Nell of Shorne Mills

"How well Lady Wolfer is looking to-night," he said, staring at the

hostess at the head of the table. Her eyes were bright, a faint flush on

her cheeks, and her soft hair, which her maid had arranged as

advantageously as short hair can be dressed, shone in the subdued light

of the shaded candles. "One is so accustomed to seeing her in--well,"

and he smiled, "strictly business garb, that full war paint strikes one

with the revelation of her prettiness."

"Yes; isn't she pretty?" said Nell eagerly. "But I always think she is;

though, of course, I like her best in evening dress."

He smiled at the promptitude of her ingenious admiration.

"If I had my way, your sex should always wear one of two costumes: a

riding habit or dinner dress."

"That would be rather inconvenient," said Nell. "Imagine walking out on

a wet day in a habit or a ball frock!"

"I know," he said. "But I don't think you ought to walk out on a wet

day."

"You ought to live in Turkey," said Nell, with a laugh.

"That is rather neat," he said approvingly; "but pray, don't repeat my

speech to Lady Wolfer; she would think me exceedingly frivolous, and I

spend my time in the endeavor to convince her of my gravity and

discretion."

"Are all politicians supposed to be grave?" asked Nell, glancing at the

prime minister, who had just related an anecdote in his own inimitable

manner, and was laughing as heartily as if he had not a care in the

world.

Sir Charles followed her eyes and smiled.

"Judging by Mr. Gresham, one would answer with an emphatic negative," he

said. "But he is an exception to the rule. He is only grave when he is

in the House--and not always then. I have known him crack a joke--and

laugh at it--at the very moment the fate of his ministry swung in the

balance. Some men are born boys, and remain so all their lives, and

some----" He stopped and involuntarily looked at his host, who sat at

the end of the table, his tall, thin figure bolt upright, his face with

a kind of courteous gravity. He had heard the anecdote and paid it the

tribute of a smile, but the smile had passed quickly, and his

countenance had resumed its wonted seriousness in a moment.

"I always regard Lord Wolfer as a model of what a statesman should

seem," said Sir Charles. "I mean that he, more than any man I know,

comes up to the popular idea of a great statesman--that is, in manner

and bearing."