In the delicate and judicious phrase of the prime minister, it seemed that one Bendish, an admirable man, was living now under the threat of Bright’s disease, and that in the opinion of Mrs. Bendish, an admirable woman, only one place could hope to arrest the ravages of such a grave malady. That place was the House of Lords. Whether the air of the Gilded Chamber was more salubrious, whether its system of drainage was more modern, the central heating more efficient, the ventilation less inadequate, was one of those problems which the prime minister, having no first-hand knowledge of Another Place, did not offer to solve. But there the matter was. Mrs. Bendish, an admirable woman, was convinced that, for Bright’s disease, the rarified atmosphere of the House of Lords was the only remedy. Alas, that Mr. Bendish should be smitten with so fell a malady! The prime minister, however, was by no means averse from applying the antidote. Drastic, no doubt, but Mrs. Bendish, a Spartan wife, was adamant. Unhappily, Mr. Bendish would not be able to continue his signal work for the State. The Home Office and the House of Lords are not necessarily incompatible, but like Burgundy and port they are a combination not quite suited to all constitutions. Such at least, in this case, was the view of the prime minister. In the event of Mr. Bendish really going to the House of Lords--and Mrs. Bendish was so firm on the point that it hardly admitted of doubt--it would be expedient for his Britannic majesty to seek a new secretary of state for the Home Department. In a word, would Mr. Endor take that Office? Mr. Endor was a little staggered. The bust of Pitt was on his right hand, a set of the Encyclopedia Britannica was on his left, none the less, the prime minister’s point-blank offer was in the nature of a bolt from a blue sky. “It will mean, I’m afraid, a by-election.” The honeyed voice of Mr. Wilberforce Williams had the mellifluity that endeared him to every journalist in the land. “And--don’t let us deceive ourselves--my dear sir--a stiff one. To be frank--to be perfectly frank--the member for Blackhampton will not be exactly _persona gratissima_ in Universe Building.” To the young Lothair, that was the amazing part of the whole matter. He had no claim to subtlety of mind, but he was not a fool. What was in the wind? Well he knew that for the member for Blackhampton to be given the Home Office was tantamount to Slippery Sam throwing down the gage of battle to the U. P. “Take a little time for your answer, my dear sir.” Such linked sweetness must have seemed a little excessive in any one not the prime minister. “Take twenty-four--forty-eight--yes, forty-eight hours--shall we say? In the meantime, may I rely--of course I may--such a superfluous question--on your absolute discretion?” John Endor gave that unnecessary assurance.