day he had returned
from Windsor with the seals of his new office. The catastrophe of the
Goderich Cabinet, almost on the eve of the meeting of Parliament, had
been so sudden, that, not anticipating such a state of affairs, Ferrars,
among his other guests, had invited Sidney Wilton. He was rather
regretting this when, as his carriage stopped at his own door, he
observed that very gentleman on his threshold.

Wilton greeted him warmly, and congratulated him on his promotion. "I
do so at once," he added, "because I shall not have the opportunity
this evening. I was calling here in the hope of seeing Mrs. Ferrars, and
asking her to excuse me from being your guest to-day."

"Well, it is rather awkward," said Ferrars, "but I could have no idea of
this when you were so kind as to say you would come."

"Oh, nothing of that sort," said Sidney. "I am out and you are in, and
I hope you may be in for a long, long time. I dare say it may be so, and
the Duke is the man of the age, as you always said he was. I hope your
being in office is not to deprive me of your pleasant dinners; it would
be too bad to lose my place both at Whitehall and in Hill Street."

"I trust that will never happen, my dear fellow; but to-day I thought it
might be embarrassing."

"Not at all; I could endure without wincing even the triumphant glances
of Zenobia. The fact is, I have some business of the most pressing
nature which has suddenly arisen, and which demands my immediate
attention."

Ferrars expressed his regret, though in fact he was greatly relieved,
and they parted.

Zenobia did dine with the William Ferrars to-day, and her handsome
husband came with her, a knight of the garter, and just appointed to a
high office in the household by the new government. Even the excitement
of the hour did not disturb his indigenous repose. It was a dignified
serenity, quite natural, and quite compatible with easy and even cordial
manners, and an address always considerate even when not sympathetic.
He was not a loud or a long talker, but his terse remarks were full
of taste and a just appreciation of things. If they were sometimes
trenchant, the blade was of fine temper. Old Mr. Ferrars was there and
the Viscountess Edgware. His hair had become quite silvered, and
his cheek rosy as a December apple. His hazel eyes twinkled with
satisfaction as he remembered the family had now produced two privy
councillors. Lord Pomeroy was there, the great lord who had ret