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diff --git a/18000.txt b/18000.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3f344bb..0000000 --- a/18000.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,29043 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Phineas Finn, by Anthony Trollope - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Phineas Finn - The Irish Member - - -Author: Anthony Trollope - - - -Release Date: April 7, 2006 [eBook #18000] -Most recently updated: June 9, 2010 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHINEAS FINN*** - - -E-text prepared by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D. - - - -PHINEAS FINN - -The Irish Member - -by - -ANTHONY TROLLOPE - -First published in serial form in _St. Paul's Magazine_ beginning in -1867 and in book form in 1869 - - - - - - - -CONTENTS - - VOLUME I - - I. Phineas Finn Proposes to Stand for Loughshane - II. Phineas Finn Is Elected for Loughshane - III. Phineas Finn Takes His Seat - IV. Lady Laura Standish - V. Mr. and Mrs. Low - VI. Lord Brentford's Dinner - VII. Mr. and Mrs. Bunce - VIII. The News about Mr. Mildmay and Sir Everard - IX. The New Government - X. Violet Effingham - XI. Lord Chiltern - XII. Autumnal Prospects - XIII. Saulsby Wood - XIV. Loughlinter - XV. Donald Bean's Pony - XVI. Phineas Finn Returns to Killaloe - XVII. Phineas Finn Returns to London - XVIII. Mr. Turnbull - XIX. Lord Chiltern Rides His Horse Bonebreaker - XX. The Debate on the Ballot - XXI. "Do be punctual" - XXII. Lady Baldock at Home - XXIII. Sunday in Grosvenor Place - XXIV. The Willingford Bull - XXV. Mr. Turnbull's Carriage Stops the Way - XXVI. "The First Speech" - XXVII. Phineas Discussed - XXVIII. The Second Reading Is Carried - XXIX. A Cabinet Meeting - XXX. Mr. Kennedy's Luck - XXXI. Finn for Loughton - XXXII. Lady Laura Kennedy's Headache - XXXIII. Mr. Slide's Grievance - XXXIV. Was He Honest? - XXXV. Mr. Monk upon Reform - XXXVI. Phineas Finn Makes Progress - XXXVII. A Rough Encounter - - - VOLUME II - - XXXVIII. The Duel - XXXIX. Lady Laura Is Told - XL. Madame Max Goesler - XLI. Lord Fawn - XLII. Lady Baldock Does Not Send a Card to Phineas Finn - XLIII. Promotion - XLIV. Phineas and His Friends - XLV. Miss Effingham's Four Lovers - XLVI. The Mousetrap - XLVII. Mr. Mildmay's Bill - XLVIII. "The Duke" - XLIX. The Duellists Meet - L. Again Successful - LI. Troubles at Loughlinter - LII. The First Blow - LIII. Showing How Phineas Bore the Blow - LIV. Consolation - LV. Lord Chiltern at Saulsby - LVI. What the People in Marylebone Thought - LVII. The Top Brick of the Chimney - LVIII. Rara Avis in Terris - LIX. The Earl's Wrath - LX. Madame Goesler's Politics - LXI. Another Duel - LXII. The Letter That Was Sent to Brighton - LXIII. Showing How the Duke Stood His Ground - LXIV. The Horns - LXV. The Cabinet Minister at Killaloe - LXVI. Victrix - LXVII. Job's Comforters - LXVIII. The Joint Attack - LXIX. The Temptress - LXX. The Prime Minister's House - LXXI. Comparing Notes - LXXII. Madame Goesler's Generosity - LXXIII. Amantium Irae - LXXIV. The Beginning of the End - LXXV. P. P. C. - LXXVI. Conclusion - - - - - -VOLUME I - -CHAPTER I - -Phineas Finn Proposes to Stand for Loughshane - - -Dr. Finn, of Killaloe, in county Clare, was as well known in those -parts,--the confines, that is, of the counties Clare, Limerick, -Tipperary, and Galway,--as was the bishop himself who lived in the -same town, and was as much respected. Many said that the doctor was -the richer man of the two, and the practice of his profession was -extended over almost as wide a district. Indeed the bishop whom he -was privileged to attend, although a Roman Catholic, always spoke of -their dioceses being conterminate. It will therefore be understood -that Dr. Finn,--Malachi Finn was his full name,--had obtained a wide -reputation as a country practitioner in the west of Ireland. And he -was a man sufficiently well to do, though that boast made by his -friends, that he was as warm a man as the bishop, had but little -truth to support it. Bishops in Ireland, if they live at home, even -in these days, are very warm men; and Dr. Finn had not a penny in the -world for which he had not worked hard. He had, moreover, a costly -family, five daughters and one son, and, at the time of which we -are speaking, no provision in the way of marriage or profession had -been made for any of them. Of the one son, Phineas, the hero of the -following pages, the mother and five sisters were very proud. The -doctor was accustomed to say that his goose was as good as any other -man's goose, as far as he could see as yet; but that he should like -some very strong evidence before he allowed himself to express an -opinion that the young bird partook, in any degree, of the qualities -of a swan. From which it may be gathered that Dr. Finn was a man of -common-sense. - -Phineas had come to be a swan in the estimation of his mother and -sisters by reason of certain early successes at college. His father, -whose religion was not of that bitter kind in which we in England -are apt to suppose that all the Irish Roman Catholics indulge, had -sent his son to Trinity; and there were some in the neighbourhood of -Killaloe,--patients, probably, of Dr. Duggin, of Castle Connell, a -learned physician who had spent a fruitless life in endeavouring to -make head against Dr. Finn,--who declared that old Finn would not be -sorry if his son were to turn Protestant and go in for a fellowship. -Mrs. Finn was a Protestant, and the five Miss Finns were Protestants, -and the doctor himself was very much given to dining out among his -Protestant friends on a Friday. Our Phineas, however, did not turn -Protestant up in Dublin, whatever his father's secret wishes on that -subject may have been. He did join a debating society, to success -in which his religion was no bar; and he there achieved a sort of -distinction which was both easy and pleasant, and which, making -its way down to Killaloe, assisted in engendering those ideas as -to swanhood of which maternal and sisterly minds are so sweetly -susceptible. "I know half a dozen old windbags at the present -moment," said the doctor, "who were great fellows at debating clubs -when they were boys." "Phineas is not a boy any longer," said Mrs. -Finn. "And windbags don't get college scholarships," said Matilda -Finn, the second daughter. "But papa always snubs Phinny," said -Barbara, the youngest. "I'll snub you, if you don't take care," said -the doctor, taking Barbara tenderly by the ear;--for his youngest -daughter was the doctor's pet. - -The doctor certainly did not snub his son, for he allowed him to go -over to London when he was twenty-two years of age, in order that he -might read with an English barrister. It was the doctor's wish that -his son might be called to the Irish Bar, and the young man's desire -that he might go to the English Bar. The doctor so far gave way, -under the influence of Phineas himself, and of all the young women of -the family, as to pay the usual fee to a very competent and learned -gentleman in the Middle Temple, and to allow his son one hundred and -fifty pounds per annum for three years. Dr. Finn, however, was still -firm in his intention that his son should settle in Dublin, and take -the Munster Circuit,--believing that Phineas might come to want home -influences and home connections, in spite of the swanhood which was -attributed to him. - -Phineas sat his terms for three years, and was duly called to -the Bar; but no evidence came home as to the acquirement of any -considerable amount of law lore, or even as to much law study, on -the part of the young aspirant. The learned pundit at whose feet he -had been sitting was not especially loud in praise of his pupil's -industry, though he did say a pleasant word or two as to his pupil's -intelligence. Phineas himself did not boast much of his own hard -work when at home during the long vacation. No rumours of expected -successes,--of expected professional successes,--reached the ears of -any of the Finn family at Killaloe. But, nevertheless, there came -tidings which maintained those high ideas in the maternal bosom of -which mention has been made, and which were of sufficient strength to -induce the doctor, in opposition to his own judgment, to consent to -the continued residence of his son in London. Phineas belonged to an -excellent club,--the Reform Club,--and went into very good society. -He was hand in glove with the Hon. Laurence Fitzgibbon, the youngest -son of Lord Claddagh. He was intimate with Barrington Erle, who had -been private secretary,--one of the private secretaries,--to the -great Whig Prime Minister who was lately in but was now out. He had -dined three or four times with that great Whig nobleman, the Earl of -Brentford. And he had been assured that if he stuck to the English -Bar he would certainly do well. Though he might fail to succeed in -court or in chambers, he would doubtless have given to him some -one of those numerous appointments for which none but clever young -barristers are supposed to be fitting candidates. The old doctor -yielded for another year, although at the end of the second year he -was called upon to pay a sum of three hundred pounds, which was then -due by Phineas to creditors in London. When the doctor's male friends -in and about Killaloe heard that he had done so, they said that he -was doting. Not one of the Miss Finns was as yet married; and, after -all that had been said about the doctor's wealth, it was supposed -that there would not be above five hundred pounds a year among them -all, were he to give up his profession. But the doctor, when he paid -that three hundred pounds for his son, buckled to his work again, -though he had for twelve months talked of giving up the midwifery. -He buckled to again, to the great disgust of Dr. Duggin, who at this -time said very ill-natured things about young Phineas. - -At the end of the three years Phineas was called to the Bar, and -immediately received a letter from his father asking minutely as to -his professional intentions. His father recommended him to settle -in Dublin, and promised the one hundred and fifty pounds for three -more years, on condition that this advice was followed. He did not -absolutely say that the allowance would be stopped if the advice were -not followed, but that was plainly to be implied. That letter came -at the moment of a dissolution of Parliament. Lord de Terrier, the -Conservative Prime Minister, who had now been in office for the -almost unprecedentedly long period of fifteen months, had found that -he could not face continued majorities against him in the House of -Commons, and had dissolved the House. Rumour declared that he would -have much preferred to resign, and betake himself once again to the -easy glories of opposition; but his party had naturally been obdurate -with him, and he had resolved to appeal to the country. When Phineas -received his father's letter, it had just been suggested to him at -the Reform Club that he should stand for the Irish borough of -Loughshane. - -This proposition had taken Phineas Finn so much by surprise that when -first made to him by Barrington Erle it took his breath away. What! -he stand for Parliament, twenty-four years old, with no vestige -of property belonging to him, without a penny in his purse, as -completely dependent on his father as he was when he first went to -school at eleven years of age! And for Loughshane, a little borough -in the county Galway, for which a brother of that fine old Irish -peer, the Earl of Tulla, had been sitting for the last twenty -years,--a fine, high-minded representative of the thorough-going -Orange Protestant feeling of Ireland! And the Earl of Tulla, to -whom almost all Loughshane belonged,--or at any rate the land about -Loughshane,--was one of his father's staunchest friends! Loughshane -is in county Galway, but the Earl of Tulla usually lived at his seat -in county Clare, not more than ten miles from Killaloe, and always -confided his gouty feet, and the weak nerves of the old countess, and -the stomachs of all his domestics, to the care of Dr. Finn. How was -it possible that Phineas should stand for Loughshane? From whence -was the money to come for such a contest? It was a beautiful dream, -a grand idea, lifting Phineas almost off the earth by its glory. -When the proposition was first made to him in the smoking-room at -the Reform Club by his friend Erle, he was aware that he blushed -like a girl, and that he was unable at the moment to express -himself plainly,--so great was his astonishment and so great his -gratification. But before ten minutes had passed by, while Barrington -Erle was still sitting over his shoulder on the club sofa, and before -the blushes had altogether vanished, he had seen the improbability of -the scheme, and had explained to his friend that the thing could not -be done. But to his increased astonishment, his friend made nothing -of the difficulties. Loughshane, according to Barrington Erle, was -so small a place, that the expense would be very little. There were -altogether no more than 307 registered electors. The inhabitants were -so far removed from the world, and were so ignorant of the world's -good things, that they knew nothing about bribery. The Hon. George -Morris, who had sat for the last twenty years, was very unpopular. He -had not been near the borough since the last election, he had hardly -done more than show himself in Parliament, and had neither given a -shilling in the town nor got a place under Government for a single -son of Loughshane. "And he has quarrelled with his brother," said -Barrington Erle. "The devil he has!" said Phineas. "I thought they -always swore by each other." "It's at each other they swear now," -said Barrington; "George has asked the Earl for more money, and the -Earl has cut up rusty." Then the negotiator went on to explain that -the expenses of the election would be defrayed out of a certain fund -collected for such purposes, that Loughshane had been chosen as a -cheap place, and that Phineas Finn had been chosen as a safe and -promising young man. As for qualification, if any question were -raised, that should be made all right. An Irish candidate was wanted, -and a Roman Catholic. So much the Loughshaners would require on -their own account when instigated to dismiss from their service -that thorough-going Protestant, the Hon. George Morris. Then "the -party,"--by which Barrington Erle probably meant the great man in -whose service he himself had become a politician,--required that -the candidate should be a safe man, one who would support "the -party,"--not a cantankerous, red-hot semi-Fenian, running about to -meetings at the Rotunda, and such-like, with views of his own about -tenant-right and the Irish Church. "But I have views of my own," said -Phineas, blushing again. "Of course you have, my dear boy," said -Barrington, clapping him on the back. "I shouldn't come to you unless -you had views. But your views and ours are the same, and you're -just the lad for Galway. You mightn't have such an opening again -in your life, and of course you'll stand for Loughshane." Then the -conversation was over, the private secretary went away to arrange -some other little matter of the kind, and Phineas Finn was left alone -to consider the proposition that had been made to him. - -To become a member of the British Parliament! In all those hot -contests at the two debating clubs to which he had belonged, this -had been the ambition which had moved him. For, after all, to what -purpose of their own had those empty debates ever tended? He and -three or four others who had called themselves Liberals had been -pitted against four or five who had called themselves Conservatives, -and night after night they had discussed some ponderous subject -without any idea that one would ever persuade another, or that their -talking would ever conduce to any action or to any result. But each -of these combatants had felt,--without daring to announce a hope on -the subject among themselves,--that the present arena was only a -trial-ground for some possible greater amphitheatre, for some future -debating club in which debates would lead to action, and in which -eloquence would have power, even though persuasion might be out of -the question. - -Phineas certainly had never dared to speak, even to himself, of such -a hope. The labours of the Bar had to be encountered before the dawn -of such a hope could come to him. And he had gradually learned to -feel that his prospects at the Bar were not as yet very promising. As -regarded professional work he had been idle, and how then could he -have a hope? - -And now this thing, which he regarded as being of all things in the -world the most honourable, had come to him all at once, and was -possibly within his reach! If he could believe Barrington Erle, he -had only to lift up his hand, and he might be in Parliament within -two months. And who was to be believed on such a subject if not -Barrington Erle? This was Erle's special business, and such a man -would not have come to him on such a subject had he not been in -earnest, and had he not himself believed in success. There was an -opening ready, an opening to this great glory,--if only it might be -possible for him to fill it! - -What would his father say? His father would of course oppose the -plan. And if he opposed his father, his father would of course stop -his income. And such an income as it was! Could it be that a man -should sit in Parliament and live upon a hundred and fifty pounds -a year? Since that payment of his debts he had become again -embarrassed,--to a slight amount. He owed a tailor a trifle, and a -bootmaker a trifle,--and something to the man who sold gloves and -shirts; and yet he had done his best to keep out of debt with more -than Irish pertinacity, living very closely, breakfasting upon tea -and a roll, and dining frequently for a shilling at a luncheon-house -up a court near Lincoln's Inn. Where should he dine if the -Loughshaners elected him to Parliament? And then he painted to -himself a not untrue picture of the probable miseries of a man who -begins life too high up on the ladder,--who succeeds in mounting -before he has learned how to hold on when he is aloft. For our -Phineas Finn was a young man not without sense,--not entirely a -windbag. If he did this thing the probability was that he might -become utterly a castaway, and go entirely to the dogs before he was -thirty. He had heard of penniless men who had got into Parliament, -and to whom had come such a fate. He was able to name to himself a -man or two whose barks, carrying more sail than they could bear, had -gone to pieces among early breakers in this way. But then, would -it not be better to go to pieces early than never to carry any -sail at all? And there was, at any rate, the chance of success. He -was already a barrister, and there were so many things open to a -barrister with a seat in Parliament! And as he knew of men who had -been utterly ruined by such early mounting, so also did he know of -others whose fortunes had been made by happy audacity when they were -young. He almost thought that he could die happy if he had once taken -his seat in Parliament,--if he had received one letter with those -grand initials written after his name on the address. Young men in -battle are called upon to lead forlorn hopes. Three fall, perhaps, -to one who gets through; but the one who gets through will have -the Victoria Cross to carry for the rest of his life. This was his -forlorn hope; and as he had been invited to undertake the work, he -would not turn from the danger. On the following morning he again saw -Barrington Erle by appointment, and then wrote the following letter -to his father:-- - - - Reform Club, Feb., 186--. - - MY DEAR FATHER, - - I am afraid that the purport of this letter will startle - you, but I hope that when you have finished it you will - think that I am right in my decision as to what I am going - to do. You are no doubt aware that the dissolution of - Parliament will take place at once, and that we shall be - in all the turmoil of a general election by the middle of - March. I have been invited to stand for Loughshane, and - have consented. The proposition has been made to me by my - friend Barrington Erle, Mr. Mildmay's private secretary, - and has been made on behalf of the Political Committee of - the Reform Club. I need hardly say that I should not have - thought of such a thing with a less thorough promise of - support than this gives me, nor should I think of it now - had I not been assured that none of the expense of the - election would fall upon me. Of course I could not have - asked you to pay for it. - - But to such a proposition, so made, I have felt that it - would be cowardly to give a refusal. I cannot but regard - such a selection as a great honour. I own that I am fond - of politics, and have taken great delight in their study - --("Stupid young fool!" his father said to himself as he - read this)--and it has been my dream for years past to - have