of the same opinion as Zenobia, for she was ambitious,
and the dream was captivating. And Mrs. Ferrars soon gained Zenobia's
good graces, for she had many charms, and, though haughty to the
multitude, was a first-rate flatterer. Zenobia liked flattery, and
always said she did. Mr. Under-Secretary Ferrars took a mansion in Hill
Street, and furnished it with befitting splendour. His dinners were
celebrated, and Mrs. Ferrars gave suppers after the opera. The equipages
of Mrs. Ferrars were distinguished, and they had a large retinue of
servants. They had only two children, and they were twins, a brother and
a sister, who were brought up like the children of princes. Partly for
them, and partly because a minister should have a Tusculum, the Ferrars
soon engaged a magnificent villa at Wimbledon, which had the advantage
of admirable stables, convenient, as Mrs. Ferrars was fond of horses,
and liked the children too, with their fancy ponies, to be early
accustomed to riding. All this occasioned expenditure, but old Mr.
Ferrars made his son a liberal allowance, and young Mrs. Ferrars was an
heiress, or the world thought so, which is nearly the same, and then,
too, young Mr. Ferrars was a rising man, in office, and who would
always be in office for the rest of his life; at least, Zenobia said so,
because he was on the right side and the Whigs were nowhere, and never
would be anywhere, which was quite right, as they had wished to make us
the slaves of Bonaparte.

When the King, after much hesitation, send for Mr. Canning, on the
resignation of Lord Liverpool, the Zenobian theory seemed a little at
fault, and William Ferrars absolutely out of office had more than one
misgiving; but after some months of doubt and anxiety, it seemed after
all the great lady was right. The unexpected disappearance of Mr.
Canning from the scene, followed by the transient and embarrassed
phantom of Lord Goderich, seemed to indicate an inexorable destiny that
England should be ruled by the most eminent men of the age, and the most
illustrious of her citizens. William Ferrars, under the inspiration of
Zenobia, had thrown in his fortunes with the Duke, and after nine months
of disquietude found his due reward. In the January that succeeded the
August conversation in St. James' Street with Sidney Wilton, William
Ferrars was sworn of the Privy Council, and held high office, on the
verge of the Cabinet.

Mr. Ferrars had a dinner party in Hill Street on the