The conversation had turned on to the subject, ever green and fascinating, of politics, and Mr. Rolleston thought it a good opportunity to air his views as to the Government of the Colony, and to show his wife that he really meant to obey her wish, and become a power in the political world. "By Jove, you know," he said, with a wave of his hand, as though he were addressing the House; "the country is going to the dogs, and all that sort of thing. What we want is a man like Beaconsfield." "Ah! but you can't pick up a man like that every day," said Frettlby, who was listening with an amused smile to Rolleston's disquisitions. "Rather a good thing, too," observed Dr. Chinston, dryly. "Genius would become too common." "Well, when I am elected," said Felix, who had his own views, which modesty forbade him to publish, on the subject of the coming colonial Disraeli, "I probably shall form a party." "To advocate what?" asked Peterson, curiously. "Oh, well, you see," hesitated Felix, "I haven't drawn up a programme yet, so can't say at present." "Yes, you can hardly give a performance without a programme," said the doctor, taking a sip of wine, and then everybody laughed. "And on what are your political opinions founded?" asked Mr. Frettlby, absently, without looking at Felix. "Oh, you see, I've read the Parliamentary reports and Constitutional history, and--and Vivian Grey," said Felix, who began to feel himself somewhat at sea. "The last of which is what the author called it, a LUSUS NATURAE," observed Chinston. "Don't erect your political schemes on such bubble foundations as are in that novel, for you won't find a Marquis Carabas out here." "Unfortunately, no!" observed Felix, mournfully; "but we may find a Vivian Grey." Every one smothered a smile, the allusion was so patent. "Well, he didn't succeed in the end," cried Peterson. "Of course he didn't," retorted Felix, disdainfully; "he made an enemy of a woman, and a man who is such a fool as to do that deserves to fall." "You have an excellent opinion of our sex, Mr. Rolleston," said Madge, with a wicked glance at the wife of that gentleman, who was listening complacently to her husband's aimless chatter. "No better than they deserve," replied Rolleston, gallantly. "But you have never gone in for politics, Mr. Frettlby?" "Who?--I--no," said the host, rousing himself out of the brown study into which he had fallen. "I'm afraid I'm not sufficiently patriotic, and my business did not permit me." "And now?" "Now," echoed Mr. Frettlby, glancing at his daughter, "I intend to travel." "The jolliest thing out," said Peterson, eagerly. "One never gets tired of seeing the queer things that are in the world." "I've seen queer enough things in Melbourne in the early days," said the old colonist, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. "Oh!" cried Julia, putting her hands up to her ears, "don't tell me them, for I'm sure they're naughty."