nic. All acknowledged his courtesy, and both sides sympathised with
a young man who proved himself equal to no ordinary difficulties. In a
word, Endymion was popular, and that popularity was not diminished by
the fact of his being the brother of Lady Roehampton, who exercised
great influence in society, and who was much beloved.

As the year advanced external affairs became daily more serious, and
the country congratulated itself that its interests were entrusted to
a minister of the experience and capacity of Lord Roehampton. That
statesman seemed never better than when the gale ran high. Affairs in
France began to assume the complexion that the Count of Ferroll had
prophetically announced. If a crash occurred in that quarter, Lord
Roehampton felt that all Europe might be in a blaze. Affairs were never
more serious than at the turn of the year. Lord Roehampton told his wife
that their holidays must be spent in St. James' Square, for he could not
leave London; but he wished her to go to Gaydene, where they had been
invited by Mr. Sidney Wilton to pass their Christmas as usual. Nothing,
however, would induce her to quit his side. He seemed quite well, but
the pressure of affairs was extreme; and sometimes, against all her
remonstrances, he was again working at night. Such remonstrances on
other subjects would probably have been successful, for her influence
over him was extreme. But to a minister responsible for the interests
of a great country they are vain, futile, impossible. One might as well
remonstrate with an officer on the field of battle on the danger he was
incurring. She said to him one night in his library, where she paid him
a little visit before she retired, "My heart, I know it is no use my
saying anything, and yet--remember your promise. This night-work makes
me very unhappy."

"I remember my promise, and I will try not to work at night again in a
hurry, but I must finish this despatch. If I did not, I could not sleep,
and you know sleep is what I require."

"Good night, then."

He looked up with his winning smile, and held out his lips. "Kiss me,"
he said; "I never felt better."

Lady Roehampton after a time slumbered; how long she knew not, but when
she woke, her lord was not at her side. She struck a light and looked at
her watch. It was past three o'clock; she jumped out of bed, and, merely
in her slippers and her _robe de chambre_, descended to the library. It
was a large, long room, and Lord Ro