The ex-Prime Minister did not carry out his purpose of leaving London in the middle of the season and travelling either to Italy or Norway. He was away from London at Whitsuntide longer perhaps than he might have been if still in office, and during this period regarded himself as a man from whose hands all work had been taken,—as one who had been found unfit to carry any longer a burden serviceably; but before June was over he and the Duchess were back in London, and gradually he allowed himself to open his mouth on this or that subject in the House of Lords,—not pitching into everybody all round, as his wife had recommended, but expressing an opinion now and again, generally in support of his friends, with the dignity which should belong to a retired¹ Prime Minister. The Duchess too recovered much of her good temper,—as far at least as the outward show went. One or two who knew her, especially Mrs. Finn, were aware that her hatred² and her ideas of revenge were not laid aside; but she went on from day to day anathematizing her special enemies and abstained³ from reproaching her husband for his pusillanimity⁴. Then came the question as to the autumn. "Let's have everybody down at Gatherum, just as we had before," said the Duchess.

The proposition almost took away the Duke's breath. "Why do you want a crowd, like that?"

"Just to show them that we are not beaten because we are turned out."

"But, inasmuch as we were turned out, we were beaten. And what has a gathering⁵ of people at my private house to do with a political man[oe]uvre? Do you especially want to go to Gatherum?"

"I hate the place. You know I do."

"Then why should you propose to go there?" He hardly yet knew his wife well enough to understand that the suggestion had been a joke. "If you don't wish to go abroad—"

"I hate going abroad."

"Then we'll remain at Matching. You don't hate Matching."

"Ah dear! There are memories there too. But you like it."

"My books are there."

"Blue-books," said the Duchess.

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