rself furnishes the chief topic for speculation."

"What of me?" asked Upton, eagerly.

"Why, the rumor goes that you are to have the Foreign Office; Adderley,
they say, goes out, and Conway and yourself are the favorites, the odds
being slightly on his side."

"This is all news to me, George," said Upton, with a degree of animation
that had nothing fictitious about it; "I have had a note from Adderley
in the last bag, and there's not a word about these changes."

"Possibly; but perhaps my news is later. What I allude to is said to
have occurred the day I started."

"Ah, very true; and now I remember that the messenger came round by
Vienna, sent there by Adderley, doubtless," muttered he, "to consult
Conway before seeing _me_; and, I have little doubt, with a letter for
_me_ in the event of Conway declining."

"Well, have you hit upon the solution of it?" said Har-court, who had
not followed him through his half-uttered observation.

"Perhaps so," said Upton, slowly, while he leaned his head upon his
hand, and fell into a fit of meditation. Meanwhile, Harcourt's dinner
made its appearance, and the Colonel seated himself at the table with a
traveller's appetite.

"Whenever any one has called you a selfish fellow, Upton," said he, as
he helped himself twice from the same dish, "I have always denied it,
and on this good ground, that, had you been so, you had never kept the
best cook in Europe, while unable to enjoy his talents. What a rare
artist must this be! What's his name?"

"Pipo, how is he called?" said Upton, languidly.

"Monsieur Carmael, your Excellency."

"Ah, to be sure; a person of excellent family. I've been told he's from
Provence," said Upton, in the same weary voice.

"I could have sworn to his birthplace," cried Harcourt; "no man can
manage cheese and olives in cookery but a Provencal. Ah, what a glass
of Bordeaux! To your good health, Upton, and to the day that you may be
able to enjoy this as I do," said he, as he tossed off a bumper.

"It does me good even to witness the pleasure it yields," said Upton,
blandly.

"By Jove! then, I 'll be worth a whole course of tonics to you, for I
most thoroughly appreciate all the good things you have given me. By the
way, how are you off for dinner company here,--any pleasant people?"

"I have no health for pleasant people, my dear Harcourt; like horse
exercise, they only agree with you when you are strong enough not to
require them."

"Then what