a seat in Parliament at some future time. ("Dream! - yes; I wonder whether he has ever dreamed what he is to - live upon.") The chance has now come to me much earlier - than I have looked for it, but I do not think that it - should on that account be thrown away. Looking to my - profession, I find that many things are open to a - barrister with a seat in Parliament, and that the House - need not interfere much with a man's practice. ("Not if - he has got to the top of his tree," said the doctor.) - - My chief doubt arose from the fact of your old friendship - with Lord Tulla, whose brother has filled the seat for I - don't know how many years. But it seems that George Morris - must go; or, at least, that he must be opposed by a - Liberal candidate. If I do not stand, some one else will, - and I should think that Lord Tulla will be too much of a - man to make any personal quarrel on such a subject. If he - is to lose the borough, why should not I have it as well - as another? - - I can fancy, my dear father, all that you will say as to - my imprudence, and I quite confess that I have not a word - to answer. I have told myself more than once, since last - night, that I shall probably ruin myself. ("I wonder - whether he has ever told himself that he will probably - ruin me also," said the doctor.) But I am prepared to ruin - myself in such a cause. I have no one dependent on me; - and, as long as I do nothing to disgrace my name, I may - dispose of myself as I please. If you decide on stopping - my allowance, I shall have no feeling of anger against - you. ("How very considerate!" said the doctor.) And in - that case I shall endeavour to support myself by my pen. - I have already done a little for the magazines. - - Give my best love to my mother and sisters. If you will - receive me during the time of the election, I shall see - them soon. Perhaps it will be best for me to say that I - have positively decided on making the attempt; that is to - say, if the Club Committee is as good as its promise. I - have weighed the matter all round, and I regard the prize - as being so great, that I am prepared to run any risk to - obtain it. Indeed, to me, with my views about politics, - the running of such a risk is no more than a duty. I - cannot keep my hand from the work now that the work has - come in the way of my hand. I shall be most anxious to get - a line from you in answer to this. - - Your most affectionate son, - - PHINEAS FINN. - - -I question whether Dr. Finn, when he read this letter, did not feel -more of pride than of anger,--whether he was not rather gratified -than displeased, in spite of all that his common-sense told him on -the subject. His wife and daughters, when they heard the news, were -clearly on the side of the young man. Mrs. Finn immediately expressed -an opinion that Parliament would be the making of her son, and that -everybody would be sure to employ so distinguished a barrister. The -girls declared that Phineas ought, at any rate, to have his chance, -and almost asserted that it would be brutal in their father to stand -in their brother's way. It was in vain that the doctor tried to -explain that going into Parliament could not help a young barrister, -whatever it might do for one thoroughly established in his -profession; that Phineas, if successful at Loughshane, would at once -abandon all idea of earning any income,--that the proposition, coming -from so poor a man, was a monstrosity,--that such an opposition -to the Morris family, coming from a son of his, would be gross -ingratitude to Lord Tulla. Mrs. Finn and the girls talked him down, -and the doctor himself was almost carried away by something like -vanity in regard to his son's future position. - -Nevertheless he wrote a letter strongly advising Phineas to abandon -the project. But he himself was aware that the letter which he wrote -was not one from which any success could be expected. He advised -his son, but did not command him. He made no threats as to stopping -his income. He did not tell Phineas, in so many words, that he was -proposing to make an ass of himself. He argued very prudently against -the plan, and Phineas, when he received his father's letter, of -course felt that it was tantamount to a paternal permission to -proceed with the matter. On the next day he got a letter from his -mother full of affection, full of pride,--not exactly telling him to -stand for Loughshane by all means, for Mrs. Finn was not the woman to -run openly counter to her husband in any advice given by her to their -son,--but giving him every encouragement which motherly affection and -motherly pride could bestow. "Of course you will come to us," she -said, "if you do make up your mind to be member for Loughshane. We -shall all of us be so delighted to have you!" Phineas, who had fallen -into a sea of doubt after writing to his father, and who had demanded -a week from Barrington Erle to consider the matter, was elated to -positive certainty by the joint effect of the two letters from home. -He understood it all. His mother and sisters were altogether in -favour of his audacity, and even his father was not disposed to -quarrel with him on the subject. - -"I shall take you at your word," he said to Barrington Erle at the -club that evening. - -"What word?" said Erle, who had too many irons in the fire to be -thinking always of Loughshane and Phineas Finn,--or who at any rate -did not choose to let his anxiety on the subject be seen. - -"About Loughshane." - -"All right, old fellow; we shall be sure to carry you through. The -Irish writs will be out on the third of March, and the sooner you're -there the better." - - - - -CHAPTER II - -Phineas Finn Is Elected for Loughshane - - -One great difficulty about the borough vanished in a very wonderful -way at the first touch. Dr. Finn, who was a man stout at heart, -and by no means afraid of his great friends, drove himself over to -Castlemorris to tell his news to the Earl, as soon as he got a second -letter from his son declaring his intention of proceeding with the -business, let the results be what they might. Lord Tulla was a -passionate old man, and the doctor expected that there would be a -quarrel;--but he was prepared to face that. He was under no special -debt of gratitude to the lord, having given as much as he had taken -in the long intercourse which had existed between them;--and he -agreed with his son in thinking that if there was to be a Liberal -candidate at Loughshane, no consideration of old pill-boxes and -gallipots should deter his son Phineas from standing. Other -considerations might very probably deter him, but not that. The Earl -probably would be of a different opinion, and the doctor felt it to -be incumbent on him to break the news to Lord Tulla. - -"The devil he is!" said the Earl, when the doctor had told his story. -"Then I'll tell you what, Finn, I'll support him." - -"You support him, Lord Tulla!" - -"Yes;--why shouldn't I support him? I suppose it's not so bad with me -in the country that my support will rob him of his chance! I'll tell -you one thing for certain, I won't support George Morris." - -"But, my lord--" - -"Well; go on." - -"I've never taken much part in politics myself, as you know; but my -boy Phineas is on the other side." - -"I don't care a ---- for sides. What has my party done for me? -Look at my cousin, Dick Morris. There's not a clergyman in Ireland -stauncher to them than he has been, and now they've given the deanery -of Kilfenora to a man that never had a father, though I condescended -to ask for it for my cousin. Let them wait till I ask for anything -again." Dr. Finn, who knew all about Dick Morris's debts, and who had -heard of his modes of preaching, was not surprised at the decision -of the Conservative bestower of Irish Church patronage; but on this -subject he said nothing. "And as for George," continued the Earl, "I -will never lift my hand again for him. His standing for Loughshane -would be quite out of the question. My own tenants wouldn't vote for -him if I were to ask them myself. Peter Blake"--Mr. Peter Blake was -the lord's agent--"told me only a week ago that it would be useless. -The whole thing is gone, and for my part I wish they'd disenfranchise -the borough. I wish they'd disenfranchise the whole country, and send -us a military governor. What's the use of such members as we send? -There isn't one gentleman among ten of them. Your son is welcome for -me. What support I can give him he shall have, but it isn't much. I -suppose he had better come and see me." - -The doctor promised that his son should ride over to Castlemorris, -and then took his leave,--not specially flattered, as he felt that -were his son to be returned, the Earl would not regard him as the -one gentleman among ten whom the county might send to leaven the -remainder of its members,--but aware that the greatest impediment -in his son's way was already removed. He certainly had not gone to -Castlemorris with any idea of canvassing for his son, and yet he had -canvassed for him most satisfactorily. When he got home he did not -know how to speak of the matter otherwise than triumphantly to his -wife and daughters. Though he desired to curse, his mouth would speak -blessings. Before that evening was over the prospects of Phineas at -Loughshane were spoken of with open enthusiasm before the doctor, -and by the next day's post a letter was written to him by Matilda, -informing him that the Earl was prepared to receive him with open -arms. "Papa has been over there and managed it all," said Matilda. - -"I'm told George Morris isn't going to stand," said Barrington Erle -to Phineas the night before his departure. - -"His brother won't support him. His brother means to support me," -said Phineas. - -"That can hardly be so." - -"But I tell you it is. My father has known the Earl these twenty -years, and has managed it." - -"I say, Finn, you're not going to play us a trick, are you?" said Mr. -Erle, with something like dismay in his voice. - -"What sort of trick?" - -"You're not coming out on the other side?" - -"Not if I know it," said Phineas, proudly. "Let me assure you I -wouldn't change my views in politics either for you or for the Earl, -though each of you carried seats in your breeches pockets. If I go -into Parliament, I shall go there as a sound Liberal,--not to support -a party, but to do the best I can for the country. I tell you so, and -I shall tell the Earl the same." - -Barrington Erle turned away in disgust. Such language was to him -simply disgusting. It fell upon his ears as false maudlin sentiment -falls on the ears of the ordinary honest man of the world. Barrington -Erle was a man ordinarily honest. He would not have been untrue to -his mother's brother, William Mildmay, the great Whig Minister of the -day, for any earthly consideration. He was ready to work with wages -or without wages. He was really zealous in the cause, not asking -very much for himself. He had some undefined belief that it was much -better for the country that Mr. Mildmay should be in power than -that Lord de Terrier should be there. He was convinced that Liberal -politics were good for Englishmen, and that Liberal politics and the -Mildmay party were one and the same thing. It would be unfair to -Barrington Erle to deny to him some praise for patriotism. But he -hated the very name of independence in Parliament, and when he was -told of any man, that that man intended to look to measures and not -to men, he regarded that man as being both unstable as water and -dishonest as the wind. No good could possibly come from such a one, -and much evil might and probably would come. Such a politician was a -Greek to Barrington Erle, from whose hands he feared to accept even -the gift of a vote. Parliamentary hermits were distasteful to him, -and dwellers in political caves were regarded by him with aversion -as being either knavish or impractical. With a good Conservative -opponent he could shake hands almost as readily as with a good Whig -ally; but the man who was neither flesh nor fowl was odious to him. -According to his theory of parliamentary government, the House of -Commons should be divided by a marked line, and every member should -be required to stand on one side of it or on the other. "If not -with me, at any rate be against me," he would have said to every -representative of the people in the name of the great leader whom he -followed. He thought that debates were good, because of the people -outside,--because they served to create that public opinion which was -hereafter to be used in creating some future House of Commons; but he -did not think it possible that any vote should be given on a great -question, either this way or that, as the result of a debate; and he -was certainly assured in his own opinion that any such changing of -votes would be dangerous, revolutionary, and almost unparliamentary. -A member's vote,--except on some small crotchety open question thrown -out for the amusement of crotchety members,--was due to the leader of -that member's party. Such was Mr. Erle's idea of the English system -of Parliament, and, lending semi-official assistance as he did -frequently to the introduction of candidates into the House, he was -naturally anxious that his candidates should be candidates after his -own heart. When, therefore, Phineas Finn talked of measures and not -men, Barrington Erle turned away in open disgust. But he remembered -the youth and extreme rawness of the lad, and he remembered also the -careers of other men. - -Barrington Erle was forty, and experience had taught him something. -After a few seconds, he brought himself to think mildly of the young -man's vanity,--as of the vanity of a plunging colt who resents the -liberty even of a touch. "By the end of the first session the thong -will be cracked over his head, as he patiently assists in pulling the -coach up hill, without producing from him even a flick of his tail," -said Barrington Erle to an old parliamentary friend. - -"If he were to come out after all on the wrong side," said the -parliamentary friend. - -Erle admitted that such a trick as that would be unpleasant, but -he thought that old Lord Tulla was hardly equal to so clever a -stratagem. - -Phineas went to Ireland, and walked over the course at Loughshane. -He called upon Lord Tulla, and heard that venerable nobleman talk a -great deal of nonsense. To tell the truth of Phineas, I must confess -that he wished to talk the nonsense himself; but the Earl would not -hear him, and put him down very quickly. "We won't discuss politics, -if you please, Mr. Finn; because, as I have already said, I am -throwing aside all political considerations." Phineas, therefore, was -not allowed to express his views on the government of the country in -the Earl's sitting-room at Castlemorris. There was, however, a good -time coming; and so, for the present, he allowed the Earl to ramble -on about the sins of his brother George, and the want of all proper -pedigree on the part of the new Dean of Kilfenora. The conference -ended with an assurance on the part of Lord Tulla that if the -Loughshaners chose to elect Mr. Phineas Finn he would not be in the -least offended. The electors did elect Mr. Phineas Finn,--perhaps -for the reason given by one of the Dublin Conservative papers, which -declared that it was all the fault of the Carlton Club in not sending -a proper candidate. There was a great deal said about the matter, -both in London and Dublin, and the blame was supposed to fall on -the joint shoulders of George Morris and his elder brother. In the -meantime, our hero, Phineas Finn, had been duly elected member of -Parliament for the borough of Loughshane. - -The Finn family could not restrain their triumphings at Killaloe, and -I do not know that it would have been natural had they done so. A -gosling from such a flock does become something of a real swan by -getting into Parliament. The doctor had his misgivings,--had great -misgivings, fearful forebodings; but there was the young man elected, -and he could not help it. He could not refuse his right hand to his -son or withdraw his paternal assistance because that son had been -specially honoured among the young men of his country. So he pulled -out of his hoard what sufficed to pay off outstanding debts,--they -were not heavy,--and undertook to allow Phineas two hundred and fifty -pounds a year as long as the session should last. - -There was a widow lady living at Killaloe who was named Mrs. Flood -Jones, and she had a daughter. She had a son also, born to inherit -the property of the late Floscabel Flood Jones of Floodborough, as -soon as that property should have disembarrassed itself; but with -him, now serving with his regiment in India, we shall have no -concern. Mrs. Flood Jones was living modestly at Killaloe on her -widow's jointure,--Floodborough having, to tell the truth, pretty -nearly fallen into absolute ruin,--and with her one daughter, Mary. -Now on the evening before the return of Phineas Finn, Esq., M.P., to -London, Mrs. and Miss Flood Jones drank tea at the doctor's house. - -"It won't make a bit of change in him," Barbara Finn said to her -friend Mary, up in some bedroom privacy before the tea-drinking -ceremonies had altogether commenced. - -"Oh, it must," said Mary. - -"I tell you it won't, my dear; he is so good and so true." - -"I know he is good, Barbara; and as for truth, there is no question -about it, because he has never said a word to me that he might not -say to any girl." - -"That's nonsense, Mary." - -"He never has, then, as sure as the blessed Virgin watches over -us;--only you don't believe she does." - -"Never mind about the Virgin now, Mary." - -"But he never has. Your brother is nothing to me, Barbara." - -"Then I hope he will be before the evening is over. He was walking -with you all yesterday and the day before." - -"Why shouldn't he,--and we that have known each other all our lives? -But, Barbara, pray, pray never say a word of this to any one!" - -"Is it I? Wouldn't I cut out my tongue first?" - -"I don't know why I let you talk to me in this way. There has never -been anything between me and Phineas,--your brother I mean." - -"I know whom you mean very well." - -"And I feel quite sure that there never will be. Why should there? -He'll go out among great people and be a great man; and I've already -found out that there's a certain Lady Laura Standish whom he admires -very much." - -"Lady Laura Fiddlestick!" - -"A man in Parliament, you know, may look up to anybody," said Miss -Mary Flood Jones. - -"I want Phin to look up to you, my dear." - -"That wouldn't be looking up. Placed as he is now, that would be -looking down; and he is so proud that he'll never do that. But come -down, dear, else they'll wonder where we are." - -Mary Flood Jones was a little girl about twenty years of age, with -the softest hair in the world, of a colour varying between brown and -auburn,--for sometimes you would swear it was the one and sometimes -the other; and she was as pretty as ever she could be. She was one -of those girls, so common in Ireland, whom men, with tastes that way -given, feel inclined to take up and devour on the spur of the moment; -and when she liked her lion, she had a look about her which seemed to -ask to be devoured. There are girls so cold-looking,--pretty girls, -too, ladylike, discreet, and armed with all accomplishments,--whom to -attack seems to require the same sort of courage, and the same sort -of preparation, as a journey in quest of the north-west passage. One -thinks of a pedestal near the Athenaeum as the most appropriate and -most honourable reward of such courage. But, again, there are other -girls to abstain from attacking whom is, to a man of any warmth -of temperament, quite impossible. They are like water when one is -athirst, like plovers' eggs in March, like cigars when one is out -in the autumn. No one ever dreams of denying himself when such -temptation comes in the way. It often happens, however, that in spite -of appearances, the water will not come from the well, nor the egg -from its shell, nor will the cigar allow itself to be lit. A girl of -such appearance, so charming, was Mary Flood Jones of Killaloe, and -our hero Phineas was not allowed to thirst in vain for a drop from -the cool spring. - -When the girls went down into the drawing-room Mary was careful to -go to a part of the room quite remote from Phineas, so as to seat -herself between Mrs. Finn and Dr. Finn's young partner, Mr. Elias -Bodkin, from Ballinasloe. But Mrs. Finn and the Miss Finns and all -Killaloe knew that Mary had no love for Mr. Bodkin, and when Mr. -Bodkin handed her the hot cake she hardly so much as smiled at him. -But in two minutes Phineas was behind her chair, and then she smiled; -and in five minutes more she had got herself so twisted round that -she was sitting in a corner with Phineas and his sister Barbara; and -in two more minutes Barbara had returned to Mr. Elias Bodkin, so that -Phineas and Mary were uninterrupted. They manage these things very -quickly and very cleverly in Killaloe. - -"I shall be off to-morrow morning by the early train," said Phineas. - -"So soon;--and when will you have to begin,--in Parliament, I mean?" - -"I shall have to take my seat on Friday. I'm going back just in -time." - -"But when shall we hear of your saying something?" - -"Never, probably. Not one in ten who go into Parliament ever do say -anything." - -"But you will; won't you? I hope you will. I do so hope you will -distinguish yourself;--because of your sister, and for the sake of -the town, you know." - -"And is that all, Mary?" - -"Isn't that enough?" - -"You don't care a bit about myself, then?" - -"You know that I do. Haven't we been friends ever since we were -children? Of course it will be a great pride to me that a person whom -I have known so intimately should come to be talked about as a great -man." - -"I shall never be talked about as a great man." - -"You're a great man to me already, being in Parliament. Only -think;--I never saw a member of Parliament in my life before." - -"You've seen the bishop scores of times." - -"Is he in Parliament? Ah, but not like you. He couldn't come to be -a Cabinet Minister, and one never reads anything about him in the -newspapers. I shall expect to see your name, very often, and I shall -always look for it. 