In dazzling contrast with these throes of low ambition, were some brilliant personages who had just scampered up from Melton, thinking it probable that Sir Robert might want some moral lords of the bed-chamber. Whatever may have been their private fears or feelings, all however seemed smiling and significant, as if they knew something if they chose to tell it, and that something very much to their own satisfaction. The only grave countenance that was occasionally ushered into the room belonged to some individual whose destiny was not in doubt, and who was already practising the official air that was in future to repress the familiarity of his former fellow-stragglers. ‘Do you hear anything?’ said a great noble who wanted something in the general scramble, but what he knew not; only he had a vague feeling he ought to have something, having made such great sacrifices. ‘There is a report that Clifford is to be Secretary to the Board of Control,’ said Mr. Earwig, whose whole soul was in this subaltern arrangement, of which the Minister of course had not even thought; ‘but I cannot trace it to any authority.’ ‘I wonder who will be their Master of the Horse,’ said the great noble, loving gossip though he despised the gossiper. ‘Clifford has done nothing for the party,’ said Mr. Earwig. ‘I dare say Rambrooke will have the Buckhounds,’ said the great noble, musingly. ‘Your Lordship has not heard Clifford’s name mentioned?’ continued Mr. Earwig. ‘I should think they had not come to that sort of thing,’ said the great noble, with ill-disguised contempt.’ The first thing after the Cabinet is formed is the Household: the things you talk of are done last;’ and he turned upon his heel, and met the imperturbable countenance and clear sarcastic eye of Lord Eskdale. ‘You have not heard anything?’ asked the great noble of his brother patrician. ‘Yes, a great deal since I have been in this room; but unfortunately it is all untrue.’ ‘There is a report that Rambrooke is to have the Buck-hounds; but I cannot trace it to any authority.’ ‘Pooh!’ said Lord Eskdale. ‘I don’t see that Rambrooke should have the Buckhounds any more than anybody else. What sacrifices has he made?’ ‘Past sacrifices are nothing,’ said Lord Eskdale. ‘Present sacrifices are the thing we want: men who will sacrifice their principles and join us.’ ‘You have not heard Rambrooke’s name mentioned?’ ‘When a Minister has no Cabinet, and only one hundred and forty supporters in the House of Commons, he has something else to think of than places at Court,’ said Lord Eskdale, as he slowly turned away to ask Lucian Gay whether it were true that Jenny Colon was coming over. Shortly after this, Henry Sydney’s father, who dined with Mr. Ornisby, drew Lord Eskdale into a window, and said in an undertone: ‘So there is to be a kind of programme: something is to be written.’ ‘Well, we want a cue,’ said Lord Eskdale. ‘I heard of this last night: Rigby has written something.’