had assumed its present shape and had therefore the gifts which were required for his special position.  Some critics on the Civil Service were no doubt apt to find fault with Mounser Green.  When called upon at his office he was never seen to be doing anything, and he always had a cigar in his mouth.  These gentlemen found out too that he never entered his office till half-past twelve, perhaps not having also learned that he was generally there till nearly seven.  No doubt during the time that he remained there he read a great many newspapers, and wrote a great many private notes,—­on official paper!  But there may be a question whether even these employments did not help to make Mounser Green the valuable man he was.

“What a lounge for Jack Slade,” said young Hoffmann.

“I’ll tell you who it won’t be a lounge for, Green,” said Archibald Currie, the clerk who held the second authority among them.  “What will Bell Trefoil think of going to Patagonia?”

“That’s all off,” said Mounser Green.

“I don’t think so,” said Charley Glossop, one of the numerous younger sons of Lord Glossop.  “She was staying only the other day down at the Paragon’s place in Rufford, and they went together to my cousin Rufford’s house.  His sister, that’s Lady Penwether, told me they were certainly engaged then.”

“That was before the Paragon had been named for Patagonia.  To tell you a little bit of my own private mind,—­which isn’t scandal,” said Mounser Green, “because it is only given as opinion,—­I think it just possible that the Paragon has taken this very uncomfortable mission because it offered him some chance of escape.”

“Then he has more sense about him than I gave him credit for,” said Archibald Currie.

“Why should a man like Morton go to Patagonia?” continued Green.  “He has an independent fortune and doesn’t want the money.  He’d have been sure to have something comfortable in Europe very soon if he had waited, and was much better off as second at a place like Washington.  I was quite surprised when he took it.”

“Patagonia isn’t bad at all,” said Currie.

“That depends on whether a man has got money of his own.  When I heard about the Paragon and Bell Trefoil at Washington, I knew there had been a mistake made.  He didn’t know what he was doing.  I’m a poor man, but I wouldn’t take her with 5,000 pounds a year, settled on myself.”  Poor Mounser Green!

“I think she’s the handsomest girl in London,” said Hoffmann, who was a young man of German parentage and perhaps of German taste.

“That may be,” continued Green; “but, heaven and earth! what a life she would lead a man like the Paragon!  He’s found it out, and therefore thought it well to go to South America.  She has declined already, I’m told; but he means to stick to the mission.”  During all this time Mounser Green was smoking his cigar with his back to the fire, and the other clerks looked as though they had nothing to do but talk about the private affairs of ministers abroad and their friends.  Of course it will be understood that since we last saw John Morton the position of Minister Plenipotentiary at Patagonia had been offered to him and that he had accepted the place in spite of Bragton and of Arabella Trefoil.