"And _don't_ I, darling?" he said, placing his arms round her neck, and drawing her fondly to his breast, and in the thrill of that momentary effusion was something of the old feeling when to lose her would have been despair, to gain her heaven, and it seemed as if the scent of the woods of Malory, and of the soft sea breeze, was around them for a moment. And now he is gone, away to that tiresome House--lost to her, given up to his ambition, which seems more and more to absorb him; and she remains smiling on their beautiful little baby, with a great misgiving at her heart, to see Cleve no more for four-and-twenty hours more. As Cleve went into the House, he met old Colonel Thongs, sometime whip of the "outs." "You've heard about old Snowdon?" "No." "In the Cabinet, by Jove!" "Really?" "Fact. Ask your uncle." "By Jove, it _is_ very unlooked for; no one thought of him; but I dare say he'll do very well." "We'll soon try that." It _was_ a _very_ odd appointment. But Lord Snowdon was gazetted; a dull man, but laborious; a man who had held minor offices at different periods of his life, and was presumed to have a competent knowledge of affairs. A dull man, owing all to his dulness, quite below many, and selected as a negative compromise for the vacant seat in the Cabinet, for which two zealous and brilliant competitors were contending. "I see it all," thought Cleve; "that's the reason why Caroline Oldys and Lady Wimbledon are to be at Ware this autumn, and I'm to be married to the niece of a Cabinet minister." Cleve sneered, but he felt very uneasy. CHAPTER VIII. THE TRIUMVIRATE. THAT night Lord Verney waited to hear the debate in the Commons--waited for the division,--and brought Cleve home with him in his brougham. He explained to Cleve on the way how much better the debate might have been. He sometimes half regretted his seat in the Commons; there were so many things unsaid that ought to have been said, and so many things said that had better have been omitted. And at last he remarked-- "Your uncle Arthur, my unfortunate brother, had a great natural talent for speaking. It's a talent of the Verney's--about it. We all have it; and _you_ have got it also; it is a gift of very decided importance in debate; it can hardly be over-estimated in that respect. Poor Arthur might have done very well, but he didn't, and he's gone--about it; and I'm very glad, for your own sake, you are cultivating it; and it would be a very great misfortune, I've been thinking, if our family were not to marry, and secure a transmission of those hereditary talents and--and things--and--what's your opinion of Miss Caroline Oldys? I mean, quite frankly, what sort of wife you think she would make." "Why, to begin with, she's been out a long time; but I fancy she's gentle--and foolish; and I believe her mother bullies her."