disappointment of a just ambition, the humiliation of her mother's pride. The political crisis approached rapidly and Ashe's name was less and less to the front. Lady Parham was said to be taking an active part in the consultations and intrigues that surrounded her husband, and it was well known by now to the inner circle that her hostility to the Ashes, and her insistence on the fact that cabinet ministers must be beyond reproach, and their wives persons to whose houses the party can go without demeaning themselves, were likely to be of importance. Moreover, Ashe's success in the House of Commons was no longer what it had been earlier in the session. The party papers had cooled. Elizabeth Tranmore felt a blight in the air. Yet William, with his position in the country, his high ability, and the social weight belonging to the heir of the Tranmore peerage and estates, was surely not a person to be lightly ignored. Would Lord Parham venture it?
At last the resignations of the two ministers were in the Times; there were communications between the Queen and the Premier, and London plunged with such ardor as is possible in late July into the throes of cabinet-making. Kitty insisted petulantly that of course all would be well; William's services were far too great to be ignored; though Lord Parham would no doubt slight him if he dared. But the party and the public would see to that. The days were gone by when vulgar old women like Lady Parham could have any real influence on political appointments. Otherwise who would condescend to politics?
Ashe brought her amusing reports from the House or the clubs, of the various intrigues going on, and as to his own chances, refused to discuss them seriously. Once or twice when Kitty in his presence insisted on speaking of them to some political intimate, only to provoke an evident embarrassment, Ashe suffered the tortures which proud men know. But he never lost his tone of light detachment, and the conclusion of his friends was that as usual "Ashe didn't care a button."
The hours passed, however, and no sign came from the Prime Minister. Everything was still uncertain; but Ashe had realized that at least he was not to be taken into the inner counsels of the party. The hopes and fears, the heart-burnings and rivalries, of such a state of things are proverbial. Ashe wondered impatiently when the beastly business would be over and he could get off to Scotland for the air and sport of which he was badly in need.
It was a Friday in the first week of August. Ashe was leaving the Athenæum with another member of the House, when a newspaper boy rushing along with a fresh bundle of papers passed them with the cry: "New cabinet complete! Official list!" They caught him up, snatched a paper and read. Two men of middle age, conspicuous in Parliament, but not hitherto in office, one of them of great importance as a lawyer, the other as a military critic, were appointed, the one to the Home Office, the other to the Ministry of War; there had been some shuffling in the minor offices, and a new Privy Seal had dawned upon the world. For the rest, all was as before, and in the formal list the name of the Honorable William Travers Ashe still remained attached to the Under-Secretaryship for Foreign Affairs.
Ashe's friend shrugged his shoulders, and avoided looking at his companion. "A bombshell, to begin with," he said; "otherwise the flattest thing out."
"On the contrary," laughed Ashe. "Parham has shown a wonderful amount of originality. If you and I are taken by surprise, what will the public be? And they'll like him all the better,—you'll see. He has shown courage and gone for new men,—that's what they'll say. Vive Parham! Well, good-by. Now, please the Lord, we shall get off,—and I may be driving grouse this day week."
He stopped on his way out of the club to discuss the list with the men coming in. He was conscious that some would have avoided him. But he had no mind to be avoided, and his caustic, good-humored talk carried off the situation. Presently he was walking homewards, swinging his stick with the gayety of a schoolboy expecting the holidays.
As he mounted St. James's Street a carriage descended. Ashe mechanically
