and he was appointed one of the Secretaries to the Treasury; and, as the Saturday Review expressed it at the time, the appointment was universally approved, no member of the House being better liked or more trusted. During the following years Mr. Smith was being inured to the harness of office. The Secretary to the Treasury has to be ready with his best attention for almost though not quite so extensive a miscellany of questions as the Home Secretary, for there are so few branches of administration into which the money question does not find its way, that we scarcely require to refer to published details to make sure of the conclusion that the Financial Secretary must needs have a practical mind, a ready manner, and the habits of business. Mr. Smith is a member of the Established Church, and belongs to the order of independent Liberal Conservatives, a category which does not too rigidly fetter wholesome energy. There is now no well defined traditional line dividing modern parties, and for the most part they only find themselves in opposition on some special question. Indeed, there are times when opposition can but be for the sake of opposition. In home politics we can well submit to entrust affairs to any party that will be thorough and practical. There may loom in the future differences as extreme as any in the past, but a very dark and heavy veil is at present over the social developments of the coming eras. That pauper relief should so far as possible only be exchanged for work, is a sample of Mr. Smith's practical views, and such ideas may stand firm under any new shuffling of the social cards. In 1874, when Mr. Smith became Financial Secretary to the Treasury, Mr. Ward Hunt received the appointment of First Lord of the Admiralty. He too had held the Treasury appointment some. years before, but the Chancellorship of the Exchequer intervened between this post and his last. When he died Mr. Smith succeeded him in his highest office, as he had followed him in the subordinate one. The appointment held by Mr. Smith since February, 1877, gives supreme authority in all questions of importance relating to the Admiralty, and gives its holder a seat in the Cabinet. Nominally, all the Lords of the Admiralty are Commissioners for executing the extinct office of Lord High Admiral, which kings have often held for themselves. The First Lord is the political head. He now receives £4500 per annum, and no perquisites, or droits, which used to be of varied descriptions and values. His official residence is the Admiralty, Whitehall. The Senior Naval Lord, who is the chief of the Assistant Commissioners to the First Lord, personally directs the movements of the fleet, and is answerable in matters of discipline. The Third Lord presides over the dockyards and shipbuilding. The Junior Naval Lord has to do with the victualling of the fleet, and the transport department. The Civil Lord is responsible for the accounts, and the Financial Secretary directs purchases of stores. All officers below these form the fixed administration, independent of politics. In spite of its imposing political relations the Admiralty is still not a department from which proceeds any initial movement. Its labours are nothing more than ordinary business. It deals with men and munitions, ships and stores, but only from a business point of view. A naval man is apt to be too partial or technical for the post, and in spite of sneers at landsmen, a landsman is found to make the most exemplary First Lord. Save in prestige, then, and in the magnitude of the post, Mr. Smith's position is not vitally changed from the time when his "kind face" is remembered "behind the Strand counter." And Lord Beaconsfield's ideal faculties have not erred in putting a thorough business man into a thoroughly business post. As a member of the Cabinet, it cannot be supposed that Mr. Smith has no voice at all in settling the actual policy by which we are ruled, but how the mighty potentates composing that august body really manage their affairs it is given to few to know. When a member is tumbled out of the nest, then only we get a glimpse of how the birds within it have been agreeing. IN THIS WORLD: A NOVEL. By MABEL COLLINS, Author of "An Innocent Sinner," &c. Continued from page 433. CHAPTER XIII. SOME DESULTORY TALKS. "You are determined, you say?" "Determined," answered Ernestine, with a composed gentleness seemingly born of assured decision. "I wonder," said Dr. Doldy, "whether you will be as fond of that word when you are married." Ernestine only laughed in reply to this remark, made in all serious ness. The conversation was being held in the bow-window of Mrs. Vavasour's drawing-room. The subject under discussion was one which, temporarily tabooed, Dr. Doldy had now again brought forwardthe date of the wedding day. "Well," he added, reflectively, "the months we have already managed to get through have not appeared so very long. I suppose I ought to be grateful for a few hours of your society in the course of each week." Ernestine said nothing in reply. Leaning back in her chair in a favourite and peculiar attitude which every one who knew her always associated with her, she looked silently out into the square -an outlook of a rather melancholy if dignified character. Dr. Doldy, with a glance at her, changed the conversation. "I met," said he, "at a dinner party the other night, Dr. Draper." "Oh," said Ernestine, with dexterously assumed intonation, as if the matter did not interest her much; "he is one of our visiting physicians at the hospital." So he was saying; he appears. to take a great interest in it." "I believe he does," said Ernestine, a little drily; she did not quite see where the conversation was tending, but instinctively perceived breakers ahead. But Dr. Doldy soon plunged into the actual gist of his remarks. It was an odd thing that, when with Ernestine, half his diplomatic abilities deserted him. When she turned her great inquiring eyes full upon his, it had the effect of impelling him towards the actual subject of his discourse rather more rapidly than was his wont. "He knew nothing of our connection," said Dr. Doldy, "and you cannot wonder that I was rather interested when he began to speak of you." "Of me!" exclaimed Ernestine, with something almost like