" he said, with a slight laugh. "He is the bearer of an old
and honored title, he is passing rich, he is a cabinet minister, he is
married to an extremely clever and charming lady--we agreed that she is
pretty, too, didn't we?--and----" He paused a moment. "Should you say
that Lord W