'Mr. Phineas Finn paired off with Mr. Mildmay.' -What is the meaning of pairing off?" - -"I'll explain it all to you when I come back, after learning my -lesson." - -"Mind you do come back. But I don't suppose you ever will. You will -be going somewhere to see Lady Laura Standish when you are not wanted -in Parliament." - -"Lady Laura Standish!" - -"And why shouldn't you? Of course, with your prospects, you should -go as much as possible among people of that sort. Is Lady Laura very -pretty?" - -"She's about six feet high." - -"Nonsense. I don't believe that." - -"She would look as though she were, standing by you." - -"Because I am so insignificant and small." - -"Because your figure is perfect, and because she is straggling. She -is as unlike you as possible in everything. She has thick lumpy red -hair, while yours is all silk and softness. She has large hands and -feet, and--" - -"Why, Phineas, you are making her out to be an ogress, and yet I know -that you admire her." - -"So I do, because she possesses such an appearance of power. And -after all, in spite of the lumpy hair, and in spite of large hands -and straggling figure, she is handsome. One can't tell what it is. -One can see that she is quite contented with herself, and intends to -make others contented with her. And so she does." - -"I see you are in love with her, Phineas." - -"No; not in love,--not with her at least. Of all men in the world, I -suppose that I am the last that has a right to be in love. I daresay -I shall marry some day." - -"I'm sure I hope you will." - -"But not till I'm forty or perhaps fifty years old. If I was not fool -enough to have what men call a high ambition I might venture to be in -love now." - -"I'm sure I'm very glad that you've got a high ambition. It is what -every man ought to have; and I've no doubt that we shall hear of your -marriage soon,--very soon. And then,--if she can help you in your -ambition, we--shall--all--be so--glad." - -Phineas did not say a word further then. Perhaps some commotion among -the party broke up the little private conversation in the corner. And -he was not alone with Mary again till there came a moment for him -to put her cloak over her shoulders in the back parlour, while Mrs. -Flood Jones was finishing some important narrative to his mother. It -was Barbara, I think, who stood in some doorway, and prevented people -from passing, and so gave him the opportunity which he abused. - -"Mary," said he, taking her in his arms, without a single word of -love-making beyond what the reader has heard,--"one kiss before we -part." - -"No, Phineas, no!" But the kiss had been taken and given before she -had even answered him. "Oh, Phineas, you shouldn't!" - -"I should. Why shouldn't I? And, Mary, I will have one morsel of your -hair." - -"You shall not; indeed you shall not!" But the scissors were at hand, -and the ringlet was cut and in his pocket before she was ready with -her resistance. There was nothing further;--not a word more, and Mary -went away with her veil down, under her mother's wing, weeping sweet -silent tears which no one saw. - -"You do love her; don't you, Phineas?" asked Barbara. - -"Bother! Do you go to bed, and don't trouble yourself about such -trifles. But mind you're up, old girl, to see me off in the morning." - -Everybody was up to see him off in the morning, to give him coffee -and good advice, and kisses, and to throw all manner of old shoes -after him as he started on his great expedition to Parliament. His -father gave him an extra twenty-pound note, and begged him for God's -sake to be careful about his money. His mother told him always to -have an orange in his pocket when he intended to speak longer than -usual. And Barbara in a last whisper begged him never to forget dear -Mary Flood Jones. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -Phineas Finn Takes His Seat - - -Phineas had many serious, almost solemn thoughts on his journey -towards London. I am sorry I must assure my female readers that very -few of them had reference to Mary Flood Jones. He had, however, very -carefully packed up the tress, and could bring that out for proper -acts of erotic worship at seasons in which his mind might be less -engaged with affairs of state than it was at present. Would he make a -failure of this great matter which he had taken in hand? He could not -but tell himself that the chances were twenty to one against him. Now -that he looked nearer at it all, the difficulties loomed larger than -ever, and the rewards seemed to be less, more difficult of approach, -and more evanescent. How many members were there who could never get -a hearing! How many who only spoke to fail! How many, who spoke well, -who could speak to no effect as far as their own worldly prospects -were concerned! He had already known many members of Parliament to -whom no outward respect or sign of honour was ever given by any one; -and it seemed to him, as he thought over it, that Irish members of -Parliament were generally treated with more indifference than any -others. There were O'B---- and O'C---- and O'D----, for whom no one -cared a straw, who could hardly get men to dine with them at the -club, and yet they were genuine members of Parliament. Why should he -ever be better than O'B----, or O'C----, or O'D----? And in what way -should he begin to be better? He had an idea of the fashion after -which it would be his duty to strive that he might excel those -gentlemen. He did not give any of them credit for much earnestness -in their country's behalf, and he was minded to be very earnest. He -would go to his work honestly and conscientiously, determined to do -his duty as best he might, let the results to himself be what they -would. This was a noble resolution, and might have been pleasant to -him,--had he not remembered that smile of derision which had come -over his friend Erle's face when he declared his intention of doing -his duty to his country as a Liberal, and not of supporting a party. -O'B---- and O'C---- and O'D---- were keen enough to support their -party, only they were sometimes a little astray at knowing which -was their party for the nonce. He knew that Erle and such men would -despise him if he did not fall into the regular groove,--and if the -Barrington Erles despised him, what would then be left for him? - -His moody thoughts were somewhat dissipated when he found one -Laurence Fitzgibbon,--the Honourable Laurence Fitzgibbon,--a special -friend of his own, and a very clever fellow, on board the boat as it -steamed out of Kingston harbour. Laurence Fitzgibbon had also just -been over about his election, and had been returned as a matter of -course for his father's county. Laurence Fitzgibbon had sat in the -House for the last fifteen years, and was yet well-nigh as young a -man as any in it. And he was a man altogether different from the -O'B----s, O'C----s, and O'D----s. Laurence Fitzgibbon could always -get the ear of the House if he chose to speak, and his friends -declared that he might have been high up in office long since if he -would have taken the trouble to work. He was a welcome guest at the -houses of the very best people, and was a friend of whom any one -might be proud. It had for two years been a feather in the cap of -Phineas that he knew Laurence Fitzgibbon. And yet people said that -Laurence Fitzgibbon had nothing of his own, and men wondered how he -lived. He was the youngest son of Lord Claddagh, an Irish peer with a -large family, who could do nothing for Laurence, his favourite child, -beyond finding him a seat in Parliament. - -"Well, Finn, my boy," said Laurence, shaking hands with the young -member on board the steamer, "so you've made it all right at -Loughshane." Then Phineas was beginning to tell all the story, -the wonderful story, of George Morris and the Earl of Tulla,--how -the men of Loughshane had elected him without opposition; how he -had been supported by Conservatives as well as Liberals;--how -unanimous Loughshane had been in electing him, Phineas Finn, as its -representative. But Mr. Fitzgibbon seemed to care very little about -all this, and went so far as to declare that those things were -accidents which fell out sometimes one way and sometimes another, -and were altogether independent of any merit or demerit on the part -of the candidate himself. And it was marvellous and almost painful -to Phineas that his friend Fitzgibbon should accept the fact of his -membership with so little of congratulation,--with absolutely no -blowing of trumpets whatever. Had he been elected a member of the -municipal corporation of Loughshane, instead of its representative in -the British Parliament, Laurence Fitzgibbon could not have made less -fuss about it. Phineas was disappointed, but he took the cue from his -friend too quickly to show his disappointment. And when, half an hour -after their meeting, Fitzgibbon had to be reminded that his companion -was not in the House during the last session, Phineas was able to -make the remark as though he thought as little about the House as did -the old-accustomed member himself. - -"As far as I can see as yet," said Fitzgibbon, "we are sure to have -seventeen." - -"Seventeen?" said Phineas, not quite understanding the meaning of the -number quoted. - -"A majority of seventeen. There are four Irish counties and three -Scotch which haven't returned as yet; but we know pretty well what -they'll do. There's a doubt about Tipperary, of course, but whichever -gets in of the seven who are standing, it will be a vote on our side. -Now the Government can't live against that. The uphill strain is too -much for them." - -"According to my idea, nothing can justify them in trying to live -against a majority." - -"That's gammon. When the thing is so equal, anything is fair. But you -see they don't like it. Of course there are some among them as hungry -as we are; and Dubby would give his toes and fingers to remain in." -Dubby was the ordinary name by which, among friends and foes, Mr. -Daubeny was known: Mr. Daubeny, who at that time was the leader of -the Conservative party in the House of Commons. "But most of them," -continued Mr. Fitzgibbon, "prefer the other game, and if you don't -care about money, upon my word it's the pleasanter game of the two." - -"But the country gets nothing done by a Tory Government." - -"As to that, it's six of one and half a dozen of the other. I never -knew a government yet that wanted to do anything. Give a government -a real strong majority, as the Tories used to have half a century -since, and as a matter of course it will do nothing. Why should -it? Doing things, as you call it, is only bidding for power,--for -patronage and pay." - -"And is the country to have no service done?" - -"The country gets quite as much service as it pays for,--and perhaps -a little more. The clerks in the offices work for the country. And -the Ministers work too, if they've got anything to manage. There is -plenty of work done;--but of work in Parliament, the less the better, -according to my ideas. It's very little that ever is done, and that -little is generally too much." - -"But the people--" - -"Come down and have a glass of brandy-and-water, and leave the people -alone for the present. The people can take care of themselves a great -deal better than we can take care of them." Mr. Fitzgibbon's doctrine -as to the commonwealth was very different from that of Barrington -Erle, and was still less to the taste of the new member. Barrington -Erle considered that his leader, Mr. Mildmay, should be intrusted to -make all necessary changes in the laws, and that an obedient House of -Commons should implicitly obey that leader in authorising all changes -proposed by him;--but according to Barrington Erle, such changes -should be numerous and of great importance, and would, if duly passed -into law at his lord's behest, gradually produce such a Whig Utopia -in England as has never yet been seen on the face of the earth. -Now, according to Mr. Fitzgibbon, the present Utopia would be good -enough,--if only he himself might be once more put into possession -of a certain semi-political place about the Court, from which he had -heretofore drawn L1,000 per annum, without any work, much to his -comfort. He made no secret of his ambition, and was chagrined simply -at the prospect of having to return to his electors before he could -enjoy those good things which he expected to receive from the -undoubted majority of seventeen, which had been, or would be, -achieved. - -"I hate all change as a rule," said Fitzgibbon; "but, upon my word, -we ought to alter that. When a fellow has got a crumb of comfort, -after waiting for it years and years, and perhaps spending thousands -in elections, he has to go back and try his hand again at the last -moment, merely in obedience to some antiquated prejudice. Look at -poor Jack Bond,--the best friend I ever had in the world. He was -wrecked upon that rock for ever. He spent every shilling he had in -contesting Romford three times running,--and three times running -he got in. Then they made him Vice-Comptroller of the Granaries, -and I'm shot if he didn't get spilt at Romford on standing for his -re-election!" - -"And what became of him?" - -"God knows. I think I heard that he married an old woman and settled -down somewhere. I know he never came up again. Now, I call that a -confounded shame. I suppose I'm safe down in Mayo, but there's no -knowing what may happen in these days." - -As they parted at Euston Square, Phineas asked his friend some little -nervous question as to the best mode of making a first entrance into -the House. Would Laurence Fitzgibbon see him through the difficulties -of the oath-taking? But Laurence Fitzgibbon made very little of the -difficulty. "Oh;--you just come down, and there'll be a rush of -fellows, and you'll know everybody. You'll have to hang about for an -hour or so, and then you'll get pushed through. There isn't time for -much ceremony after a general election." - -Phineas reached London early in the morning, and went home to bed -for an hour or so. The House was to meet on that very day, and he -intended to begin his parliamentary duties at once if he should find -it possible to get some one to accompany him; He felt that he should -lack courage to go down to Westminster Hall alone, and explain to -the policeman and door-keepers that he was the man who had just been -elected member for Loughshane. So about noon he went into the Reform -Club, and there he found a great crowd of men, among whom there was a -plentiful sprinkling of members. Erle saw him in a moment, and came -to him with congratulations. - -"So you're all right, Finn," said he. - -"Yes; I'm all right,--I didn't have much doubt about it when I went -over." - -"I never heard of a fellow with such a run of luck," said Erle. "It's -just one of those flukes that occur once in a dozen elections. Any -one on earth might have got in without spending a shilling." - -Phineas didn't at all like this. "I don't think any one could have -got in," said he, "without knowing Lord Tulla." - -"Lord Tulla was nowhere, my dear boy, and could have nothing to say -to it. But never mind that. You meet me in the lobby at two. There'll -be a lot of us there, and we'll go in together. Have you seen -Fitzgibbon?" Then Barrington Erle went off to other business, and -Finn was congratulated by other men. But it seemed to him that the -congratulations of his friends were not hearty. He spoke to some men, -of whom he thought that he knew they would have given their eyes -to be in Parliament;--and yet they spoke of his success as being a -very ordinary thing. "Well, my boy, I hope you like it," said one -middle-aged gentleman whom he had known ever since he came up to -London. "The difference is between working for nothing and working -for money. You'll have to work for nothing now." - -"That's about it, I suppose," said Phineas. - -"They say the House is a comfortable club," said the middle-aged -friend, "but I confess that I shouldn't like being rung away from my -dinner myself." - -At two punctually Phineas was in the lobby at Westminster, and then -he found himself taken into the House with a crowd of other men. The -old and young, and they who were neither old nor young, were mingled -together, and there seemed to be very little respect of persons. On -three or four occasions there was some cheering when a popular man or -a great leader came in; but the work of the day left but little clear -impression on the mind of the young member. He was confused, half -elated, half disappointed, and had not his wits about him. He found -himself constantly regretting that he was there; and as constantly -telling himself that he, hardly yet twenty-five, without a shilling -of his own, had achieved an entrance into that assembly which by the -consent of all men is the greatest in the world, and which many of -the rich magnates of the country had in vain spent heaps of treasure -in their endeavours to open to their own footsteps. He tried hard to -realise what he had gained, but the dust and the noise and the crowds -and the want of something august to the eye were almost too strong -for him. He managed, however, to take the oath early among those who -took it, and heard the Queen's speech read and the Address moved and -seconded. He was seated very uncomfortably, high up on a back seat, -between two men whom he did not know; and he found the speeches to be -very long. He had been in the habit of seeing such speeches reported -in about a column, and he thought that these speeches must take at -least four columns each. He sat out the debate on the Address till -the House was adjourned, and then he went away to dine at his club. -He did go into the dining-room of the House, but there was a crowd -there, and he found himself alone,--and to tell the truth, he was -afraid to order his dinner. - -The nearest approach to a triumph which he had in London came to him -from the glory which his election reflected upon his landlady. She -was a kindly good motherly soul, whose husband was a journeyman -law-stationer, and who kept a very decent house in Great Marlborough -Street. Here Phineas had lodged since he had been in London, and was -a great favourite. "God bless my soul, Mr. Phineas," said she, "only -think of your being a member of Parliament!" - -"Yes, I'm a member of Parliament, Mrs. Bunce." - -"And you'll go on with the rooms the same as ever? Well, I never -thought to have a member of Parliament in 'em." - -Mrs. Bunce really had realised the magnitude of the step which her -lodger had taken, and Phineas was grateful to her. