deem nothing too trivial to be made the subject of serious reflection. Take the question of sheep's tails, for instance, did you ever turn your attention to that?"

"I cannot say that I have," replied Tresham, beginning to fear that the great man's wits were wandering.

"You never have!-and yet it is one of the great questions of the day. Our friend, Mr Chirp, would no doubt claim the credit of directing my mind on that theme as well as all others, but Chirp, I fear, is not a sincere man; I cannot say positively that he is not a man of truth, for I do not know, and have no right to judge him. There is room, I think, for anxiety respecting him. Mark you, he understands the new-fangled electioneering machinery, which I do not, and he can work the Press. These are great arts, but it requires a very peculiar order of intellect and of moral principles -to master them. Do you understand?"

"I think I do." "I hope you do. But what was I talking about-was it umbrellas? I am a great collector of umbrellas. I should like to show you my store before you go-many of them testimonials."

"You were mentioning sheep's tails, I believe," said the UnderSecretary, with all the gravity he could muster.

"To be sure-so I was. Well, now, are you aware that under present circumstances most of these oleaginous appendages, which might contribute so bountifully to the nourishment and prosperity of the nation, are thrown away-wantonly thrown away? Why should that be so? Let me remind you that the ox meets with greater consideration from men: his tail is converted, by the due exercise of culin

ary skill, into one of the most mollifying of soups. Did you ever hear of sheep's-tail soup? You never did. And yet this nation pretends that it is overtaxed, and the poor complain that they have not enough meat to eat. Such a people deserve to have a Flummer to rule over them in perpetuity. But now let us come to the point. The question which you have to answer to-night is, whether your department did or did not issue certain orders which have given great offence. To your mind, perhaps, that question seems a very simple one?"

The

"Well, yes, I confess it does." "And yet it is not so. Nothing in the world is simple, if you approach it in the right manner. public, moreover, does not love simplicity-it likes to be transported into the region of haze and obscurity. Endeavour to be clear, and it will be said that you are superficial. Multiply your words, and take care that they shall mean as little as possible. Observe to what a great destiny I have been brought, and yet I never gave a direct answer to a question in my life. Your instinct would probably lead you to say yes or no to this particular question, but it would be a great blunder, more especially as we cannot afford to make any admissions."

"Then what am I to say ?" "I am coming to that. You will point out that the exigencies of the public service indicate more urgent and immediate duties than the determination of subjects still in controversy, and that the consideration of such a question as this does not enter definitely into the concerns of the present moment -if there be such a thing as the present moment and that your information and means of judgment (not that you admit you possess any information) have not been

augmented by anything which has reached you in the course of the present discussion; but that what you have said in no way precludes you from giving further information when you receive it, on the sentiments of the community (if they have any) concerning the case- -if there be a case. This will be short, and to the purpose. You think you can manage this?"

"I will try," replied Tresham, much impressed with the lesson he had received.

"Just so; and recollect that if you cannot remember the precise thread of the argument I have given you, almost anything else will do as well, provided that you give it the requisite sonorous sound. In your leisure moments you should prepare a few sentences-not too brief or sententious - which may always be handy for every occasion; and they will be successful in proportion to the skill with which you have disguised your meaning. And now, good-day; I daresay you are going to some very pleasant engagement, while I-I am just going to call on Mr Chirp." The Minister sighed heavily, and took up a testimonial umbrella, with a portrait of himself carved on the handle, and prepared to go forth upon his errand.

