Zenobia was leaning back on a brilliant sofa, supported by many cushions, and a great personage, grey-headed and blue-ribboned, who was permitted to share the honours of the high place, was hanging on her animated and inspiring accents. An ambassador, in an armed chair which he had placed somewhat before her, while he listened with apparent devotion to the oracle, now and then interposed a remark, polished and occasionally cynical. More remote, some dames of high degree were surrounded by a chosen band of rank and fashion and celebrity; and now and then was heard a silver laugh, and now and then was breathed a gentle sigh. Servants glided about the suite of summer chambers, occasionally with sherbets and ices, and sometimes a lady entered and saluted Zenobia, and then retreated to the general group, and sometimes a gentleman entered, and pressed the hand of Zenobia to his lips, and then vanished into air. “What I want you to see,” said Zenobia, “is that reaction is the law of life, and that we are on the eve of a great reaction. Since Lord Castlereagh’s death we have had five years of revolution--nothing but change, and every change has been disastrous. Abroad we are in league with all the conspirators of the Continent, and if there were a general war we should not have an ally; at home our trade, I am told, is quite ruined, and we are deluged with foreign articles; while, thanks to Mr. Huskisson, the country banks, which enabled Mr. Pitt to carry on the war and saved England, are all broken. There was one thing, of which I thought we should always be proud, and that was our laws and their administration; but now our most sacred enactments are questioned, and people are told to call out for the reform of our courts of judicature, which used to be the glory of the land. This cannot last. I see, indeed, many signs of national disgust; people would have borne a great deal from poor Lord Liverpool--for they knew he was a good man, though I always thought a weak one; but when it was found that his boasted Liberalism only meant letting the Whigs into office--who, if they had always been in office, would have made us the slaves of Bonaparte--their eyes were opened. Depend upon it, the reaction has commenced.” “We shall have some trouble with France,” said the ambassador, “unless there is a change here.” “The Church is weary of the present men,” said the great personage. “No one really knows what they are after.” “And how can the country be governed without the Church?” exclaimed Zenobia. “If the country once thinks the Church is in danger, the affair will soon be finished. The King ought to be told what is going on.” “Nothing is going on,” said the ambassador; “but everybody is afraid of something.” “The King’s friends should impress upon him never to lose sight of the landed interest,” said the great personage. “How can any government go on without the support of the Church and the land?” exclaimed Zenobia. “It is quite unnatural.”