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -Lady Laura Standish - - -Phineas, in describing Lady Laura Standish to Mary Flood Jones at -Killaloe, had not painted her in very glowing colours. Nevertheless -he admired Lady Laura very much, and she was worthy of admiration. It -was probably the greatest pride of our hero's life that Lady Laura -Standish was his friend, and that she had instigated him to undertake -the risk of parliamentary life. Lady Laura was intimate also with -Barrington Erle, who was, in some distant degree, her cousin; -and Phineas was not without a suspicion that his selection for -Loughshane, from out of all the young liberal candidates, may have -been in some degree owing to Lady Laura's influence with Barrington -Erle. He was not unwilling that it should be so; for though, -as he had repeatedly told himself, he was by no means in love -with Lady Laura,--who was, as he imagined, somewhat older than -himself,--nevertheless, he would feel gratified at accepting anything -from her hands, and he felt a keen desire for some increase to those -ties of friendship which bound them together. No;--he was not in love -with Lady Laura Standish. He had not the remotest idea of asking her -to be his wife. So he told himself, both before he went over for his -election, and after his return. When he had found himself in a corner -with poor little Mary Flood Jones, he had kissed her as a matter of -course; but he did not think that he could, in any circumstances, be -tempted to kiss Lady Laura. He supposed that he was in love with his -darling little Mary,--after a fashion. Of course, it could never come -to anything, because of the circumstances of his life, which were -so imperious to him. He was not in love with Lady Laura, and yet he -hoped that his intimacy with her might come to much. He had more than -once asked himself how he would feel when somebody else came to be -really in love with Lady Laura,--for she was by no means a woman to -lack lovers,--when some one else should be in love with her, and be -received by her as a lover; but this question he had never been able -to answer. There were many questions about himself which he usually -answered by telling himself that it was his fate to walk over -volcanoes. "Of course, I shall be blown into atoms some fine day," he -would say; "but after all, that is better than being slowly boiled -down into pulp." - -The House had met on a Friday, again on the Saturday morning, and -the debate on the Address had been adjourned till the Monday. On -the Sunday, Phineas determined that he would see Lady Laura. She -professed to be always at home on Sunday, and from three to four in -the afternoon her drawing-room would probably be half full of people. -There would, at any rate, be comers and goers, who would prevent -anything like real conversation between himself and her. But for a -few minutes before that he might probably find her alone, and he was -most anxious to see whether her reception of him, as a member of -Parliament, would be in any degree warmer than that of his other -friends. Hitherto he had found no such warmth since he came to -London, excepting that which had glowed in the bosom of Mrs. Bunce. - -Lady Laura Standish was the daughter of the Earl of Brentford, and -was the only remaining lady of the Earl's family. The Countess had -been long dead; and Lady Emily, the younger daughter, who had been -the great beauty of her day, was now the wife of a Russian nobleman -whom she had persisted in preferring to any of her English suitors, -and lived at St. Petersburg. There was an aunt, old Lady Laura, who -came up to town about the middle of May; but she was always in the -country except for some six weeks in the season. There was a certain -Lord Chiltern, the Earl's son and heir, who did indeed live at the -family town house in Portman Square; but Lord Chiltern was a man of -whom Lady Laura's set did not often speak, and Phineas, frequently -as he had been at the house, had never seen Lord Chiltern there. He -was a young nobleman of whom various accounts were given by various -people; but I fear that the account most readily accepted in London -attributed to him a great intimacy with the affairs at Newmarket, -and a partiality for convivial pleasures. Respecting Lord Chiltern -Phineas had never as yet exchanged a word with Lady Laura. With her -father he was acquainted, as he had dined perhaps half a dozen times -at the house. The point in Lord Brentford's character which had more -than any other struck our hero, was the unlimited confidence which he -seemed to place in his daughter. Lady Laura seemed to have perfect -power of doing what she pleased. She was much more mistress of -herself than if she had been the wife instead of the daughter of the -Earl of Brentford,--and she seemed to be quite as much mistress of -the house. - -Phineas had declared at Killaloe that Lady Laura was six feet high, -that she had red hair, that her figure was straggling, and that her -hands and feet were large. She was in fact about five feet seven -in height, and she carried her height well. There was something of -nobility in her gait, and she seemed thus to be taller than her -inches. Her hair was in truth red,--of a deep thorough redness. Her -brother's hair was the same; and so had been that of her father, -before it had become sandy with age. Her sister's had been of a soft -auburn hue, and hers had been said to be the prettiest head of hair -in Europe at the time of her marriage. But in these days we have got -to like red hair, and Lady Laura's was not supposed to stand in the -way of her being considered a beauty. Her face was very fair, though -it lacked that softness which we all love in women. Her eyes, which -were large and bright, and very clear, never seemed to quail, never -rose and sunk or showed themselves to be afraid of their own power. -Indeed, Lady Laura Standish had nothing of fear about her. Her -nose was perfectly cut, but was rather large, having the slightest -possible tendency to be aquiline. Her mouth also was large, but was -full of expression, and her teeth were perfect. Her complexion was -very bright, but in spite of its brightness she never blushed. The -shades of her complexion were set and steady. Those who knew her said -that her heart was so fully under command that nothing could stir her -blood to any sudden motion. As to that accusation of straggling which -had been made against her, it had sprung from ill-natured observation -of her modes of sitting. She never straggled when she stood or -walked; but she would lean forward when sitting, as a man does, and -would use her arms in talking, and would put her hand over her face, -and pass her fingers through her hair,--after the fashion of men -rather than of women;--and she seemed to despise that soft quiescence -of her sex in which are generally found so many charms. Her hands -and feet were large,--as was her whole frame. Such was Lady Laura -Standish; and Phineas Finn had been untrue to himself and to his own -appreciation of the lady when he had described her in disparaging -terms to Mary Flood Jones. But, though he had spoken of Lady Laura -in disparaging terms, he had so spoken of her as to make Miss Flood -Jones quite understand that he thought a great deal about Lady Laura. - -And now, early on the Sunday, he made his way to Portman Square in -order that he might learn whether there might be any sympathy for him -there. Hitherto he had found none. Everything had been terribly dry -and hard, and he had gathered as yet none of the fruit which he had -expected that his good fortune would bear for him. It is true that he -had not as yet gone among any friends, except those of his club, and -men who were in the House along with him;--and at the club it might -be that there were some who envied him his good fortune, and others -who thought nothing of it because it had been theirs for years. Now -he would try a friend who, he hoped, could sympathise; and therefore -he called in Portman Square at about half-past two on the Sunday -morning. Yes,--Lady Laura was in the drawing-room. The hall-porter -admitted as much, but evidently seemed to think that he had been -disturbed from his dinner before his time. Phineas did not care a -straw for the hall-porter. If Lady Laura were not kind to him, he -would never trouble that hall-porter again. He was especially sore at -this moment because a valued friend, the barrister with whom he had -been reading for the last three years, had spent the best part of -an hour that Sunday morning in proving to him that he had as good -as ruined himself. "When I first heard it, of course I thought you -had inherited a fortune," said Mr. Low. "I have inherited nothing," -Phineas replied;--"not a penny; and I never shall." Then Mr. Low had -opened his eyes very wide, and shaken his head very sadly, and had -whistled. - -"I am so glad you have come, Mr. Finn," said Lady Laura, meeting -Phineas half-way across the large room. - -"Thanks," said he, as he took her hand. - -"I thought that perhaps you would manage to see me before any one -else was here." - -"Well;--to tell the truth, I have wished it; though I can hardly tell -why." - -"I can tell you why, Mr. Finn. But never mind;--come and sit down. -I am so very glad that you have been successful;--so very glad. You -know I told you that I should never think much of you if you did not -at least try it." - -"And therefore I did try." - -"And have succeeded. Faint heart, you know, never did any good. I -think it is a man's duty to make his way into the House;--that is, if -he ever means to be anybody. Of course it is not every man who can -get there by the time that he is five-and-twenty." - -"Every friend that I have in the world says that I have ruined -myself." - -"No;--I don't say so," said Lady Laura. - -"And you are worth all the others put together. It is such a comfort -to have some one to say a cheery word to one." - -"You shall hear nothing but cheery words here. Papa shall say cheery -words to you that shall be better than mine, because they shall be -weighted with the wisdom of age. I have heard him say twenty times -that the earlier a man goes into the House the better. There is much -to learn." - -"But your father was thinking of men of fortune." - -"Not at all;--of younger brothers, and barristers, and of men who -have their way to make, as you have. Let me see,--can you dine here -on Wednesday? There will be no party, of course, but papa will want -to shake hands with you; and you legislators of the Lower House are -more easily reached on Wednesdays than on any other day." - -"I shall be delighted," said Phineas, feeling, however, that he did -not expect much sympathy from Lord Brentford. - -"Mr. Kennedy dines here;--you know Mr. Kennedy, of Loughlinter; and -we will ask your friend Mr. Fitzgibbon. There will be nobody else. As -for catching Barrington Erle, that is out of the question at such a -time as this." - -"But going back to my being ruined--" said Phineas, after a pause. - -"Don't think of anything so disagreeable." - -"You must not suppose that I am afraid of it. I was going to say that -there are worse things than ruin,--or, at any rate, than the chance -of ruin. Supposing that I have to emigrate and skin sheep, what -does it matter? I myself, being unencumbered, have myself as my own -property to do what I like with. With Nelson it was Westminster Abbey -or a peerage. With me it is parliamentary success or sheep-skinning." - -"There shall be no sheep-skinning, Mr. Finn. I will guarantee you." - -"Then I shall be safe." - -At that moment the door of the room was opened, and a man entered -with quick steps, came a few yards in, and then retreated, slamming -the door after him. He was a man with thick short red hair, and an -abundance of very red beard. And his face was red,--and, as it seemed -to Phineas, his very eyes. There was something in the countenance of -the man which struck him almost with dread,--something approaching to -ferocity. - -There was a pause a moment after the door was closed, and then Lady -Laura spoke. "It was my brother Chiltern. I do not think that you -have ever met him." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -Mr. and Mrs. Low - - -That terrible apparition of the red Lord Chiltern had disturbed -Phineas in the moment of his happiness as he sat listening to the -kind flatteries of Lady Laura; and though Lord Chiltern had vanished -as quickly as he had appeared, there had come no return of his joy. -Lady Laura had said some word about her brother, and Phineas had -replied that he had never chanced to see Lord Chiltern. Then there -had been an awkward silence, and almost immediately other persons had -come in. After greeting one or two old acquaintances, among whom an -elder sister of Laurence Fitzgibbon was one, he took his leave and -escaped out into the square. "Miss Fitzgibbon is going to dine with -us on Wednesday," said Lady Laura. "She says she won't answer for her -brother, but she will bring him if she can." - -"And you're a member of Parliament now too, they tell me," said Miss -Fitzgibbon, holding up her hands. "I think everybody will be in -Parliament before long. I wish I knew some man who wasn't, that I -might think of changing my condition." - -But Phineas cared very little what Miss Fitzgibbon said to him. -Everybody knew Aspasia Fitzgibbon, and all who knew her were -accustomed to put up with the violence of her jokes and the -bitterness of her remarks. She was an old maid, over forty, very -plain, who, having reconciled herself to the fact that she was an old -maid, chose to take advantage of such poor privileges as the position -gave her. Within the last few years a considerable fortune had fallen -into her hands, some twenty-five thousand pounds, which had come to -her unexpectedly,--a wonderful windfall. And now she was the only one -of her family who had money at command. She lived in a small house by -herself, in one of the smallest streets of May Fair, and walked about -sturdily by herself, and spoke her mind about everything. She was -greatly devoted to her brother Laurence,--so devoted that there was -nothing she would not do for him, short of lending him money. - -But Phineas when he found himself out in the square thought nothing -of Aspasia Fitzgibbon. He had gone to Lady Laura Standish for -sympathy, and she had given it to him in full measure. She understood -him and his aspirations if no one else did so on the face of the -earth. She rejoiced in his triumph, and was not too hard to tell him -that she looked forward to his success. And in what delightful -language she had done so! "Faint heart never won fair lady." It was -thus, or almost thus, that she had encouraged him. He knew well that -she had in truth meant nothing more than her words had seemed to -signify. He did not for a moment attribute to her aught else. But -might not he get another lesson from them? He had often told himself -that he was not in love with Laura Standish;--but why should he not -how tell himself that he was in love with her? Of course there would -be difficulty. But was it not the business of his life to overcome -difficulties? Had he not already overcome one difficulty almost as -great; and why should he be afraid of this other? Faint heart never -won fair lady! And this fair lady,--for at this moment he was ready -to swear that she was very fair,--was already half won. She could not -have taken him by the hand so warmly, and looked into his face so -keenly, had she not felt for him something stronger than common -friendship. - -He had turned down Baker Street from the square, and was now walking -towards the Regent's Park. He would go and see the beasts in the -Zoological Gardens, and make up his mind as to his future mode of -life in that delightful Sunday solitude. There was very much as to -which it was necessary that he should make up his mind. If he -resolved that he would ask Lady Laura Standish to be his wife, when -should he ask her, and in what manner might he propose to her that -they should live? It would hardly suit him to postpone his courtship -indefinitely, knowing, as he did know, that he would be one among -many suitors. He could not expect her to wait for him if he did not -declare himself. And yet he could hardly ask her to come and share -with him the allowance made to him by his father! Whether she had -much fortune of her own, or little, or none at all, he did not in the -least know. He did know that the Earl had been distressed by his -son's extravagance, and that there had been some money difficulties -arising from this source. - -But his great desire would be to support his own wife by his own -labour. At present he was hardly in a fair way to do that, unless he -could get paid for his parliamentary work. Those fortunate gentlemen -who form "The Government" are so paid. Yes;--there was the Treasury -Bench open to him, and he must resolve that he would seat himself -there. He would make Lady Laura understand this, and then he would -ask his question. It was true that at present his political opponents -had possession of the Treasury Bench;--but all governments are -mortal, and Conservative governments in this country are especially -prone to die. It was true that he could not hold even a Treasury -lordship with a poor thousand a year for his salary without having to -face the electors of Loughshane again before he entered upon the -enjoyment of his place;--but if he could only do something to give a -grace to his name, to show that he was a rising man, the electors of -Loughshane, who had once been so easy with him, would surely not be -cruel to him when he showed himself a second time among them. Lord -Tulla was his friend, and he had those points of law in his favour -which possession bestows. And then he remembered that Lady Laura was -related to almost everybody who was anybody among the high Whigs. She -was, he knew, second cousin to Mr. Mildmay, who for years had been -the leader of the Whigs, and was third cousin to Barrington Erle. The -late President of the Council, the Duke of St. Bungay, and Lord -Brentford had married sisters, and the St. Bungay people, and the -Mildmay people, and the Brentford people had all some sort of -connection with the Palliser people, of whom the heir and coming -chief, Plantagenet Palliser, would certainly be Chancellor of the -Exchequer in the next Government. Simply as an introduction into -official life nothing could be more conducive to chances of success -than a matrimonial alliance with Lady Laura. Not that he would have -thought of such a thing on that account! No;--he thought of it -because he loved her; honestly because he loved her. He swore to that -half a dozen times, for his own satisfaction. But, loving her as he -did, and resolving that in spite of all difficulties she should -become his wife, there could be no reason why he should not,--on her -account as well as on his own,--take advantage of any circumstances -that there might be in his favour. - -As he wandered among the unsavoury beasts, elbowed on every side by -the Sunday visitors to the garden, he made up his mind that he would -first let Lady Laura understand what were his intentions with regard -to his future career, and then he would ask her to join her lot to -his. At every turn the chances would of course be very much against -him;--ten to one against him, perhaps, on every point; but it was his -lot in life to have to face such odds. Twelve months since it had -been much more than ten to one against his getting into Parliament; -and yet he was there. He expected to be blown into fragments,--to -sheep-skinning in Australia, or packing preserved meats on the plains -of Paraguay; but when the blowing into atoms should come, he was -resolved that courage to bear the ruin should not be wanting. Then he -quoted a line or two of a Latin poet, and felt himself to be -comfortable. - -"So, here you are again, Mr. Finn," said a voice in his ear. - -"Yes, Miss Fitzgibbon; here I am again." - -"I fancied you members of Parliament had something else to do besides -looking at wild beasts. I thought you always spent Sunday in -arranging how you might most effectually badger each other on -Monday." - -"We got through all that early this morning, Miss Fitzgibbon, while -you were saying your prayers." - -"Here is Mr. Kennedy too;--you know him I daresay. He also is a -member; but then he can afford to be idle." But it so happened that -Phineas did not know Mr. Kennedy, and consequently there was some -slight form of introduction. - -"I believe I am to meet you at dinner on Wednesday,"--said -Phineas,--"at Lord Brentford's." - -"And me too," said Miss Fitzgibbon. - -"Which will be the greatest possible addition to our pleasure," said -Phineas. - -Mr. Kennedy, who seemed to be afflicted with some difficulty in -speaking, and whose bow to our hero had hardly done more than produce -the slightest possible motion to the top of his hat, hereupon -muttered something which was taken to mean an assent to the -proposition as to Wednesday's dinner. Then he stood perfectly still, -with his two hands fixed on the top of his umbrella, and gazed at the -great monkeys' cage. But it was clear that he was not looking at any -special monkey, for his eyes never wandered. - -"Did you ever see such a contrast in your life?" said Miss Fitzgibbon -to Phineas,--hardly in a whisper. - -"Between what?" said Phineas. - -"Between Mr. Kennedy and a monkey. The monkey has so much to say for -himself, and is so delightfully wicked! I don't suppose that Mr. -Kennedy ever did anything wrong in his life." - -Mr. Kennedy was a man who had very little temptation to do anything -wrong. He was possessed of over a million and a half of money, which -he was mistaken enough to suppose he had made himself; whereas it may -be doubted whether he had ever earned a penny. His father and his -uncle had created a business in Glasgow, and that business now -belonged to him. But his father and his uncle, who had toiled through -their long lives, had left behind them servants who understood the -work, and the business now went on prospering almost by its own -momentum. The Mr. Kennedy of the present day, the sole owner of the -business, though he did occasionally go to Glasgow, certainly did -nothing towards maintaining it. He had a magnificent