MRS. G. (wistfully).  Do I, Mr. Morley?

MORLEY.  It is you, more than anything, who have kept him young.

MRS. G. Oh, no!  I’m the ageing influence.

MORLEY.  I don’t believe it.

MRS. G. Yes; I stand for caution, prudence.  He’s like a great boy....  You don’t think so; you see the other side of his character.  But here have I been, sixty years, trying to make him take advice!

MORLEY.  And sometimes succeeding.  Gods, and their makers!  What a strange world!

MRS. G. Spending one’s life feeding a god on beef-tea, that’s been my work. (The dear lady sighs.)

MORLEY.  And making comforters for him.

MRS. G. It’s terrible when he won’t take it!

MORLEY.  The beef-tea?

MRS. G. No, the advice.  For I’m generally right, you know.

MORLEY.  I can well believe it.  Strange to think how the welfare and destiny of the nation have sometimes lain here—­in this gentle hand.

MRS. G. We do jump in the dark so, don’t we?  Who can say what is really best for anyone?

MORLEY.  And prescribing for a god is more difficult.

MRS. G. Much more.

MORLEY.  So when he comes to ask a mere mortal for advice—­well, now you must judge how difficult it has been for me.

MRS. G. Have you been giving him advice?

MORLEY.  In a way; yes.

MRS. G. And has he taken it?

MORLEY.  A few days ago he told me of a resolution he had come to.  I could not disapprove.  But now I wonder how it is going to strike you?

MRS. G. Has anything special happened?  He has not told me.

MORLEY (gravely).  To-morrow, or the day after, he will be going down to Windsor.

MRS. G. Oh, I’m sorry!  That always depresses him.  He and the Queen don’t get on very well together.

MORLEY.  They will get on well enough this time, I imagine.

MRS. G. (a little bit alarmect).  Does that mean—­any change of policy?

MORLEY.  Of policy—­I hope not.  Of person—­yes.

MRS. G. Is anyone leaving the Cabinet?

MORLEY.  We may all be leaving it, very soon.  He asked me to tell you; he had promised Armitstead a game.  Look how he is enjoying it!

MRS. G. (shrewdly).  Ah! then I expect he is winning.

MORLEY.  Oh?  I should not have called him a bad loser.

MRS. G. No; but he likes winning better—­the excitement of it.

MORLEY.  That is only human.  Yes, he has been a great winner—­sometimes.

MRS. G. When has he ever lost—­except just for the time?  He always knows that.

MORLEY.  Ah, yes!  To quote your own sprightly phrase, we—­he and the party with him—­are always “popping up again.”

MRS. G. When did I say that?

MORLEY.  Seven years ago, when we began to win bye-elections on the Irish question.  The bye-elections are not going so well for us just now.