House of Lords are not necessarily incompatible, but like Burgundy and port they are a combination not quite suited to all constitutions. Such at least, in this case, was the view of the prime minister. In the event of Mr. Bendish really going to the House of Lords—and Mrs. Bendish was so firm on the point that it hardly admitted of doubt—it would be expedient for his Britannic majesty to seek a new secretary of state for the Home Department. In a word, would Mr. Endor take that Office?
Mr. Endor was a little staggered. The bust of Pitt was on his right hand, a set of the Encyclopedia Britannica was on his left, none the less, the prime minister's point-blank offer was in the nature of a bolt from a blue sky.
"It will mean, I'm afraid, a by-election." The honeyed voice of Mr. Wilberforce Williams had the mellifluity that endeared him to every journalist in the land. "And—don't let us deceive ourselves—my dear sir—a stiff one. To be frank—to be perfectly frank—the member for Blackhampton will not be exactly persona gratissima in Universe Building."
To the young Lothair, that was the amazing part of the whole matter. He had no claim to subtlety of mind, but he was not a fool. What was in the wind? Well he knew that for the member for Blackhampton to be given the Home Office was tantamount to Slippery Sam throwing down the gage of battle to the U. P.