place in -Perthshire, called Loughlinter, and he sat for a Scotch group of -boroughs, and he had a house in London, and a stud of horses in -Leicestershire, which he rarely visited, and was unmarried. He never -spoke much to any one, although he was constantly in society. He -rarely did anything, although he had the means of doing everything. -He had very seldom been on his legs in the House of Commons, though -he had sat there for ten years. He was seen about everywhere, -sometimes with one acquaintance and sometimes with another;--but it -may be doubted whether he had any friend. It may be doubted whether -he had ever talked enough to any man to make that man his friend. -Laurence Fitzgibbon tried him for one season, and after a month or -two asked for a loan of a few hundred pounds. "I never lend money to -any one under any circumstances," said Mr. Kennedy, and it was the -longest speech which had ever fallen from his mouth in the hearing of -Laurence Fitzgibbon. But though he would not lend money, he gave a -great deal,--and he would give it for almost every object. "Mr. -Robert Kennedy, M.P., Loughlinter, L105," appeared on almost every -charitable list that was advertised. No one ever spoke to him as to -this expenditure, nor did he ever speak to any one. Circulars came to -him and the cheques were returned. The duty was a very easy one to -him, and he performed it willingly. Had any amount of inquiry been -necessary, it is possible that the labour would have been too much -for him. Such was Mr. Robert Kennedy, as to whom Phineas had heard -that he had during the last winter entertained Lord Brentford and -Lady Laura, with very many other people of note, at his place in -Perthshire. - -"I very much prefer the monkey," said Phineas to Miss Fitzgibbon. - -"I thought you would," said she. "Like to like, you know. You have -both of you the same aptitude for climbing. But the monkeys never -fall, they tell me." - -Phineas, knowing that he could gain nothing by sparring with Miss -Fitzgibbon, raised his hat and took his leave. Going out of a narrow -gate he found himself again brought into contact with Mr. Kennedy. -"What a crowd there is here," he said, finding himself bound to say -something. Mr. Kennedy, who was behind him, answered him not a word. -Then Phineas made up his mind that Mr. Kennedy was insolent with the -insolence of riches, and that he would hate Mr. Kennedy. - -He was engaged to dine on this Sunday with Mr. Low, the barrister, -with whom he had been reading for the last three years. Mr. Low had -taken a strong liking to Phineas, as had also Mrs. Low, and the tutor -had more than once told his pupil that success in his profession was -certainly open to him if he would only stick to his work. Mr. Low was -himself an ambitious man, looking forward to entering Parliament at -some future time, when the exigencies of his life of labour might -enable him to do so; but he was prudent, given to close calculation, -and resolved to make the ground sure beneath his feet in every step -that he took forward. When he first heard that Finn intended to stand -for Loughshane he was stricken with dismay, and strongly dissuaded -him. "The electors may probably reject him. That's his only chance -now," Mr. Low had said to his wife, when he found that Phineas was, -as he thought, foolhardy. But the electors of Loughshane had not -rejected Mr. Low's pupil, and Mr. Low was now called upon to advise -what Phineas should do in his present circumstances. There is nothing -to prevent the work of a Chancery barrister being done by a member of -Parliament. Indeed, the most successful barristers are members of -Parliament. But Phineas Finn was beginning at the wrong end, and Mr. -Low knew that no good would come of it. - -"Only think of your being in Parliament, Mr. Finn," said Mrs. Low. - -"It is wonderful, isn't it?" said Phineas. - -"It took us so much by surprise!" said Mrs. Low. "As a rule one never -hears of a barrister going into Parliament till after he's forty." - -"And I'm only twenty-five. I do feel that I've disgraced myself. I -do, indeed, Mrs. Low." - -"No;--you've not disgraced yourself, Mr. Finn. The only question is, -whether it's prudent. I hope it will all turn out for the best, most -heartily." Mrs. Low was a very matter-of-fact lady, four or five -years older than her husband, who had had a little money of her own, -and was possessed of every virtue under the sun. Nevertheless she did -not quite like the idea of her husband's pupil having got into -Parliament. If her husband and Phineas Finn were dining anywhere -together, Phineas, who had come to them quite a boy, would walk out -of the room before her husband. This could hardly be right! -Nevertheless she helped Phineas to the nicest bit of fish she could -find, and had he been ill, would have nursed him with the greatest -care. - -After dinner, when Mrs. Low had gone up-stairs, there came the great -discussion between the tutor and the pupil, for the sake of which -this little dinner had been given. When Phineas had last been with -Mr. Low,--on the occasion of his showing himself at his tutor's -chambers after his return from Ireland,--he had not made up his mind -so thoroughly on certain points as he had done since he had seen Lady -Laura. The discussion could hardly be of any avail now,--but it could -not be avoided. - -"Well, Phineas, and what do you mean to do?" said Mr. Low. Everybody -who knew our hero, or nearly everybody, called him by his Christian -name. There are men who seem to be so treated by general consent in -all societies. Even Mrs. Low, who was very prosaic, and unlikely to -be familiar in her mode of address, had fallen into the way of doing -it before the election. But she had dropped it, when the Phineas whom -she used to know became a member of Parliament. - -"That's the question;--isn't it?" said Phineas. - -"Of course you'll stick to your work?" - -"What;--to the Bar?" - -"Yes;--to the Bar." - -"I am not thinking of giving it up permanently." - -"Giving it up," said Mr. Low, raising his hands in surprise. "If you -give it up, how do you intend to live? Men are not paid for being -members of Parliament." - -"Not exactly. But, as I said before, I am not thinking of giving it -up,--permanently." - -"You mustn't give it up at all,--not for a day; that is, if you ever -mean to do any good." - -"There I think that perhaps you may be wrong, Low!" - -"How can I be wrong? Did a period of idleness ever help a man in any -profession? And is it not acknowledged by all who know anything about -it, that continuous labour is more necessary in our profession than -in any other?" - -"I do not mean to be idle." - -"What is it you do mean, Phineas?" - -"Why simply this. Here I am in Parliament. We must take that as a -fact." - -"I don't doubt the fact." - -"And if it be a misfortune, we must make the best of it. Even you -wouldn't advise me to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds at once." - -"I would;--to-morrow. My dear fellow, though I do not like to give -you pain, if you come to me I can only tell you what I think. My -advice to you is to give it up to-morrow. Men would laugh at you for -a few weeks, but that is better than being ruined for life." - -"I can't do that," said Phineas, sadly. - -"Very well;--then let us go on," said Mr. Low. "If you won't give up -your seat, the next best thing will be to take care that it shall -interfere as little as possible with your work. I suppose you must -sit upon some Committees." - -"My idea is this,--that I will give up one year to learning the -practices of the House." - -"And do nothing?" - -"Nothing but that. Why, the thing is a study in itself. As for -learning it in a year, that is out of the question. But I am -convinced that if a man intends to be a useful member of Parliament, -he should make a study of it." - -"And how do you mean to live in the meantime?" Mr. Low, who was an -energetic man, had assumed almost an angry tone of voice. Phineas for -awhile sat silent;--not that he felt himself to be without words for -a reply, but that he was thinking in what fewest words he might best -convey his ideas. "You have a very modest allowance from your father, -on which you have never been able to keep yourself free from debt," -continued Mr. Low. - -"He has increased it." - -"And will it satisfy you to live here, in what will turn out to be -parliamentary club idleness, on the savings of his industrious life? -I think you will find yourself unhappy if you do that. Phineas, my -dear fellow, as far as I have as yet been able to see the world, men -don't begin either very good or very bad. They have generally good -aspirations with infirm purposes;--or, as we may say, strong bodies -with weak legs to carry them. Then, because their legs are weak, they -drift into idleness and ruin. During all this drifting they are -wretched, and when they have thoroughly drifted they are still -wretched. The agony of their old disappointment still clings to them. -In nine cases out of ten it is some one small unfortunate event that -puts a man astray at first. He sees some woman and loses himself with -her;--or he is taken to a racecourse and unluckily wins money;--or -some devil in the shape of a friend lures him to tobacco and brandy. -Your temptation has come in the shape of this accursed seat in -Parliament." Mr. Low had never said a soft word in his life to any -woman but the wife of his bosom, had never seen a racehorse, always -confined himself to two glasses of port after dinner, and looked upon -smoking as the darkest of all the vices. - -"You have made up your mind, then, that I mean to be idle?" - -"I have made up my mind that your time will be wholly -unprofitable,--if you do as you say you intend to do." - -"But you do not know my plan;--just listen to me." Then Mr. Low did -listen, and Phineas explained his plan,--saying, of course, nothing -of his love for Lady Laura, but giving Mr. Low to understand that he -intended to assist in turning out the existing Government and to -mount up to some seat,--a humble seat at first,--on the Treasury -bench, by the help of his exalted friends and by the use of his own -gifts of eloquence. Mr. Low heard him without a word. "Of course," -said Phineas, "after the first year my time will not be fully -employed, unless I succeed. And if I fail totally,--for, of course, I -may fail altogether--" - -"It is possible," said Mr. Low. - -"If you are resolved to turn yourself against me, I must not say -another word," said Phineas, with anger. - -"Turn myself against you! I would turn myself any way so that I might -save you from the sort of life which you are preparing for yourself. -I see nothing in it that can satisfy any manly heart. Even if you are -successful, what are you to become? You will be the creature of some -minister, not his colleague. You are to make your way up the ladder -by pretending to agree whenever agreement is demanded from you, and -by voting whether you agree or do not. And what is to be your reward? -Some few precarious hundreds a year, lasting just so long as a party -may remain in power and you can retain a seat in Parliament! It is at -the best slavery and degradation,--even if you are lucky enough to -achieve the slavery." - -"You yourself hope to go into Parliament and join a ministry some -day," said Phineas. - -Mr. Low was not quick to answer, but he did answer at last. "That is -true, though I have never told you so. Indeed, it is hardly true to -say that I hope it. I have my dreams, and sometimes dare to tell -myself that they may possibly become waking facts. But if ever I sit -on a Treasury bench I shall sit there by special invitation, having -been summoned to take a high place because of my professional -success. It is but a dream after all, and I would not have you repeat -what I have said to any one. I had no intention to talk about -myself." - -"I am sure that you will succeed," said Phineas. - -"Yes;--I shall succeed. I am succeeding. I live upon what I earn, -like a gentleman, and can already afford to be indifferent to work -that I dislike. After all, the other part of it,--that of which I -dream,--is but an unnecessary adjunct; the gilding on the -gingerbread. I am inclined to think that the cake is more wholesome -without it." - -Phineas did not go up-stairs into Mrs. Low's drawing-room on that -evening, nor did he stay very late with Mr. Low. He had heard enough -of counsel to make him very unhappy,--to shake from him much of the -audacity which he had acquired for himself during his morning's -walk,--and to make him almost doubt whether, after all, the -Chiltern Hundreds would not be for him the safest escape from his -difficulties. But in that case he must never venture to see Lady -Laura Standish again. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -Lord Brentford's Dinner - - -No;--in such case as that,--should he resolve upon taking the advice -of his old friend Mr. Low, Phineas Finn must make up his mind never -to see Lady Laura Standish again! And he was in love with Lady Laura -Standish;--and, for aught he knew, Lady Laura Standish might be in -love with him. As he walked home from Mr. Low's house in Bedford -Square, he was by no means a triumphant man. There had been much more -said between him and Mr. Low than could be laid before the reader -in the last chapter. Mr. Low had urged him again and again, and had -prevailed so far that Phineas, before he left the house, had promised -to consider that suicidal expedient of the Chiltern Hundreds. What a -by-word he would become if he were to give up Parliament, having sat -there for about a week! But such immediate giving up was one of the -necessities of Mr. Low's programme. According to Mr. Low's teaching, -a single year passed amidst the miasma of the House of Commons would -be altogether fatal to any chance of professional success. And Mr. -Low had at any rate succeeded in making Phineas believe that he -was right in this lesson. There was his profession, as to which Mr. -Low assured him that success was within his reach; and there was -Parliament on the other side, as to which he knew that the chances -were all against him, in spite of his advantage of a seat. That he -could not combine the two, beginning with Parliament, he did believe. -Which should it be? That was the question which he tried to decide -as he walked home from Bedford Square to Great Marlborough Street. -He could not answer the question satisfactorily, and went to bed an -unhappy man. - -He must at any rate go to Lord Brentford's dinner on Wednesday, and, -to enable him to join in the conversation there, must attend the -debates on Monday and Tuesday. The reader may perhaps be best made to -understand how terrible was our hero's state of doubt by being told -that for awhile he thought of absenting himself from these debates, -as being likely to weaken his purpose of withdrawing altogether from -the House. It is not very often that so strong a fury rages between -party and party at the commencement of the session that a division -is taken upon the Address. It is customary for the leader of the -opposition on such occasions to express his opinion in the most -courteous language, that his right honourable friend, sitting -opposite to him on the Treasury bench, has been, is, and will be -wrong in everything that he thinks, says, or does in public life; but -that, as anything like factious opposition is never adopted on that -side of the House, the Address to the Queen, in answer to that most -fatuous speech which has been put into her Majesty's gracious mouth, -shall be allowed to pass unquestioned. Then the leader of the House -thanks his adversary for his consideration, explains to all men how -happy the country ought to be that the Government has not fallen into -the disgracefully incapable hands of his right honourable friend -opposite; and after that the Address is carried amidst universal -serenity. But such was not the order of the day on the present -occasion. Mr. Mildmay, the veteran leader of the liberal side of the -House, had moved an amendment to the Address, and had urged upon the -House, in very strong language, the expediency of showing, at the -very commencement of the session, that the country had returned -to Parliament a strong majority determined not to put up with -Conservative inactivity. "I conceive it to be my duty," Mr. Mildmay -had said, "at once to assume that the country is unwilling that the -right honourable gentlemen opposite should keep their seats on the -bench upon which they sit, and in the performance of that duty I am -called upon to divide the House upon the Address to her Majesty." And -if Mr. Mildmay used strong language, the reader may be sure that Mr. -Mildmay's followers used language much stronger. And Mr. Daubeny, who -was the present leader of the House, and representative there of the -Ministry,--Lord de Terrier, the Premier, sitting in the House of -Lords,--was not the man to allow these amenities to pass by without -adequate replies. He and his friends were very strong in sarcasm, -if they failed in argument, and lacked nothing for words, though -it might perhaps be proved that they were short in numbers. It was -considered that the speech in which Mr. Daubeny reviewed the long -political life of Mr. Mildmay, and showed that Mr. Mildmay had been -at one time a bugbear, and then a nightmare, and latterly simply a -fungus, was one of the severest attacks, if not the most severe, that -had been heard in that House since the Reform Bill. Mr. Mildmay, the -while, was sitting with his hat low down over his eyes, and many men -said that he did not like it. But this speech was not made till after -that dinner at Lord Brentford's, of which a short account must be -given. - -Had it not been for the overwhelming interest of the doings in -Parliament at the commencement of the session, Phineas might have -perhaps abstained from attending, in spite of the charm of novelty. -For, in truth, Mr. Low's words had moved him much. But if it was to -be his fate to be a member of Parliament only for ten days, surely it -would be well that he should take advantage of the time to hear such -a debate as this. It would be a thing to talk of to his children in -twenty years' time, or to his grandchildren in fifty;--and it would -be essentially necessary that he should be able to talk of it to Lady -Laura Standish. He did, therefore, sit in the House till one on the -Monday night, and till two on the Tuesday night, and heard the debate -adjourned till the Thursday. On the Thursday Mr. Daubeny was to make -his great speech, and then the division would come. - -When Phineas entered Lady Laura's drawing-room on the Wednesday -before dinner, he found the other guests all assembled. Why men -should have been earlier in keeping their dinner engagements on that -day than on any other he did not understand; but it was the fact, -probably, that the great anxiety of the time made those who were at -all concerned in the matter very keen to hear and to be heard. During -these days everybody was in a hurry,--everybody was eager; and there -was a common feeling that not a minute was to be lost. There were -three ladies in the room,--Lady Laura, Miss Fitzgibbon, and Mrs. -Bonteen. The latter was the wife of a gentleman who had been a junior -Lord of the Admiralty in the late Government, and who lived in the -expectation of filling, perhaps, some higher office in the Government -which, as he hoped, was soon to be called into existence. There -were five gentlemen besides Phineas Finn himself,--Mr. Bonteen, Mr. -Kennedy, Mr. Fitzgibbon, Barrington Erle, who had been caught in -spite of all that Lady Laura had said as to the difficulty of such -an operation, and Lord Brentford. Phineas was quick to observe that -every male guest was in Parliament, and to tell himself that he would -not have been there unless he also had had a seat. - -"We are all here now," said the Earl, ringing the bell. - -"I hope I've not kept you waiting," said Phineas. - -"Not at all," said Lady Laura. "I do not know why we are in such a -hurry. And how many do you say it will be, Mr. Finn?" - -"Seventeen, I suppose," said Phineas. - -"More likely twenty-two," said Mr. Bonteen. "There is Colcleugh so -ill they can't possibly bring him up, and young Rochester is at -Vienna, and Gunning is sulking about something, and Moody has lost -his eldest son. By George! they pressed him to come up, although -Frank Moody won't be buried till Friday." - -"I don't believe it," said Lord Brentford. - -"You ask some of the Carlton fellows, and they'll own it." - -"If I'd lost every relation I had in the world," said Fitzgibbon, -"I'd vote on such a question as this. Staying away won't bring poor -Frank Moody back to life." - -"But there's a decency in these matters, is there not, Mr. -Fitzgibbon?" said Lady Laura. - -"I thought they had thrown all that kind of thing overboard long -ago," said Miss Fitzgibbon. "It would be better that they should have -no veil, than squabble about the thickness of it." - -Then dinner was announced. The Earl walked off with Miss Fitzgibbon, -Barrington