“There is a parcel from London,” said the servant to Mr. Ferrars, as they entered the house. “It is on your desk.” A parcel from London was one of the great events of their life. What could it be? Perhaps some proofs, probably some books. Mr. Ferrars entered his room alone. It was a very small brown paper parcel, evidently not books. He opened it hastily, and disencumbered its contents of several coverings. The contents took the form of a letter--a single letter. The handwriting was recognised, and he read the letter with an agitated countenance, and then he opened the door of his room, and called loudly for his wife, who was by his side in a few moments. “A letter, my love, from Barron,” he cried. “The King has dismissed Lord Melbourne and sent for the Duke of Wellington, who has accepted the conduct of affairs.” “You must go to town directly,” said his wife. “He offered you the Cabinet in 1832. No person has such a strong claim on him as you have.” “It does not appear that he is exactly prime minister,” said Mr. Ferrars, looking again at the letter. “They have sent for Peel, who is at Rome, but the Duke is to conduct the government till he arrives.” “You must go to town immediately,” repeated Mrs. Ferrars. “There is not a moment to be lost. Send down to the Horse Shoe and secure an inside place in the Salisbury coach. It reaches this place at nine to-morrow morning. I will have everything ready. You must take a portmanteau and a carpet-bag. I wonder if you could get a bedroom at the Rodneys’. It would be so nice to be among old friends; they must feel for you. And then it will be near the Carlton, which is a great thing. I wonder how he will form his cabinet. What a pity he is not here!” “It is a wonderful event, but the difficulties must be immense,” observed Ferrars. “Oh! you always see difficulties. I see none. The King is with us, the country is disgusted. It is what I always said would be; the reaction is complete.” “Well, we had better now go and tell the children,” said Ferrars. “I leave you all here for the first time,” and he seemed to sigh. “Well, I hope we shall soon join you,” said Mrs. Ferrars. “It is the very best time for hiring a house. What I have set my heart upon is the Green Park. It will be near your office and not too near. I am sure I could not live again in a street.” The children were informed that public events of importance had occurred, that the King had changed his ministry, and that papa must go up to town immediately and see the Duke of Wellington. The eyes of Mrs. Ferrars danced with excitement as she communicated to them all this intelligence, and much more, with a volubility in which of late years she had rarely indulged. Mr. Ferrars looked grave and said little. Then he patted Endymion on the head, and kissed Myra, who returned his embrace with a warmth unusual with her.