Lord Verney was subject to small pets and huffs, and sometimes was affronted with the Premier for four or five weeks together, although the fact escaped his notice. And when the viscount relented, he would make him a visit to quiet his mind, and show him that friendly relations were re-established; and the minister would say, "Here comes that d----d Verney; I suppose I must give him half-an-hour!" and when the peer departed, thinking he had made the minister happy, the minister was seriously debating whether Lord Verney's boroughs were worth the price of Lord Verney's society. His lordship was now in that sacred apartment, his library; where not even Cleve had a right to disturb him uninvited. Preliminaries, however, were now arranged; the servant announced him, and Cleve was commanded to enter. "I have just had a line to say I shall be in time at half-past ten o'clock, about it. Frompington's bill won't be on till then; and take that chair and sit down, about it, won't you? I've a good many things on my mind; people put things upon me. _Some_ people think I have a turn for business, and they ask me to consider and direct matters about _theirs_, and I do what I can. There was poor Wimbledon, who died, about it, seven years ago. You remember Wimbledon--or--I say--you either remember him or you don't recollect him; but in either case it's of no importance. Let me see: Lady Wimbledon--she's connected with you, about it--your mother, remotely--remotely also with us, the Verneys. I've had a world of trouble about her settlements--I can't describe--I can't describe--I was not well advised, in fact, to accept the trust at all. Long ago, when poor Frompington--I mean poor Wimbledon, of course--have I been saying Wimbledon?" Cleve at once satisfied him.