"So it is really settled, Roger, that you are to go out to that African place with the violent name—something about ’gouging’ I know," said Lady Silchester, one evening in the winter-spring of 1887. She believed she was _enceinte_ and treated herself—and was being treated—with the utmost consideration. Lord Silchester was transfused with delight at the possibility of having a direct heir and promised himself the delicious revenge of taunting those officious friends and advisers who had taxed him with folly in marrying a woman thirty years younger than himself. So she was lying on a couch in the magnificent drawing-room of 6a Carlton House Terrace, clad in some anticipation of the tea-gown. It was nine o’clock in the evening, and Roger Brentham had been summoned to dine alone with her and her husband and talk over his personal affairs. Lord Silchester would presently leave for the House of Lords; meantime he was half listening to their conversation, half absorbed in a volume of Cascionovo’s _Neapolitan Society in the Eighteenth Century_ in its French edition. Roger, with one eye and one ear on Lord Silchester, replied "Yes. Lord Wiltshire has definitely offered me the appointment—through Tarrington, of course—his Private Secretary; and equally definitely I’ve accepted it. But technically it’s not Unguja, nothing so big. Unguja is an Agency and Consulate-General and is still held by Sir James Eccles, who is only at home on leave of absence. My post is a Consulate for the mainland, for the part the German company is taking over. It is styled ’for the mainland of Zangia with residence at the port of Medina.’ It is supposed the Germans are going to style their new protectorate ’Zangia,’ the old classical name of the Persians for that part of East Africa." Sibyl Silchester yawned slightly and concealed the yawn with her fan of Somali ostrich plumes which Roger had given her. Lord Silchester put down his book and turned suddenly towards Roger. "How do you get on at the F.O.?" "Oh, pretty well, sir," replied Roger, who still kept up his military manners with older men in higher positions than his own. "Pretty well. I’ve been working in the African Department all the autumn and I think I’ve got the hang of things; I mean, how to conduct a Consulate and the sort of policy we are to observe in East Africa. I’ve been down in Kent, also, staying with Sir James Eccles and being indoctrinated by him with the aims and ambitions he has been pursuing ever since 1866. He’s a grand man! I hope they send him back. I should be proud to serve under him. Of course, I saw something of him at Unguja in ’85-’86..." "H’m, well, I’ve no business to express an opinion, but I much doubt whether Wiltshire _will_ send him back—Wiltshire sets much value on good terms with Germany, and Eccles is hated by the Germans...."