It is sad to relate that a few days after this the Great High Priest died, and his death was a general relief. He was little mourned for. The public do not always forgive a man readily, even when he has the grace to die, though it’s certainly a great point in his favour. But still there was a certain section still in his favour, or rather, in favour of a certain Golden Priest called Phillipus, who was the oldest of that superior gathering, and likeliest, therefore, to come soonest upon dotage. Now Phillipus, if seniority had anything to do with it, ought to have stepped into the vacant throne, and would have done, if the events of the last two years or so had not undermined public feeling. He was a man of sixty, so well preserved, and of an intellect so keen, he appeared as one in the very middle youth of life. But when events are against a man, he may be what he will, he doesn’t make much headway, from a worldly point of view. But the death of the High Priest, so unexpected as it was, threw things forward a bit. The election for his successor must come off sooner than was expected. In lieu of this, a famous conclave was called together at a dinner-party—a party at which the dinner was not to be so important as the speeches to follow. Whilst this was in progress of preparation, cards of invitation were issued for a great ball in Marble House on Christmas Day. And so it was the day before the big dinner came off, and about a week after the invitations for the ball had been issued, Susiebelle rushed into the drawing-room of her great friend, Miss Groggerton. Now, before proceeding, it may be as well to introduce this lady cautiously. She lived in Lucifram, not upon Earth. She was so shockingly and vulgarly outspoken that on our modest sphere she would never have been tolerated; but there she was. And why? Well, the reason is a good one. She had twice been crossed in love. That on Earth makes a woman bitter. Not so on Lucifram. Crossed once, she does become embittered; crossed twice, she becomes a scourge in the land. And Miss Groggerton had been crossed twice. She therefore spared no one, man, woman, or child, and in consequence all persons with a spite against anyone went to her. She poured pepper and vinegar upon their wounds; then salt, and healed them. So it was that Susiebelle rushed into her room, furnished in yellow satin. “I think it’s shameful!” “What’s shameful?” asked Miss Groggerton, laying down her yellow-backed novel. “The way Camille Barringcourt has behaved!” “I knew you’d never manage it,” said the other. “Manage what?” “To get him up to the scratch.” “You’ve failed often enough; you needn’t talk to me. “I was talking to myself.” “It’s scandalous the way that grey-haired old Agnes Crokerly gets into everything. The reason her brother’s never got married is because she never lets him out of her sight.” “The reason he’s never got married,” said Miss Groggerton, “is because he’s no morals.”