Erle took Mrs. Bonteen, and Mr. Fitzgibbon took Lady -Laura. - -"I'll bet four pounds to two it's over nineteen," said Mr. Bonteen, -as he passed through the drawing-room door. The remark seemed to have -been addressed to Mr. Kennedy, and Phineas therefore made no reply. - -"I daresay it will," said Kennedy, "but I never bet." - -"But you vote--sometimes, I hope," said Bonteen. - -"Sometimes," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"I think he is the most odious man that ever I set my eyes on," said -Phineas to himself as he followed Mr. Kennedy into the dining-room. -He had observed that Mr. Kennedy had been standing very near to Lady -Laura in the drawing-room, and that Lady Laura had said a few words -to him. He was more determined than ever that he would hate Mr. -Kennedy, and would probably have been moody and unhappy throughout -the whole dinner had not Lady Laura called him to a chair at her left -hand. It was very generous of her; and the more so, as Mr. Kennedy -had, in a half-hesitating manner, prepared to seat himself in that -very place. As it was, Phineas and Mr. Kennedy were neighbours, but -Phineas had the place of honour. - -"I suppose you will not speak during the debate?" said Lady Laura. - -"Who? I? Certainly not. In the first place, I could not get a -hearing, and, in the next place, I should not think of commencing on -such an occasion. I do not know that I shall ever speak at all." - -"Indeed you will. You are just the sort of man who will succeed with -the House. What I doubt is, whether you will do as well in office." - -"I wish I might have the chance." - -"Of course you can have the chance if you try for it. Beginning so -early, and being on the right side,--and, if you will allow me to say -so, among the right set,--there can be no doubt that you may take -office if you will. But I am not sure that you will be tractable. You -cannot begin, you know, by being Prime Minister." - -"I have seen enough to realise that already," said Phineas. - -"If you will only keep that little fact steadily before your eyes, -there is nothing you may not reach in official life. But Pitt was -Prime Minister at four-and-twenty, and that precedent has ruined half -our young politicians." - -"It has not affected me, Lady Laura." - -"As far as I can see, there is no great difficulty in government. A -man must learn to have words at command when he is on his legs in -the House of Commons, in the same way as he would if he were talking -to his own servants. He must keep his temper; and he must be very -patient. As far as I have seen Cabinet Ministers, they are not more -clever than other people." - -"I think there are generally one or two men of ability in the -Cabinet." - -"Yes, of fair ability. Mr. Mildmay is a good specimen. There is not, -and never was, anything brilliant in him. He is not eloquent, nor, -as far as I am aware, did he ever create anything. But he has always -been a steady, honest, persevering man, and circumstances have made -politics come easy to him." - -"Think of the momentous questions which he has been called upon to -decide," said Phineas. - -"Every question so handled by him has been decided rightly according -to his own party, and wrongly according to the party opposite. A -political leader is so sure of support and so sure of attack, that -it is hardly necessary for him to be even anxious to be right. For -the country's sake, he should have officials under him who know the -routine of business." - -"You think very badly then of politics as a profession." - -"No; I think of them very highly. It must be better to deal with -the repeal of laws than the defending of criminals. But all this is -papa's wisdom, not mine. Papa has never been in the Cabinet yet, and -therefore of course he is a little caustic." - -"I think he was quite right," said Barrington Erle stoutly. He spoke -so stoutly that everybody at the table listened to him. - -"I don't exactly see the necessity for such internecine war just at -present," said Lord Brentford. - -"I must say I do," said the other. "Lord de Terrier took office -knowing that he was in a minority. We had a fair majority of nearly -thirty when he came in." - -"Then how very soft you must have been to go out," said Miss -Fitzgibbon. - -"Not in the least soft," continued Barrington Erle. "We could not -command our men, and were bound to go out. For aught we knew, some -score of them might have chosen to support Lord de Terrier, and then -we should have owned ourselves beaten for the time." - -"You were beaten,--hollow," said Miss Fitzgibbon. - -"Then why did Lord de Terrier dissolve?" - -"A Prime Minister is quite right to dissolve in such a position," -said Lord Brentford. "He must do so for the Queen's sake. It is his -only chance." - -"Just so. It is, as you say, his only chance, and it is his right. -His very possession of power will give him near a score of votes, and -if he thinks that he has a chance, let him try it. We maintain that -he had no chance, and that he must have known that he had none;--that -if he could not get on with the late House, he certainly could not -get on with a new House. We let him have his own way as far as we -could in February. We had failed last summer, and if he could get -along he was welcome. But he could not get along." - -"I must say I think he was right to dissolve," said Lady Laura. - -"And we are right to force the consequences upon him as quickly as -we can. He practically lost nine seats by his dissolution. Look at -Loughshane." - -"Yes; look at Loughshane," said Miss Fitzgibbon. "The country at any -rate has gained something there." - -"It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good, Mr. Finn," said the -Earl. - -"What on earth is to become of poor George?" said Mr. Fitzgibbon. "I -wonder whether any one knows where he is. George wasn't a bad sort of -fellow." - -"Roby used to think that he was a very bad fellow," said Mr. Bonteen. -"Roby used to swear that it was hopeless trying to catch him." It may -be as well to explain that Mr. Roby was a Conservative gentleman of -great fame who had for years acted as Whip under Mr. Daubeny, and who -now filled the high office of Patronage Secretary to the Treasury. "I -believe in my heart," continued Mr. Bonteen, "that Roby is rejoiced -that poor George Morris should be out in the cold." - -"If seats were halveable, he should share mine, for the sake of auld -lang syne," said Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -"But not to-morrow night," said Barrington Erle; "the division -to-morrow will be a thing not to be joked with. Upon my word I think -they're right about old Moody. All private considerations should give -way. And as for Gunning, I'd have him up or I'd know the reason why." - -"And shall we have no defaulters, Barrington?" asked Lady Laura. - -"I'm not going to boast, but I don't know of one for whom we need -blush. Sir Everard Powell is so bad with gout that he can't even bear -any one to look at him, but Ratler says that he'll bring him up." Mr. -Ratler was in those days the Whip on the liberal side of the House. - -"Unfortunate wretch!" said Miss Fitzgibbon. - -"The worst of it is that he screams in his paroxysms," said Mr. -Bonteen. - -"And you mean to say that you'll take him into the lobby," said Lady -Laura. - -"Undoubtedly," said Barrington Erle. "Why not? He has no business -with a seat if he can't vote. But Sir Everard is a good man, and -he'll be there if laudanum and bath-chair make it possible." - -The same kind of conversation went on during the whole of dinner, and -became, if anything, more animated when the three ladies had left the -room. Mr. Kennedy made but one remark, and then he observed that as -far as he could see a majority of nineteen would be as serviceable -as a majority of twenty. This he said in a very mild voice, and in -a tone that was intended to be expressive of doubt; but in spite of -his humility Barrington Erle flew at him almost savagely,--as though -a liberal member of the House of Commons was disgraced by so mean a -spirit; and Phineas found himself despising the man for his want of -zeal. - -"If we are to beat them, let us beat them well," said Phineas. - -"Let there be no doubt about it," said Barrington Erle. - -"I should like to see every man with a seat polled," said Bonteen. - -"Poor Sir Everard!" said Lord Brentford. "It will kill him, no doubt, -but I suppose the seat is safe." - -"Oh, yes; Llanwrwsth is quite safe," said Barrington, in his -eagerness omitting to catch Lord Brentford's grim joke. - -Phineas went up into the drawing-room for a few minutes after dinner, -and was eagerly desirous of saying a few more words,--he knew not -what words,--to Lady Laura. Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Bonteen had left -the dining-room first, and Phineas again found Mr. Kennedy standing -close to Lady Laura's shoulder. Could it be possible that there was -anything in it? Mr. Kennedy was an unmarried man, with an immense -fortune, a magnificent place, a seat in Parliament, and was not -perhaps above forty years of age. There could be no reason why he -should not ask Lady Laura to be his wife,--except, indeed, that he -did not seem to have sufficient words at command to ask anybody for -anything. But could it be that such a woman as Lady Laura could -accept such a man as Mr. Kennedy because of his wealth, and because -of his fine place,--a man who had not a word to throw to a dog, who -did not seem to be possessed of an idea, who hardly looked like a -gentleman;--so Phineas told himself. But in truth Mr. Kennedy, though -he was a plain, unattractive man, with nothing in his personal -appearance to call for remark, was not unlike a gentleman in his -usual demeanour. Phineas himself, it may be here said, was six feet -high, and very handsome, with bright blue eyes, and brown wavy hair, -and light silken beard. Mrs. Low had told her husband more than once -that he was much too handsome to do any good. Mr. Low, however, had -replied that young Finn had never shown himself to be conscious of -his own personal advantages. "He'll learn it soon enough," said Mrs. -Low. "Some woman will tell him, and then he'll be spoilt." I do not -think that Phineas depended much as yet on his own good looks, but -he felt that Mr. Kennedy ought to be despised by such a one as Lady -Laura Standish, because his looks were not good. And she must despise -him! It could not be that a woman so full of life should be willing -to put up with a man who absolutely seemed to have no life within -him. And yet why was he there, and why was he allowed to hang about -just over her shoulders? Phineas Finn began to feel himself to be an -injured man. - -But Lady Laura had the power of dispelling instantly this sense of -injury. She had done it effectually in the dining-room by calling him -to the seat by her side, to the express exclusion of the millionaire, -and she did it again now by walking away from Mr. Kennedy to the spot -on which Phineas had placed himself somewhat sulkily. - -"Of course you'll be at the club on Friday morning after the -division," she said. - -"No doubt." - -"When you leave it, come and tell me what are your impressions, and -what you think of Mr. Daubeny's speech. There'll be nothing done in -the House before four, and you'll be able to run up to me." - -"Certainly I will." - -"I have asked Mr. Kennedy to come, and Mr. Fitzgibbon. I am so -anxious about it, that I want to hear what different people say. -You know, perhaps, that papa is to be in the Cabinet if there's a -change." - -"Is he indeed?" - -"Oh yes;--and you'll come up?" - -"Of course I will. Do you expect to hear much of an opinion from Mr. -Kennedy?" - -"Yes, I do. You don't quite know Mr. Kennedy yet. And you must -remember that he will say more to me than he will to you. He's -not quick, you know, as you are, and he has no enthusiasm on any -subject;--but he has opinions, and sound opinions too." Phineas -felt that Lady Laura was in a slight degree scolding him for the -disrespectful manner in which he had spoken of Mr. Kennedy; and he -felt also that he had committed himself,--that he had shown himself -to be sore, and that she had seen and understood his soreness. - -"The truth is I do not know him," said he, trying to correct his -blunder. - -"No;--not as yet. But I hope that you may some day, as he is one of -those men who are both useful and estimable." - -"I do not know that I can use him," said Phineas; "but if you wish -it, I will endeavour to esteem him." - -"I wish you to do both;--but that will all come in due time. I think -it probable that in the early autumn there will be a great gathering -of the real Whig Liberals at Loughlinter;--of those, I mean, who have -their heart in it, and are at the same time gentlemen. If it is so, -I should be sorry that you should not be there. You need not mention -it, but Mr. Kennedy has just said a word about it to papa, and a -word from him always means so much! Well;--good-night; and mind you -come up on Friday. You are going to the club, now, of course. I envy -you men your clubs more than I do the House;--though I feel that -a woman's life is only half a life, as she cannot have a seat in -Parliament." - -Then Phineas went away, and walked down to Pall Mall with Laurence -Fitzgibbon. He would have preferred to take his walk alone, but he -could not get rid of his affectionate countryman. He wanted to think -over what had taken place during the evening; and, indeed, he did so -in spite of his friend's conversation. Lady Laura, when she first saw -him after his return to London, had told him how anxious her father -was to congratulate him on his seat, but the Earl had not spoken a -word to him on the subject. The Earl had been courteous, as hosts -customarily are, but had been in no way specially kind to him. And -then Mr. Kennedy! As to going to Loughlinter, he would not do such a -thing,--not though the success of the liberal party were to depend on -it. He declared to himself that there were some things which a man -could not do. But although he was not altogether satisfied with what -had occurred in Portman Square, he felt as he walked down arm-in-arm -with Fitzgibbon that Mr. Low and Mr. Low's counsels must be scattered -to the winds. He had thrown the die in consenting to stand for -Loughshane, and must stand the hazard of the cast. - -"Bedad, Phin, my boy, I don't think you're listening to me at all," -said Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -"I'm listening to every word you say," said Phineas. - -"And if I have to go down to the ould country again this session, -you'll go with me?" - -"If I can I will." - -"That's my boy! And it's I that hope you'll have the chance. What's -the good of turning these fellows out if one isn't to get something -for one's trouble?" - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -Mr. and Mrs. Bunce - - -It was three o'clock on the Thursday night before Mr. Daubeny's -speech was finished. I do not think that there was any truth in the -allegation made at the time, that he continued on his legs an hour -longer than the necessities of his speech required, in order that -five or six very ancient Whigs might be wearied out and shrink to -their beds. Let a Whig have been ever so ancient and ever so weary, -he would not have been allowed to depart from Westminster Hall that -night. Sir Everard Powell was there in his bath-chair at twelve, -with a doctor on one side of him and a friend on the other, in some -purlieu of the House, and did his duty like a fine old Briton as he -was. That speech of Mr. Daubeny's will never be forgotten by any one -who heard it. Its studied bitterness had perhaps never been equalled, -and yet not a word was uttered for the saying of which he could be -accused of going beyond the limits of parliamentary antagonism. It is -true that personalities could not have been closer, that accusations -of political dishonesty and of almost worse than political cowardice -and falsehood could not have been clearer, that no words in the -language could have attributed meaner motives or more unscrupulous -conduct. But, nevertheless, Mr. Daubeny in all that he said was -parliamentary, and showed himself to be a gladiator thoroughly well -trained for the arena in which he had descended to the combat. His -arrows were poisoned, and his lance was barbed, and his shot was -heated red,--because such things are allowed. He did not poison -his enemies' wells or use Greek fire, because those things are not -allowed. He knew exactly the rules of the combat. Mr. Mildmay sat and -heard him without once raising his hat from his brow, or speaking -a word to his neighbour. Men on both sides of the House said that -Mr. Mildmay suffered terribly; but as Mr. Mildmay uttered no word of -complaint to any one, and was quite ready to take Mr. Daubeny by the -hand the next time they met in company, I do not know that any one -was able to form a true idea of Mr. Mildmay's feelings. Mr. Mildmay -was an impassive man who rarely spoke of his own feelings, and no -doubt sat with his hat low down over his eyes in order that no -man might judge of them on that occasion by the impression on his -features. "If he could have left off half an hour earlier it would -have been perfect as an attack," said Barrington Erle in criticising -Mr. Daubeny's speech, "but he allowed himself to sink into -comparative weakness, and the glory of it was over before the -end."--Then came the division. The Liberals had 333 votes to 314 for -the Conservatives, and therefore counted a majority of 19. It was -said that so large a number of members had never before voted at any -division. - -"I own I'm disappointed," said Barrington Erle to Mr. Ratler. - -"I thought there would be twenty," said Mr. Ratler. "I never went -beyond that. I knew they would have old Moody up, but I thought -Gunning would have been too hard for them." - -"They say they've promised them both peerages." - -"Yes;--if they remain in. But they know they're going out." - -"They must go, with such a majority against them," said Barrington -Erle. - -"Of course they must," said Mr. Ratler. "Lord de Terrier wants -nothing better, but it is rather hard upon poor Daubeny. I never saw -such an unfortunate old Tantalus." - -"He gets a good drop of real water now and again, and I don't pity -him in the least. He's clever of course, and has made his own way, -but I've always a feeling that he has no business where he is. -I suppose we shall know all about it at Brooks's by one o'clock -to-morrow." - -Phineas, though it had been past five before he went to bed,--for -there had been much triumphant talking to be done among liberal -members after the division,--was up at his breakfast at Mrs. Bunce's -lodgings by nine. There was a matter which he was called upon to -settle immediately in which Mrs. Bunce herself was much interested, -and respecting which he had promised to give an answer on this very -morning. A set of very dingy chambers up two pairs of stairs at No. -9, Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, to which Mr. Low had recommended him to -transfer himself and all his belongings, were waiting his occupation, -should he resolve upon occupying them. If he intended to commence -operations as a barrister, it would be necessary that he should have -chambers and a clerk; and before he had left Mr. Low's house on -Sunday evening he had almost given that gentleman authority to secure -for him these rooms at No. 9. "Whether you remain in Parliament or -no, you must make a beginning," Mr. Low had said; "and how are you -even to pretend to begin if you don't have chambers?" Mr. Low hoped -that he might be able to wean Phineas away from his Parliament -bauble;--that he might induce the young barrister to give up his -madness, if not this session or the next, at any rate before a third -year had commenced. Mr. Low was a persistent man, liking very much -when he did like, and loving very strongly when he did love. He would -have many a tug for Phineas Finn before he would allow that false -Westminster Satan to carry off the prey as altogether his own. If he -could only get Phineas into the dingy chambers he might do much! - -But Phineas had now become so imbued with the atmosphere of politics, -had been so breathed upon by Lady Laura and Barrington Erle, that -he could no longer endure the thought of any other life than that -of a life spent among the lobbies. A desire to help to beat the -Conservatives had fastened on his very soul, and almost made Mr. Low -odious in his eyes. He was afraid of Mr. Low, and for the nonce would -not go to him any more;--but he must see the porter at Lincoln's Inn, -he must write a line to Mr. Low, and he must tell Mrs. Bunce that for -the present he would still keep on her rooms. His letter to Mr. Low -was as follows:-- - - - Great Marlborough Street, May, 186--. - - MY DEAR LOW, - - I have made up my mind against taking the chambers, and am - now off to the Inn to say that I shall not want them. Of - course, I know what you will think of me, and it is very - grievous to me to have to bear the hard