own wishes and feelings were more and more opposed to that interpretation of it. No doubt he did not deserve to be called a romantic lover, but he was a perfectly faithful one, and ought not to be judged too harshly because he had a way of regarding everything from a common-sense point of view. He did not desire to become rich by marriage, but he was reluctant to rush headlong into straitened circumstances, and drag another life after him into the same dismal swamp. In the old days, according to playwrights and novelists, men did not pause to think of such matters. When they were in love they could not rest till they were married; and they would have been indignant with any one who had ventured to suggest that the regular payment of tradesmen's bills, and a modest overplus at the banker's, were quite as essential to happiness as love itself. Reginald Tresham had no claim to belong to this "old school" of lovers. He felt tolerably confident that in a household where debt is continually haunting the fireside, and where at the end of each year a man finds himself sinking deeper and deeper into embarrassments, there may be friendship, and even love, still left; but there can be no happiness. In spite of all this, however, he had no intention of accepting Kate's decision. It might be better that for a time they should not meet-so far, she was probably right. But he resolved that Kate Margrave, and none other, should be his wife; provided, indeed, that the hope she had once given him was not to be finally recalled. finally recalled. It was upon that point that he expected to receive some assurance from Mrs Peters.

"Yes, I have seen her," said the widow, taking his hand cordially, for she believed in him, and felt absolute confidence in his fidelity. "I have been with her all the morning. How foolish of her, and of all of you, not to have told me what was going on long before! I heard of it quite by accident only the other day, and now it is too late to do any good. Friends should stand by each other in such troubles as these, or of what use are they?"

Reginald fancied that these words implied some reflection upon his own conduct. "I would have stood by these friends of mine," he said, "to the last, and I will do so now, come what may. But how could I have been of any service? Do you know of the letter which Kate wrote to me?"

"She told me all about it. It was a letter which cost her much sorrow to write. You must consider how she was placed, and recollect that she is a proud girl-one who would not stoop to accept a favour from any of us; not from me, and least of all from you. Her father was comparatively a rich man when you became engaged to her, and he is now a poor one. She did what few girls would have done, perhaps she voluntarily broke off the engagement. It was her duty to do it, as she thought; and I have told her that she was right."

"Then you also are against me?"

"I am not against you; but I think Kate took the proper view of her position. When a woman loves a man, she does not seek to become a burden to him-at least, not always. In your circumstances, a poor wife must necessarily be a burden. It would be so even in America; can it be otherwise in England, where you all think so

much of keeping up appearances? Kate was right, and in your heart you must admit it."

"There might at least have been delay," said Tresham, ignoring this personal appeal; "there was no necessity to make the sentence a final one."

"It is always in a man's power," said the widow smiling at him, and putting the tips of her fingers upon his arm, "to prevent such sentences being final—at least, if the girl he loves has any love for him." "Ay, that is a great 'if'! Has she any love for me?"

"Can you doubt it? Have you not known her quite long enough to feel confident that her heart is neither to be lightly won nor lightly lost? You are an ungrateful creature. I was with her two hours, and she talked of nothing but you. I cannot say it was very lively for me; and now I suppose you want to keep me two hours talking of nothing but her. I shall get back to Paris this very night."

"You will not go, my dear Mrs Peters, till you have seen Kate again, and carried her a message from me. Come now, be my friend! Promise me that you will do this one thing for me."

The widow was walking up and down the room in a state, so far as Tresham could judge, of considerable indignation. "I am getting tired," she said, with a little scornful laugh, "of you Englishmen. You do not know everything, as you fancy; but we American women always supposed you knew how to make love. I see it is all a mistake. You no longer shine even in that."

"You have never given us a chance."

"Well, I will give you a chance,” said the widow, suddenly changing her tone. "Begin." I am

"It is not a fair chance.

"Then you have a poor way of showing it. It would not be my way, if I were a man."

"What would you do? Tell me, and I will do it."

"Marry Kate Margrave."

"The very thing I have been trying to do. But she will not have me."

"No man ever said that about a woman he really cared for. Where is all this English pluck we hear so much about?"

"I really don't know; but after what you have said it requires a little of it to beg you still to take my message."

"It all depends," said the widow, looking shyly at him out of the corners of her eyes. "What is the message like."

"Tell her that I loyally accept her decision for the present. That I will not obtrude upon her against her will, or in any way seek to disturb the plans which she has formed; but that I will never give her up, no matter how long she may keep me from her side. Need I say to you that I honour her more than ever for her courage and noble spirit; or that her devotion to her father increases, if that be possible, my love for her? I will wait as long as she may please, but it will

always be with the same hope before me the hope of making her my wife. Will you tell her that?

