lay with Mr. Gresham.  Mr. Gresham was willing to serve with Mr. Mildmay,—­with certain stipulations as to the special seat in the Cabinet which he himself was to occupy, and as to the introduction of certain friends of his own; but,—­so said these gentlemen who were supposed really to understand the matter,—­Mr. Gresham was not willing to serve with the Duke and with Mr. Palliser.  Now, everybody who knew anything knew that the Duke and Mr. Palliser were indispensable to Mr. Mildmay.  And a liberal Government, with Mr. Gresham in the opposition, could not live half through a session!  All Sunday and Monday these things were discussed; and on the Monday Lord de Terrier absolutely stated to the Upper House that he had received her Majesty’s commands to form another government.  Mr. Daubeny, in half a dozen most modest words,—­in words hardly audible, and most unlike himself,—­made his statement in the Lower House to the same effect.  Then Mr. Ratler, and Mr. Bonteen, and Mr. Barrington Erle, and Mr. Laurence Fitzgibbon aroused themselves and swore that such things could not be.  Should the prey which they had won for themselves, the spoil of their bows and arrows, be snatched from out of their very mouths by treachery?  Lord de Terrier and Mr. Daubeny could not venture even to make another attempt unless they did so in combination with Mr. Gresham.  Such a combination, said Mr. Barrington Erle, would be disgraceful to both parties, but would prove Mr. Gresham to be as false as Satan himself.  Early on the Tuesday morning, when it was known that Mr. Gresham had been at Lord de Terrier’s house, Barrington Erle was free to confess that he had always been afraid of Mr. Gresham.  “I have felt for years,” said he, “that if anybody could break up the party it would be Mr. Gresham.”

On that Tuesday morning Mr. Gresham certainly was with Lord de Terrier, but nothing came of it.  Mr. Gresham was either not enough like Satan for the occasion, or else he was too closely like him.  Lord de Terrier did not bid high enough, or else Mr. Gresham did not like biddings from that quarter.  Nothing then came from this attempt, and on the Tuesday afternoon the Queen again sent for Mr. Mildmay.  On the Wednesday morning the gentlemen who thought that the insuperable difficulties had at length arrived, began to wear their longest faces, and to be triumphant with melancholy forebodings.  Now at last there was a dead lock.  Nobody could form a government.  It was asserted that Mr. Mildmay had fallen at her Majesty’s feet dissolved in tears, and had implored to be relieved from further responsibility.  It was well known to many at the clubs that the Queen had on that morning telegraphed to Germany for advice.  There were men so gloomy as to declare that the Queen must throw herself into the arms of Mr. Monk, unless Mr. Mildmay would consent to rise from his knees and once more buckle on his ancient armour.  “Even that would be better than Gresham,” said Barrington Erle, in his anger.  “I’ll tell you what it is,” said Ratler, “we shall have Gresham and Monk together, and you and I shall have to do their biddings.”  Mr. Barrington Erle’s reply to that suggestion I may not dare to insert in these pages.