who has most to do should fix himself as well as he can where
others may be able to find him.' The Duke of St Bungay was an
old man between seventy and eighty, with hair nearly white, and
who on entering the room had to unfold himself out of various
coats and comforters. But he was in full possession not only of
his intellects but of his bodily power, showing, as many
politicians do show, that the cares of the nation may sit upon a
man's shoulders for many years without breaking or even bending
them. For the Duke had belonged to ministries nearly for the
last half century. As the chronicles have also dealt with him,
no further records of his past like shall now be given.

He had said something about the Queen, expressing gracious wishes
for the comfort of her Majesty in all these matters, something of
the inconvenience of these political journeys to and fro,
something also of the delicacy and difficulty of the operations
on hand which were enhanced by the necessity of bringing together
as cordial allies who had hitherto acted with bitter animosity
one to another, before the younger Duke said a word. 'We may as
well,' said the elder, 'make out some small provisional list, and
you can ask those you name to be with you early tomorrow. But
perhaps you have already made a list.'

'No indeed. I have not even had a pencil in my hand.'

'We may as well begin then,' said the elder facing the table when
he saw that his less-experienced companion made no attempt at
beginning.

'There is something horrible to me in the idea of writing down