"You silly man," said the widow, trying to hide the tears which were in her eyes, "do you think I would see her and not tell her how sure I was of all that to begin with? Every word of it she heard this morning, but perhaps she did not believe it, because I had not come straight from you. I think you have put it a little better than I did. That comes of being in Parliament ! I relent" here she went close to him, and looked into his face with an expression which highly amused her visitor,-"you are good enough, almost, to be an American. I really fancy you might learn how to make love properly, under good tuition.” "I wish you would teach me." "Beware!—every word shall be repeated to Kate.”

"That is the very thing I have been begging of you.'

"Then I will tell her all that has taken place - with reservations."

"There is no necessity for any reservations," said the young man, kissing her hand, perhaps a trifle too fervently.

"I am not so sure about that," replied Sally Peters, wickedly; "but I will see how you behave. Now be off to the bear-garden which you call the House of Commons."

Mr Dexter File did not entirely dismiss Margrave and his affairs from his mind after he had despatched the letter which has already found a place in these pages. For certain reasons which seemed strong in his own eyes, he would not only have been willing to avert misfortune from Mar

grave's household, if that were in his power, but even to assist him out of it if the blow actually fell. Few indeed were the human beings for whom File would have been disposed to take the trouble to stretch forth a hand in either direction. From his point of view, there was no reason why he should

do so.

His fellow-creatures had done nothing for him, and he regarded them with entire indifference, except in so far as they might either be useful to him, or a source of danger. Life was a great game, which he had won with all the odds against him, and he could scarcely remember one of the players who had not striven to gain an unfair advantage, except Hosea Mink. Years ago, Mink might have done him an evil turn, and if he had done it, File's position would have been rendered tremely unpleasant.

ex

Mink chose to do him a good turn instead, and File was so astonished, that he always looked upon him afterwards as a genuine curiosity-the one example of a variety of the human race which he had heard people talk about, but which never before had come within the range of his own observation.

or

For Mink, therefore, he had as warm a regard as he was ever likely to feel for any man woman either. The rest of the world had tried to trip him up in the race, and now they hated him because he had gained the prize which they were all wild to obtain. He had heard many sermons-for File went occasionally to the Presbyterian church hard by his house, to listen to the stirring discourses of the pastor, the Rev. Enoch Tarbox-and he had noticed that the congregation was warned very frequently and earnestly against the dangers of riches and the love of money. But he had never known anybody whatever, whether preacher or politician, lawyer or writer, who did not privately set quite as much store by money as he did himself, or even more. For File did not care much for money-it was the excitement of playing high stakes for it, against the keenest and most daring gamblers in the

world, which alone afforded him pleasure. What difference did the possession of a million more or less make to a man who had many millions already, who never went into society, and who dined every day at one o'clock upon a mutton-chop or a beef-steak? He had long enjoyed all that he desired. There are two things which are said to be invincible in their power over mankind

immense riches and great beauty. File had found that the greater included the less. Beauty was always ready to fall down and worship riches. He possessed the chief source of power, and, to say the truth, he was indifferent to the other.

Woman, in fact, however lovely -or otherwise had no influence over Dexter File. He had come to New York a solitary man, and alone he had remained ever since. Some people said that he had not always shunned female society; it was even whispered at one time that he had been married, but that was soon rejected as a wild fiction. After he became a great power in the financial world, many and persevering were the inquiries which were made into his past life, sometimes by his friends, more frequently by his enemies; but in all the narratives thus produced there was a blank. The only man who knew everything for he had been acquainted with File from boyhood onwards was Hosea Mink, and Mink had made up his mind once for all that fidelity to his friend was his chief business in life. Now fidelity meant, in some things, absolute silence; and Mink, like File himself, was by nature and disposition a man of few words. The two had been known to travel together from one end of the Continent to the other without exchanging a dozen sentences. They believed in the virtue of silence, and, unlike some distinguished philoso