judgment of a man - whose opinion I value so highly; but, in the teeth of your - terribly strong arguments, I think that there is something - to be said on my side of the question. This seat in - Parliament has come in my way by chance, and I think it - would be pusillanimous in me to reject it, feeling, as I - do, that a seat in Parliament confers very great honour. I - am, too, very fond of politics, and regard legislation as - the finest profession going. Had I any one dependent on - me, I probably might not be justified in following the - bent of my inclination. But I am all alone in the world, - and therefore have a right to make the attempt. If, after - a trial of one or two sessions, I should fail in that - which I am attempting, it will not even then be too late - to go back to the better way. I can assure you that at any - rate it is not my intention to be idle. - - I know very well how you will fret and fume over what I - say, and how utterly I shall fail in bringing you round to - my way of thinking; but as I must write to tell you of my - decision, I cannot refrain from defending myself to the - best of my ability. - - Yours always faithfully, - - PHINEAS FINN. - - -Mr. Low received this letter at his chambers, and when he had read -it, he simply pressed his lips closely together, placed the sheet -of paper back in its envelope, and put it into a drawer at his left -hand. Having done this, he went on with what work he had before him, -as though his friend's decision were a matter of no consequence to -him. As far as he was concerned the thing was done, and there should -be an end of it. So he told himself; but nevertheless his mind was -full of it all day; and, though he wrote not a word of answer to -Phineas, he made a reply within his own mind to every one of the -arguments used in the letter. "Great honour! How can there be honour -in what comes, as he says, by chance? He hasn't sense enough to -understand that the honour comes from the mode of winning it, and -from the mode of wearing it; and that the very fact of his being -member for Loughshane at this instant simply proves that Loughshane -should have had no privilege to return a member! No one dependent on -him! Are not his father and his mother and his sisters dependent on -him as long as he must eat their bread till he can earn bread of his -own? He will never earn bread of his own. He will always be eating -bread that others have earned." In this way, before the day was -over, Mr. Low became very angry, and swore to himself that he would -have nothing more to say to Phineas Finn. But yet he found himself -creating plans for encountering and conquering the parliamentary -fiend who was at present so cruelly potent with his pupil. It was not -till the third evening that he told his wife that Finn had made up -his mind not to take chambers. "Then I would have nothing more to say -to him," said Mrs. Low, savagely. "For the present I can have nothing -more to say to him." "But neither now nor ever," said Mrs. Low, with -great emphasis; "he has been false to you." "No," said Mr. Low, who -was a man thoroughly and thoughtfully just at all points; "he has not -been false to me. He has always meant what he has said, when he was -saying it. But he is weak and blind, and flies like a moth to the -candle; one pities the poor moth, and would save him a stump of his -wing if it be possible." - -Phineas, when he had written his letter to Mr. Low, started off for -Lincoln's Inn, making his way through the well-known dreary streets -of Soho, and through St. Giles's, to Long Acre. He knew every corner -well, for he had walked the same road almost daily for the last three -years. He had conceived a liking for the route, which he might easily -have changed without much addition to the distance, by passing -through Oxford Street and Holborn; but there was an air of business -on which he prided himself in going by the most direct passage, and -he declared to himself very often that things dreary and dingy to the -eye might be good in themselves. Lincoln's Inn itself is dingy, and -the Law Courts therein are perhaps the meanest in which Equity ever -disclosed herself. Mr. Low's three rooms in the Old Square, each of -them brown with the binding of law books and with the dust collected -on law papers, and with furniture that had been brown always, and had -become browner with years, were perhaps as unattractive to the eye of -a young pupil as any rooms which were ever entered. And the study of -the Chancery law itself is not an alluring pursuit till the mind has -come to have some insight into the beauty of its ultimate object. -Phineas, during his three years' course of reasoning on these things, -had taught himself to believe that things ugly on the outside might -be very beautiful within; and had therefore come to prefer crossing -Poland Street and Soho Square, and so continuing his travels by the -Seven Dials and Long Acre. His morning walk was of a piece with his -morning studies, and he took pleasure in the gloom of both. But now -the taste of his palate had been already changed by the glare of -the lamps in and about palatial Westminster, and he found that St. -Giles's was disagreeable. The ways about Pall Mall and across the -Park to Parliament Street, or to the Treasury, were much pleasanter, -and the new offices in Downing Street, already half built, absorbed -all that interest which he had hitherto been able to take in -the suggested but uncommenced erection of new Law Courts in the -neighbourhood of Lincoln's Inn. As he made his way to the porter's -lodge under the great gateway of Lincoln's Inn, he told himself that -he was glad that he had escaped, at any rate for a while, from a life -so dull and dreary. If he could only sit in chambers at the Treasury -instead of chambers in that old court, how much pleasanter it would -be! After all, as regarded that question of income, it might well be -that the Treasury chambers should be the more remunerative, and the -more quickly remunerative, of the two. And, as he thought, Lady Laura -might be compatible with the Treasury chambers and Parliament, but -could not possibly be made compatible with Old Square, Lincoln's Inn. - -But nevertheless there came upon him a feeling of sorrow when the -old man at the lodge seemed to be rather glad than otherwise that -he did not want the chambers. "Then Mr. Green can have them," said -the porter; "that'll be good news for Mr. Green. I don't know what -the gen'lemen 'll do for chambers if things goes on as they're -going." Mr. Green was welcome to the chambers as far as Phineas was -concerned; but Phineas felt nevertheless a certain amount of regret -that he should have been compelled to abandon a thing which was -regarded both by the porter and by Mr. Green as being so desirable. -He had however written his letter to Mr. Low, and made his promise to -Barrington Erle, and was bound to Lady Laura Standish; and he walked -out through the old gateway into Chancery Lane, resolving that he -would not even visit Lincoln's Inn again for a year. There were -certain books,--law books,--which he would read at such intervals of -leisure as politics might give him; but within the precincts of the -Inns of Court he would not again put his foot for twelve months, let -learned pundits of the law,--such for instance as Mr. and Mrs. -Low,--say what they might. - -He had told Mrs. Bunce, before he left his home after breakfast, that -he should for the present remain under her roof. She had been much -gratified, not simply because lodgings in Great Marlborough Street -are less readily let than chambers in Lincoln's Inn, but also because -it was a great honour to her to have a member of Parliament in her -house. Members of Parliament are not so common about Oxford Street as -they are in the neighbourhood of Pall Mall and St. James's Square. -But Mr. Bunce, when he came home to his dinner, did not join as -heartily as he should have done in his wife's rejoicing. Mr. Bunce -was in the employment of certain copying law-stationers in Carey -Street, and had a strong belief in the law as a profession;--but he -had none whatever in the House of Commons. "And he's given up going -into chambers?" said Mr. Bunce to his wife. - -"Given it up altogether for the present," said Mrs. Bunce. - -"And he don't mean to have no clerk?" said Mr. Bunce. - -"Not unless it is for his Parliament work." - -"There ain't no clerks wanted for that, and what's worse, there ain't -no fees to pay 'em. I'll tell you what it is, Jane;--if you don't -look sharp there won't be nothing to pay you before long." - -"And he in Parliament, Jacob!" - -"There ain't no salary for being in Parliament. There are scores of -them Parliament gents ain't got so much as'll pay their dinners for -'em. And then if anybody does trust 'em, there's no getting at 'em -to make 'em pay as there is at other folk." - -"I don't know that our Mr. Phineas will ever be like that, Jacob." - -"That's gammon, Jane. That's the way as women gets themselves took in -always. Our Mr. Phineas! Why should our Mr. Phineas be better than -anybody else?" - -"He's always acted handsome, Jacob." - -"There was one time he could not pay his lodgings for wellnigh nine -months, till his governor come down with the money. I don't know -whether that was handsome. It knocked me about terrible, I know." - -"He always meant honest, Jacob." - -"I don't know that I care much for a man's meaning when he runs -short of money. How is he going to see his way, with his seat in -Parliament, and this giving up of his profession? He owes us near a -quarter now." - -"He paid me two months this morning, Jacob; so he don't owe a -farthing." - -"Very well;--so much the better for us. I shall just have a few words -with Mr. Low, and see what he says to it. For myself I don't think -half so much of Parliament folk as some do. They're for promising -everything before they's elected; but not one in twenty of 'em is as -good as his word when he gets there." - -Mr. Bunce was a copying journeyman, who spent ten hours a day in -Carey Street with a pen between his fingers; and after that he would -often spend two or three hours of the night with a pen between his -fingers in Marlborough Street. He was a thoroughly hard-working man, -doing pretty well in the world, for he had a good house over his -head, and always could find raiment and bread for his wife and -eight children; but, nevertheless, he was an unhappy man because he -suffered from political grievances, or, I should more correctly say, -that his grievances were semi-political and semi-social. He had no -vote, not being himself the tenant of the house in Great Marlborough -Street. The tenant was a tailor who occupied the shop, whereas Bunce -occupied the whole of the remainder of the premises. He was a lodger, -and lodgers were not as yet trusted with the franchise. And he had -ideas, which he himself admitted to be very raw, as to the injustice -of the manner in which he was paid for his work. So much a folio, -without reference to the way in which his work was done, without -regard to the success of his work, with no questions asked of -himself, was, as he thought, no proper way of remunerating a man for -his labours. He had long since joined a Trade Union, and for two -years past had paid a subscription of a shilling a week towards its -funds. He longed to be doing some battle against his superiors, and -to be putting himself in opposition to his employers;--not that he -objected personally to Messrs. Foolscap, Margin, and Vellum, who -always made much of him as a useful man;--but because some such -antagonism would be manly, and the fighting of some battle would -be the right thing to do. "If Labour don't mean to go to the wall -himself," Bunce would say to his wife, "Labour must look alive, and -put somebody else there." - -Mrs. Bunce was a comfortable motherly woman, who loved her husband -but hated politics. As he had an aversion to his superiors in the -world because they were superiors, so had she a liking for them for -the same reason. She despised people poorer than herself, and thought -it a fair subject for boasting that her children always had meat for -dinner. If it was ever so small a morsel, she took care that they had -it, in order that the boast might be maintained. The world had once -or twice been almost too much for her,--when, for instance, her -husband had been ill; and again, to tell the truth, for the last -three months of that long period in which Phineas had omitted to pay -his bills; but she had kept a fine brave heart during those troubles, -and could honestly swear that the children always had a bit of -meat, though she herself had been occasionally without it for days -together. At such times she would be more than ordinarily meek to -Mr. Margin, and especially courteous to the old lady who lodged in -her first-floor drawing-room,--for Phineas lived up two pairs of -stairs,--and she would excuse such servility by declaring that there -was no knowing how soon she might want assistance. But her husband, -in such emergencies, would become furious and quarrelsome, and would -declare that Labour was going to the wall, and that something very -strong must be done at once. That shilling which Bunce paid weekly to -the Union she regarded as being absolutely thrown away,--as much so -as though he cast it weekly into the Thames. And she had told him so, -over and over again, making heart-piercing allusions to the eight -children and to the bit of meat. He would always endeavour to explain -to her that there was no other way under the sun for keeping Labour -from being sent to the wall;--but he would do so hopelessly and -altogether ineffectually, and she had come to regard him as a lunatic -to the extent of that one weekly shilling. - -She had a woman's instinctive partiality for comeliness in a man, and -was very fond of Phineas Finn because he was handsome. And now she -was very proud of him because he was a member of Parliament. She -had heard,--from her husband, who had told her the fact with much -disgust,--that the sons of Dukes and Earls go into Parliament, and -she liked to think that the fine young man to whom she talked more -or less every day should sit with the sons of Dukes and Earls. When -Phineas had really brought distress upon her by owing her some thirty -or forty pounds, she could never bring herself to be angry with -him,--because he was handsome and because he dined out with Lords. -And she had triumphed greatly over her husband, who had desired to be -severe upon his aristocratic debtor, when the money had all been paid -in a lump. - -"I don't know that he's any great catch," Bunce had said, when the -prospect of their lodger's departure had been debated between them. - -"Jacob," said his wife, "I don't think you feel it when you've got -people respectable about you." - -"The only respectable man I know," said Jacob, "is the man as earns -his bread; and Mr. Finn, as I take it, is a long way from that yet." - -Phineas returned to his lodgings before he went down to his club, and -again told Mrs. Bunce that he had altogether made up his mind about -the chambers. "If you'll keep me I shall stay here for the first -session I daresay." - -"Of course we shall be only too proud, Mr. Finn; and though it mayn't -perhaps be quite the place for a member of Parliament--" - -"But I think it is quite the place." - -"It's very good of you to say so, Mr. Finn, and we'll do our very -best to make you comfortable. Respectable we are, I may say; and -though Bunce is a bit rough sometimes--" - -"Never to me, Mrs. Bunce." - -"But he is rough,--and silly, too, with his radical nonsense, paying -a shilling a week to a nasty Union just for nothing. Still he means -well, and there ain't a man who works harder for his wife and -children;--that I will say of him. And if he do talk politics--" - -"But I like a man to talk politics, Mrs. Bunce." - -"For a gentleman in Parliament of course it's proper; but I never -could see what good it could do to a law-stationer; and when he talks -of Labour going to the wall, I always ask him whether he didn't get -his wages regular last Saturday. But, Lord love you, Mr. Finn, when a -man as is a journeyman has took up politics and joined a Trade Union, -he ain't no better than a milestone for his wife to take and talk to -him." - -After that Phineas went down to the Reform Club, and made one of -those who were buzzing there in little crowds and uttering their -prophecies as to future events. Lord de Terrier was to go out. That -was certain. Whether Mr. Mildmay was to come in was uncertain. That -he would go to Windsor to-morrow morning was not to be doubted; but -it was thought very probable that he might plead his age, and decline -to undertake the responsibility of forming a Ministry. - -"And what then?" said Phineas to his friend Fitzgibbon. - -"Why, then there will be a choice out of three. There is the Duke, -who is the most incompetent man in England; there is Monk, who is the -most unfit; and there is Gresham, who is the most unpopular. I can't -conceive it possible to find a worse Prime Minister than either of -the three;--but the country affords no other." - -"And which would Mildmay name?" - -"All of them,--one after the other, so as to make the embarrassment -the greater." That was Mr. Fitzgibbon's description of the crisis; -but then it was understood that Mr. Fitzgibbon was given to -romancing. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -The News about Mr. Mildmay and Sir Everard - - -Fitzgibbon and Phineas started together from Pall Mall for Portman -Square,--as both of them had promised to call on Lady Laura,--but -Fitzgibbon turned in at Brooks's as they walked up St. James's -Square, and Phineas went on by himself in a cab. "You should belong -here," said Fitzgibbon as his friend entered the cab, and Phineas -immediately began to feel that he would have done nothing till he -could get into Brooks's. It might be very well to begin by talking -politics at the Reform Club. Such talking had procured for him his -seat at Loughshane. But that was done now, and something more than -talking was wanted for any further progress. Nothing, as he told -himself, of political import was managed at the Reform Club. No -influence from thence was ever brought to bear upon the adjustment of -places under the Government, or upon the arrangement of cabinets. It -might be very well to count votes at the Reform Club; but after the -votes had been counted,--had been counted successfully,--Brooks's was -the place, as Phineas believed, to learn at the earliest moment what -would be the exact result of the success. He must get into Brooks's, -if it might be possible for him. Fitzgibbon was not exactly the man -to propose him. Perhaps the Earl of Brentford would do it. - -Lady Laura was at home, and with her was sitting--Mr. Kennedy. -Phineas had intended to be triumphant as he entered Lady Laura's -room. He was there with the express purpose of triumphing in the -success of their great party, and of singing a pleasant paean in -conjunction with Lady Laura. But his trumpet was put out of tune at -once when he saw Mr. Kennedy. He said hardly a word as he gave his -hand to Lady Laura,--and then afterwards to Mr. Kennedy, who chose -to greet him with this show of cordiality. - -"I hope you are satisfied, Mr. Finn," said Lady Laura, laughing. - -"Oh yes." - -"And is that all? I thought to have found your joy quite -irrepressible." - -"A bottle of soda-water, though it is a very lively thing when -opened, won't maintain its vivacity beyond a certain period, Lady -Laura." - -"And you have had your gas let off already?" - -"Well,--yes; at any rate, the sputtering part of it. Nineteen is very -well, but the question is whether we might not have had twenty-one." - -"Mr. Kennedy has just been saying that not a single available vote -has been missed on our side. He has just come from Brooks's, and that -seems to be what they say there." - -So Mr. Kennedy also was a member of Brooks's! At the Reform Club -there certainly had been an idea that the number might have been -swelled to twenty-one; but then, as Phineas began to understand, -nothing was correctly known at the Reform Club. For an accurate -appreciation of the political balance of the day, you must go to -Brooks's. - -"Mr. Kennedy must of course be right," said Phineas. "I don't -belong to Brooks's myself. But I was only joking, Lady Laura. There -is, I suppose, no doubt that Lord de Terrier is out, and that is -everything." - -"He has probably tendered his resignation," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"That is the same thing," said Phineas, roughly. - -"Not exactly," said Lady Laura. "Should there be any difficulty about -Mr. Mildmay, he might, at the Queen's request, make another attempt." - -"With a majority of nineteen against him!" said Phineas. "Surely Mr. -Mildmay is not the only man in the country. There is the Duke, and -there is Mr. Gresham,--and there is Mr. Monk." Phineas had at his -tongue's end all the lesson that he had been able to learn at the -Reform Club. - -"I