er editors were especially serviceable. Perhaps 'a young Minister
of State' held the foremost rank in that respect: if completely duped
and squeezeable, he produced more substantial stuff.

The background of ice in Dacier's composition was brought to the front
by his righteous contempt of her treachery. No explanation of it would
have appeased him. She was guilty, and he condemned her. She stood
condemned by all the evil likely to ensue from her misdeed. Scarcely had
he left her house last night when she was away to betray him!--He
shook her from him without a pang. Crediting her with the one merit she
had--that of not imploring for mercy--he the more easily shook her off.
Treacherous, she had not proved theatrical. So there was no fuss in
putting out her light, and it was done. He was justified by the brute
facts. Honourable, courteous, kindly gentleman, highly civilized,
an excellent citizen and a patriot, he was icy at an outrage to his
principles, and in the dominion of Love a sultan of the bow-string
and chopper period, sovereignly endowed to stretch a finger for the
scimitared Mesrour to make the erring woman head and trunk with one
blow: and away with those remnants! This internally he did. Enough that
the brute facts justified him.

St. James's park was crossed, and the grass of the Green park, to avoid
inquisitive friends. He was obliged to walk; exercise, action of any
sort, was imperative, and but for some engagement he would have gone
to his fencing-rooms for a bout with the master. He remembered his
engagement and grew doubly embittered. He had absurdly pledged himself
to lunch with Quintin Manx; that was, to pretend to eat while submitting
to be questioned by a political dullard strong on his present right to
overhaul and rail at his superiors. The house was one of a block along
the North-Western line of Hyde park. He kicked at the subjection to go
there, but a promise was binding, though he gave it when stunned. He
could have silenced Mr. Manx with the posing interrogation: Why have
I so long consented to put myself at the mercy of a bore? For him, he
could not answer it, though Manx, as leader of the Shipping interest,
was influential. The man had to be endured, like other doses in
politics.

Dacier did not once think of the great ship-owner's niece till Miss
Constance Asper stepped into her drawing-room to welcome him. She was an
image of repose to his mind. The calm pure outline of her white features