An Uncrowned King: A Romance of High Politics

“After question-time, the First Lord of the Treasury rose to make a statement with regard to the course of public business, the salient feature of which was the announcement that the Government found themselves compelled to appropriate all the time of private members during the remainder of the session. We understand that this action on the part of the Ministry has aroused strong feeling on both sides of the House, particularly among those members who have charge of private bills. One of the supporters of the Government who has been very hardly treated is Viscount Usk, whose bill for permitting peers to become candidates for seats in the Lower House, on relinquishing their right to a seat in the House of Lords, had obtained the first place in the ballot for Tuesday next.”

Thus far the ‘Fleet Street Gazette,’ but “strong feeling” was a mild term to apply to the sentiment evoked in the minds of honourable members by the Government statement. That a portion of their time would be confiscated they had guessed only too well, but such a drastic measure as this was quite unexpected. Rage, disappointment, and disgust were depicted on face after face along the back benches, and the popular Minister to whose task it fell to make the announcement was allowed to resume his seat without a single expression of approval. Among the most wrathful of the malcontents was Lord Usk, whose cup had been dashed from his lips in the peculiarly cruel manner noticed sympathetically by the ‘Fleet Street,’ and who sat moodily in his place, gnawing the end of his moustache, his forehead drawn into a heavy frown. Mr Forfar, the First Lord, lounging delicately from the House after hurling his thunderbolt, with his short-sighted eyes fixed on space, on the paper in his hand, on anything but the scowling faces of his supporters, encountered his gaze without intending to do so, and leaned over the benches to speak to him.