“That is the mystery,” remarked the ambassador. “Here is a government, supported by none of the influences hitherto deemed indispensable, and yet it exists.” “The newspapers support it,” said the great personage, “and the Dissenters, who are trying to bring themselves into notice, and who are said to have some influence in the northern counties, and the Whigs, who are in a hole, are willing to seize the hand of the ministry to help them out of it; and then there is always a number of people who will support any government--and so the thing works.” “They have got a new name for this hybrid sentiment,” said the ambassador. “They call it public opinion.” “How very absurd!” said Zenobia; “a mere nickname. As if there could be any opinion but that of the Sovereign and the two Houses of Parliament.” “They are trying to introduce here the continental Liberalism,” said the great personage. “Now we know what Liberalism means on the continent. It means the abolition of property and religion. Those ideas would not suit this country; and I often puzzle myself to foresee how they will attempt to apply Liberal opinions here.” “I shall always think,” said Zenobia, “that Lord Liverpool went much too far, though I never said so in his time; for I always uphold my friends.” “Well, we shall see what Canning will do about the Test and Corporation Acts,” said the great personage. “I understand they mean to push him.” “By the by, how is he really?” said the ambassador. “What are the accounts this afternoon?” “Here is a gentleman who will tell us,” said Zenobia, as Mr. Ferrars entered and saluted her. “And what is your news from Chiswick?” she inquired. “They say at Brookes’, that he will be at Downing Street on Monday.” “I doubt it,” said Zenobia, but with an expression of disappointment. Zenobia invited Mr. Ferrars to join her immediate circle. The great personage and the ambassador were confidentially affable to one whom Zenobia so distinguished. Their conversation was in hushed tones, as become the initiated. Even Zenobia seemed subdued, and listened; and to listen, among her many talents, was perhaps her rarest. Mr. Ferrars was one of her favourites, and Zenobia liked young men who she thought would become Ministers of State. An Hungarian Princess who had quitted the opera early that she might look in at Zenobia’s was now announced. The arrival of this great lady made a stir. Zenobia embraced her, and the great personage with affectionate homage yielded to her instantly the place of honour, and then soon retreated to the laughing voices in the distance that had already more than once attracted and charmed his ear. “Mind; I see you to-morrow,” said Zenobia to Mr. Ferrars as he also withdrew. “I shall have something to tell you.” CHAPTER III