"I'm sure of it. Of course I like our uniform, and thousands of fellows would give their ears to be pages at the Palace; but you don't suppose I mean to keep on being a sort of lapdog in the anteroom. No. Wait a bit. There'll be grand times by-and-by. We must be like the rest of the best people, looking forward to the turn of the tide." Frank glanced quickly at the tall, handsome lad at his side, and quickened his pace and lengthened his stride to keep up with him, for he had drawn himself up and held his head back as if influenced by thoughts beyond the present. But he slackened down directly. "No need to make ourselves hot," he said. "You'd like to run, you little savage; but it won't do now. Let the mob do that. Look! that's Lord Ronald's carriage. Quick! do as I do." He doffed his hat to the occupant of the clumsy vehicle, Frank following his example; and they were responded to by a handsome, portly man with a bow and smile. "I say," said Frank, "how stupid a man looks in a great wig like that." "Bah! It is ridiculous. Pretty fashion these Dutchmen have brought in." "Dutchmen! What Dutchmen?" "Oh, never mind, innocence," said Andrew, with a half laugh. "Just think of how handsome the gentlemen of the Stuart time looked in their doublets, buff boots, long natural hair, and lace. This fashion is disgusting. Here's old Granthill coming now," he continued, as the trampling of horses made him glance back. "Don't turn round; don't see him." "Very well," said Frank with a laugh; "but whoever he is, I don't suppose he'll mind whether I bow or not." "Whoever he is!" cried Andrew contemptuously. "I say, don't you know that he is one of the King's Ministers?" "No," said Frank thoughtfully. "Oh yes, I do; I remember now. Of course. But I've never thought about these things. He's the gentleman, isn't he, that they say is unpopular?" "Well, you are partly right. He is unpopular; but I don't look upon him as a gentleman. Hark! hear that?" he shouted excitedly, as he looked eagerly toward where the first carriage had passed round the curve ahead of him on its way toward Westminster. "Yes, there's something to see. I know; it must be the soldiers. Come along; I want to see them." "No, it isn't the soldiers; it's the people cheering Lord Ronald on his way to the Parliament House. They like him. Every one does. He knows my father, and yours too. He knows me. Didn't you see him smile? I'll introduce you to him first time there's a levee." "No, I say, don't," said Frank, flushing. "He'd laugh at me." "So do I now. But this won't do, Frank; you mustn't be so modest." The second carriage which had passed them rolled on round the curve in the track of the first and disappeared, Frank noticing that many of the promenaders turned their heads to look after it. Then his attention was taken up by his companion's words. "Look here," he cried; "I want to show you Fleet Street."