apprehension. "Yes," said Dr. Doldy, conflicting emotions oddly visible in 1 his face," and though I heartily disapprove of the whole thing, I could not but be a little pleased with the way he spoke of you." But this did not melt Ernestine, who had turned her gaze out into the square again. So he had to go on, without response or encouragement. This was a form of dialogue to which she was in the habit of subjecting her friends. It was one which Dr. Doldy particularly disliked. He had always been considered a good conversationalist: but he affected the frothy, bright style of talk, in which repartee and the instantaneous flash of superficial wit are essential. With Ernestine he was continually placed in an attitude new to him; he was, by the silence with which she met remarks not very necessary, constantly being provoked into saying something which would have enough in it to arouse her interest. "He says you have done much to convince him that the medical profession may be possible for women but he thinks you are at the same time setting an example of going in the very direction in which danger is to be apprehended." "You speak riddles," riddles," said Ernestine, with ominous calmness. "I will explain myself then," said Dr. Doidy, his projected periods of speech cut short by the consciousness of Ernestine's impatience under them. "He says you work too hard.” finishing the engagement you made, it is really wrong to fling your health and strength away. But I am not doing that," said Ernestine, with the extreme quietude of manner which Dr. Doldy did not yet know her well enough to recognise as an alarming symptom. "To begin with, I am not throwing away my health, and I don't think strength is likely to be thrown away upon wholesome work. I believe I understand my own constitution, and know how to use myself economically. At all events, I am in perfect health at the present moment." "Don't you leave that hospital every day, worn out?" "I am sometimes tired when I come away; and pray, how can health be preserved without sufficient exertion to prevent organic stagnation and assist physical development? I don't wear myself out; that is as foolish as any other form of extravagance, and I have taught myself to stop short of it." "You are a wonderfully wise woman," observed Dr. Doldy, with an expressive sigh, "if you can avoid extravagance in all things." Ernestine flashed a quick glance at him, but took no other notice of this little speech. "And then," she went on, "you mistake in saying that I am not endeavouring to carve for myself a medical career. Now that is just what I am doing: a career, if not of glory, at least usefulness. And perhaps we had better come to an understanding on this subject now; it has lain fallow for a good while." of Dr. Doldy groaned below his breath. The sound of her voice was very sweet and gentle but very meaning. "I know you detest the subject," said Ernestine, growing a little more fiery. "And so do I. J But it is one which cannot be put away, and we had better face it. Whether married or no, when I leave my aunt's house and establish myself permanently anywhere else, I shall commence practising. You are not merely taking to yourself a wife; you are uniting two different careers, and you must be content to see them run side by side. Are you prepared for that?" "I suppose so," he answered, somewhat dolefully; "of course, if some of your lady friends choose to avail themselves of your knowledge, I cannot object." ་་ "I am afraid," said Ernestine, laughing a little, "that I shall want a wider scope than that." Now and again, as days went on, there occurred between the doctors conversations something like this; and as Dr. Doldy began to fully realise that Ernestine kept to her resolutions and was to be had only on her own terms, he began to yield. Moreover, he became more accustomed to her serious idea of her future; it did not seem so utterly unendurable as at first. But what most influenced him to accept the position was his own inward conviction that it would not last. All he had been fighting for was to deprive his old friends of the amusement which he knew they would feel if he set out upon married life after such fashion. However, Ernestine was plainly "determined," to use a pet expression of hers; and Dr. Doldy wisely gave in, reserving the assertion of himself as lord and master, after the fashion of men in these circumstances, until he should really become so. Not that he exactly looked forward to forcing Ernestine out of her own path, but he certainly projected many plans by which, as the leader in their united living, he could He re tempt her out of it. solved, after his marriage, to take his social position a little more fully than he had yet done. His debts cleared off, as they would be upon Laura's marriage, he would be able to do this, with greater ease than ever before. He pictured Ernestine, with her unusual beauty, heading his dinner table and accompanying him to other houses, until he had almost convinced himself that what he wished was certain to take place. Once in her right position he felt sure she would feel that she must do herself and her husband justice, and lay aside her peculiar crotchets. room And in the meantime, as he told himself, there would be no harn in furnishing for her a which she might call her consultiug-room if she liked. One morning after breakfast, he amused himself with this idea. He started on a survey of the house; truth to tell, he had done this once or twice before, since he had felt that the passage of time was really bringing him nearer to the day when he might begin in good earnest to decorate and rearrange for Ernestine's advent. He had found great pleasure in these excursions over his demesne; so many bachelor years had rolled over his head in this stately mansion that the idea of brightening it for such a presence was full of novelty. But this morning he started with a more serious face. He was thinking of, and providing for, Ernestine, and not only Ernestine but her peculiarities now; and this was more difficult and not quite so romantic, at first. But after a deliberate survey of the various. rooms which might be devoted to the especial use of the daughter of Esculapius with whom he was entering into SO odd a partnership, he paused at last in |