“Sir, I repeat,” he said, quite angrily, though no one had contradicted him, “that during the period that has elapsed since commencement of the present reign, the revenue of the United Kingdom has increased only one-and-a-half times, while that of the outlying Empire has multiplied five-fold.”

General admission that HARCOURT is a master in nearly every department of human knowledge.  Up to to-night fondly thought that at least he knew nothing about the Navy.  But he does; knows more than Admiral FIELD, or Admiral MAYNE, or even Colonel GOURLEY.  Presently rose and delivered slashing speech, laying low the Reverberating COLOMB as if he had been set up in the Place Vendome; reviewing the British Fleet in masterly style; nimbly running up the mainmast and sighting Jerusalem and Madagascar, to the absolute confounding of the First Lord of the Admiralty.

[Illustration:  Something more than his full height.]

“Well,” said KERANS, drawing himself up to something more than his full height, “that’s the most remarkable exhibition I ever heard, even from HARCOURT.  We’ve nothing like it on our side.  HOWORTH knows a thing or two, and HANBURY isn’t lacking in accomplishment; but for versatility, for profundity of knowledge, for readiness of grasp, whether the object be a lawyer’s brief, a Chancellor of the Exchequer’s ledger, the hilt of a sword, or the tiller of a ship, give me HARCOURT.”

Business done.—­Committee on the Navy Estimates.

Tuesday.—­WOLMER asked OLD MORALITY what about the Fog?  Couldn’t something be done to lighten it, say by appointment of Royal Commission?  OLD MORALITY beamed across House upon his young friend with expression of almost paternal solicitude.  WOLMER is Whip of the allied force.  What did he mean by suddenly springing this question on the First Lord of the Treasury?  Was there more in it than met the eye?  Had it something to do, however obscurely, with the maintenance of the Union?

CHAMBERLAIN sat on the Front Bench opposite, staring straight into space with Sphynx-like countenance.  HARTINGTON, with hat cunningly tipped over eyes, hid what secret may have lain far in their pellucid depths.  HENRY JAMES became suddenly absorbed in the brown gaiters he has recently added to the graces of his personal appearance, in pathetic admission that the natural charms of youth are at length fading.

Nothing to be gained by the inspection.  If the cause of the Union really was at stake, the springs of motive were hidden behind the smiling countenance of the Machiavellian WOLMER.  The only thing to do, and it is quite foreign to the habits of OLD MORALITY, was to meet guile with guile.  WOLMER’s question, plain enough as it appeared in print on the prosaic Orders, was, “Will Her Majesty’s Ministers consider the advisability of appointing a Royal Commission to examine and report how far the evil of Fog is one that may be mitigated by legislation?”