“I can't suppose it will go that far.”
“And why not, pray? When a Minister or Secretary of State dares to offend me—for it is levelled at me—by appointing my brother to such an office, he says as plainly as words can speak, 'Your sun is set; your influence is gone. We place you below the salt to-day, that to-morrow we may put you outside the door.' You cannot be supposed to know these things, but I know them. Shall I give you a counsel, sir?”
“Any advice from you, my Lord, is always acceptable.”
“Give up the line. Retire; be a gamekeeper, a billiard-marker; turn steward of a steamer, or correspond for one of the penny papers, but don't attempt to serve a country that pays its gentlemen like toll-keepers.”
Temple seemed to regard this little outburst as such an ordinary event that he dipped his pen into the ink-bottle, and was about to resume writing, when Lord Culduff said, in a sharp, peevish tone,—
“I trust your brother and sister do not mean to come to Rome?”
“I believe they do, my Lord. I think they have promised to pay the L'Estranges a visit at Albano.”
“My Lady must write at once and prevent it. This cannot possibly be permitted. Where are they now?”
“At Como. This last letter was dated from the inn at that place.”
Lord Culduff rang the bell, and directed the servant to ask if her Ladyship had gone out.