should hardly think the Duke would venture," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"Nothing venture, nothing have," said Phineas. "It is all very well -to say that the Duke is incompetent, but I do not know that anything -very wonderful is required in the way of genius. The Duke has held -his own in both Houses successfully, and he is both honest and -popular. I quite agree that a Prime Minister at the present day -should be commonly honest, and more than commonly popular." - -"So you are all for the Duke, are you?" said Lady Laura, again -smiling as she spoke to him. - -"Certainly;--if we are deserted by Mr. Mildmay. Don't you think so?" - -"I don't find it quite so easy to make up my mind as you do. I am -inclined to think that Mr. Mildmay will form a government; and as -long as there is that prospect, I need hardly commit myself to an -opinion as to his probable successor." Then the objectionable Mr. -Kennedy took his leave, and Phineas was left alone with Lady Laura. - -"It is glorious;--is it not?" he began, as soon as he found the field -to be open for himself and his own manoeuvring. But he was very -young, and had not as yet learned the manner in which he might best -advance his cause with such a woman as Lady Laura Standish. He was -telling her too clearly that he could have no gratification in -talking with her unless he could be allowed to have her all to -himself. That might be very well if Lady Laura were in love with him, -but would hardly be the way to reduce her to that condition. - -"Mr. Finn," said she, smiling as she spoke, "I am sure that you did -not mean it, but you were uncourteous to my friend Mr. Kennedy." - -"Who? I? Was I? Upon my word, I didn't intend to be uncourteous." - -"If I had thought you had intended it, of course I could not tell you -of it. And now I take the liberty;--for it is a liberty--" - -"Oh no." - -"Because I feel so anxious that you should do nothing to mar your -chances as a rising man." - -"You are only too kind to me,--always." - -"I know how clever you are, and how excellent are all your instincts; -but I see that you are a little impetuous. I wonder whether you will -be angry if I take upon myself the task of mentor." - -"Nothing you could say would make me angry,--though you might make me -very unhappy." - -"I will not do that if I can help it. A mentor ought to be very old, -you know, and I am infinitely older than you are." - -"I should have thought it was the reverse;--indeed, I may say that I -know that it is," said Phineas. - -"I am not talking of years. Years have very little to do with the -comparative ages of men and women. A woman at forty is quite old, -whereas a man at forty is young." Phineas, remembering that he had -put down Mr. Kennedy's age as forty in his own mind, frowned when -he heard this, and walked about the room in displeasure. "And -therefore," continued Lady Laura, "I talk to you as though I were a -kind of grandmother." - -"You shall be my great-grandmother if you will only be kind enough to -me to say what you really think." - -"You must not then be so impetuous, and you must be a little -more careful to be civil to persons to whom you may not take any -particular fancy. Now Mr. Kennedy is a man who may be very useful to -you." - -"I do not want Mr. Kennedy to be of use to me." - -"That is what I call being impetuous,--being young,--being a boy. Why -should not Mr. Kennedy be of use to you as well as any one else? You -do not mean to conquer the world all by yourself." - -"No;--but there is something mean to me in the expressed idea that -I should make use of any man,--and more especially of a man whom I -don't like." - -"And why do you not like him, Mr. Finn?" - -"Because he is one of my Dr. Fells." - -"You don't like him simply because he does not talk much. That -may be a good reason why you should not make of him an intimate -companion,--because you like talkative people; but it should be no -ground for dislike." - -Phineas paused for a moment before he answered her, thinking whether -or not it would be well to ask her some question which might produce -from her a truth which he would not like to hear. Then he did ask it. -"And do you like him?" he said. - -She too paused, but only for a second. "Yes,--I think I may say that -I do like him." - -"No more than that?" - -"Certainly no more than that;--but that I think is a great deal." - -"I wonder what you would say if any one asked you whether you liked -me," said Phineas, looking away from her through the window. - -"Just the same;--but without the doubt, if the person who questioned -me had any right to ask the question. There are not above one or two -who could have such a right." - -"And I was wrong, of course, to ask it about Mr. Kennedy," said -Phineas, looking out into the Square. - -"I did not say so." - -"But I see you think it." - -"You see nothing of the kind. I was quite willing to be asked the -question by you, and quite willing to answer it. Mr. Kennedy is a man -of great wealth." - -"What can that have to do with it?" - -"Wait a moment, you impetuous Irish boy, and hear me out." Phineas -liked being called an impetuous Irish boy, and came close to her, -sitting where he could look up into her face; and there came a smile -upon his own, and he was very handsome. "I say that he is a man of -great wealth," continued Lady Laura; "and as wealth gives influence, -he is of great use,--politically,--to the party to which he belongs." - -"Oh, politically!" - -"Am I to suppose you care nothing for politics? To such men, to men -who think as you think, who are to sit on the same benches with -yourself, and go into the same lobby and be seen at the same club, -it is your duty to be civil both for your own sake and for that of -the cause. It is for the hermits of society to indulge in personal -dislikings,--for men who have never been active and never mean to be -active. I had been telling Mr. Kennedy how much I thought of you,--as -a good Liberal." - -"And I came in and spoilt it all." - -"Yes, you did. You knocked down my little house, and I must build it -all up again." - -"Don't trouble yourself, Lady Laura." - -"I shall. It will be a great deal of trouble,--a great deal, indeed; -but I shall take it. I mean you to be very intimate with Mr. Kennedy, -and to shoot his grouse, and to stalk his deer, and to help to -keep him in progress as a liberal member of Parliament. I am quite -prepared to admit, as a friend, that he would go back without some -such help." - -"Oh;--I understand." - -"I do not believe that you do understand at all, but I must endeavour -to make you do so by degrees. If you are to be my political pupil, -you must at any rate be obedient. The next time you meet Mr. Kennedy, -ask him his opinion instead of telling him your own. He has been in -Parliament twelve years, and he was a good deal older than you when -he began." At this moment a side door was opened, and the red-haired, -red-bearded man whom Phineas had seen before entered the room. He -hesitated a moment, as though he were going to retreat again, and -then began to pull about the books and toys which lay on one of the -distant tables, as though he were in quest of some article. And he -would have retreated had not Lady Laura called to him. - -"Oswald," she said, "let me introduce you to Mr. Finn. Mr. Finn, I do -not think you have ever met my brother, Lord Chiltern." Then the two -young men bowed, and each of them muttered something. "Do not be in a -hurry, Oswald. You have nothing special to take you away. Here is Mr. -Finn come to tell us who are all the possible new Prime Ministers. He -is uncivil enough not to have named papa." - -"My father is out of the question," said Lord Chiltern. - -"Of course he is," said Lady Laura, "but I may be allowed my little -joke." - -"I suppose he will at any rate be in the Cabinet," said Phineas. - -"I know nothing whatever about politics," said Lord Chiltern. - -"I wish you did," said his sister,--"with all my heart." - -"I never did,--and I never shall, for all your wishing. It's the -meanest trade going I think, and I'm sure it's the most dishonest. -They talk of legs on the turf, and of course there are legs; but what -are they to the legs in the House? I don't know whether you are in -Parliament, Mr. Finn." - -"Yes, I am; but do not mind me." - -"I beg your pardon. Of course there are honest men there, and no -doubt you are one of them." - -"He is indifferent honest,--as yet," said Lady Laura. - -"I was speaking of men who go into Parliament to look after -Government places," said Lord Chiltern. - -"That is just what I'm doing," said Phineas. "Why should not a man -serve the Crown? He has to work very hard for what he earns." - -"I don't believe that the most of them work at all. However, I beg -your pardon. I didn't mean you in particular." - -"Mr. Finn is such a thorough politician that he will never forgive -you," said Lady Laura. - -"Yes, I will," said Phineas, "and I'll convert him some day. If he -does come into the House, Lady Laura, I suppose he'll come on the -right side?" - -"I'll never go into the House, as you call it," said Lord Chiltern. -"But, I'll tell you what; I shall be very happy if you'll dine with -me to-morrow at Moroni's. They give you a capital little dinner at -Moroni's, and they've the best Chateau Yquem in London." - -"Do," said Lady Laura, in a whisper. "Oblige me." - -Phineas was engaged to dine with one of the Vice-Chancellors on the -day named. He had never before dined at the house of this great law -luminary, whose acquaintance he had made through Mr. Low, and he had -thought a great deal of the occasion. Mrs. Freemantle had sent him -the invitation nearly a fortnight ago, and he understood there was to -be an elaborate dinner party. He did not know it for a fact, but he -was in hopes of meeting the expiring Lord Chancellor. He considered -it to be his duty never to throw away such a chance. He would in -all respects have preferred Mr. Freemantle's dinner in Eaton Place, -dull and heavy though it might probably be, to the chance of Lord -Chiltern's companions at Moroni's. Whatever might be the faults of -our hero, he was not given to what is generally called dissipation -by the world at large,--by which the world means self-indulgence. He -cared not a brass farthing for Moroni's Chateau Yquem, nor for the -wondrously studied repast which he would doubtless find prepared for -him at that celebrated establishment in St. James's Street;--not a -farthing as compared with the chance of meeting so great a man as -Lord Moles. And Lord Chiltern's friends might probably be just the -men whom he would not desire to know. But Lady Laura's request -overrode everything with him. She had asked him to oblige her, and of -course he would do so. Had he been going to dine with the incoming -Prime Minister, he would have put off his engagement at her request. -He was not quick enough to make an answer without hesitation; but -after a moment's pause he said he should be most happy to dine with -Lord Chiltern at Moroni's. - -"That's right; 7.30 sharp,--only I can tell you you won't meet any -other members." Then the servant announced more visitors, and Lord -Chiltern escaped out of the room before he was seen by the new -comers. These were Mrs. Bonteen and Laurence Fitzgibbon, and then Mr. -Bonteen,--and after them Mr. Ratler, the Whip, who was in a violent -hurry, and did not stay there a moment, and then Barrington Erle and -young Lord James Fitz-Howard, the youngest son of the Duke of St. -Bungay. In twenty or thirty minutes there was a gathering of liberal -political notabilities in Lady Laura's drawing-room. There were two -great pieces of news by which they were all enthralled. Mr. Mildmay -would not be Prime Minister, and Sir Everard Powell was--dead. Of -course nothing quite positive could be known about Mr. Mildmay. He -was to be with the Queen at Windsor on the morrow at eleven o'clock, -and it was improbable that he would tell his mind to any one before -he told it to her Majesty. But there was no doubt that he had engaged -"the Duke,"--so he was called by Lord James,--to go down to Windsor -with him, that he might be in readiness if wanted. "I have learned -that at home," said Lord James, who had just heard the news from his -sister, who had heard it from the Duchess. Lord James was delighted -with the importance given to him by his father's coming journey. -From this, and from other equally well-known circumstances, it was -surmised that Mr. Mildmay would decline the task proposed to him. -This, nevertheless, was only a surmise,--whereas the fact with -reference to Sir Everard was fully substantiated. The gout had flown -to his stomach, and he was dead. "By ---- yes; as dead as a herring," -said Mr. Ratler, who at that moment, however, was not within hearing -of either of the ladies present. And then he rubbed his hands, and -looked as though he were delighted. And he was delighted,--not -because his old friend Sir Everard was dead, but by the excitement -of the tragedy. "Having done so good a deed in his last moments," -said Laurence Fitzgibbon, "we may take it for granted that he will -go straight to heaven." "I hope there will be no crowner's quest, -Ratler," said Mr. Bonteen; "if there is I don't know how you'll -get out of it." "I don't see anything in it so horrible," said -Mr. Ratler. "If a fellow dies leading his regiment we don't think -anything of it. Sir Everard's vote was of more service to his country -than anything that a colonel or a captain can do." But nevertheless -I think that Mr. Ratler was somewhat in dread of future newspaper -paragraphs, should it be found necessary to summon a coroner's -inquisition to sit upon poor Sir Everard. - -While this was going on Lady Laura took Phineas apart for a moment. -"I am so much obliged to you; I am indeed," she said. - -"What nonsense!" - -"Never mind whether it's nonsense or not;--but I am. I can't explain -it all now, but I do so want you to know my brother. You may be of -the greatest service to him,--of the very greatest. He is not half so -bad as people say he is. In many ways he is very good,--very good. -And he is very clever." - -"At any rate I will think and believe no ill of him." - -"Just so;--do not believe evil of him,--not more evil than you see. I -am so anxious,--so very anxious to try to put him on his legs, and I -find it so difficult to get any connecting link with him. Papa will -not speak with him,--because of money." - -"But he is friends with you." - -"Yes; I think he loves me. I saw how distasteful it was to you to go -to him;--and probably you were engaged?" - -"One can always get off those sort of things if there is an object." - -"Yes;--just so. And the object was to oblige me;--was it not?" - -"Of course it was. But I must go now. We are to hear Daubeny's -statement at four, and I would not miss it for worlds." - -"I wonder whether you would go abroad with my brother in the autumn? -But I have no right to think of such a thing;--have I? At any rate -I will not think of it yet. Good-bye,--I shall see you perhaps on -Sunday if you are in town." - -Phineas walked down to Westminster with his mind very full of Lady -Laura and Lord Chiltern. What did she mean by her affectionate -manner to himself, and what did she mean by the continual praises -which she lavished upon Mr. Kennedy? Of whom was she thinking most, -of Mr. Kennedy, or of him? She had called herself his mentor. Was -the description of her feelings towards himself, as conveyed in that -name, of a kind to be gratifying to him? No;--he thought not. But -then might it not be within his power to change the nature of those -feelings? She was not in love with him at present. He could not make -any boast to himself on that head. But it might be within his power -to compel her to love him. The female mentor might be softened. That -she could not love Mr. Kennedy, he thought that he was quite sure. -There was nothing like love in her manner to Mr. Kennedy. As to Lord -Chiltern, Phineas would do whatever might be in his power. All that -he really knew of Lord Chiltern was that he had gambled and that he -had drunk. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -The New Government - - -In the House of Lords that night, and in the House of Commons, the -outgoing Ministers made their explanations. As our business at the -present moment is with the Commons, we will confine ourselves to -their chamber, and will do so the more willingly because the upshot -of what was said in the two places was the same. The outgoing -ministers were very grave, very self-laudatory, and very courteous. -In regard to courtesy it may be declared that no stranger to the -ways of the place could have understood how such soft words could be -spoken by Mr. Daubeny, beaten, so quickly after the very sharp words -which he had uttered when he only expected to be beaten. He announced -to his fellow-commoners that his right honourable friend and -colleague Lord de Terrier had thought it right to retire from the -Treasury. Lord de Terrier, in constitutional obedience to the vote -of the Lower House, had resigned, and the Queen had been graciously -pleased to accept Lord de Terrier's resignation. Mr. Daubeny could -only inform the House that her Majesty had signified her pleasure -that Mr. Mildmay should wait upon her to-morrow at eleven o'clock. -Mr. Mildmay,--so Mr. Daubeny understood,--would be with her Majesty -to-morrow at that hour. Lord de Terrier had found it to be his duty -to recommend her Majesty to send for Mr. Mildmay. Such was the real -import of Mr. Daubeny's speech. That further portion of it in which -he explained with blandest, most beneficent, honey-flowing words that -his party would have done everything that the country could require -of any party, had the House allowed it to remain on the Treasury -benches for a month or two,--and explained also that his party would -never recriminate, would never return evil for evil, would in no wise -copy the factious opposition of their adversaries; that his party -would now, as it ever had done, carry itself with the meekness of -the dove, and the wisdom of the serpent,--all this, I say, was so -generally felt by gentlemen on both sides of the House to be "leather -and prunella" that very little attention was paid to it. The great -point was that Lord de Terrier had resigned, and that Mr. Mildmay had -been summoned to Windsor. - -The Queen had sent for Mr. Mildmay in compliance with advice given -to her by Lord de Terrier. And yet Lord de Terrier and his first -lieutenant had used all the most practised efforts of their eloquence -for the last three days in endeavouring to make their countrymen -believe that no more unfitting Minister than Mr. Mildmay ever -attempted to hold the reins of office! Nothing had been too bad -for them to say of Mr. Mildmay,--and yet, in the very first moment -in which they found themselves unable to carry on the Government -themselves, they advised the Queen to send for that most incompetent -and baneful statesman! We who are conversant with our own methods of -politics, see nothing odd in this, because we are used to it; but -surely in the eyes of strangers our practice must be very singular. -There is nothing like it in any other country,--nothing as yet. -Nowhere else is there the same good-humoured, affectionate, -prize-fighting ferocity in politics. The leaders of our two great -parties are to each other exactly as are the two champions of the -ring who knock each other about for the belt and for five hundred -pounds a side once in every two years. How they fly at each other, -striking as though each blow should carry death if it were but -possible! And yet there is no one whom the Birmingham Bantam -respects so highly as he does Bill Burns the Brighton Bully, or with -whom he has so much delight in discussing the merits of a pot of -half-and-half. And so it was with Mr. Daubeny and Mr. Mildmay. In -private life Mr. Daubeny almost adulated his elder rival,--and Mr. -Mildmay never omitted an opportunity of taking Mr. Daubeny warmly by -the hand. It is not so in the United States. There the same political -enmity exists, but the political enmity produces private hatred. The -leaders of parties there really mean what they say when they abuse -each other, and are in earnest when they talk as though they were -about to tear each other limb from limb. I doubt whether Mr. Daubeny -would have injured a hair of Mr. Mildmay's venerable head, even for -an assurance of six continued months in office. - -When Mr. Daubeny had completed his statement, Mr. Mildmay simply told -the House that he had received and would obey her Majesty's commands. -The House would of course understand that he by no means meant to -aver that the Queen would even commission him to form a Ministry. But -if he took no such command from her Majesty it would become his duty -to recommend her Majesty to impose the task upon some other person. -Then everything was said that had to be said, and members returned to -their clubs. A certain damp was thrown over the joy of some excitable -Liberals by tidings which reached the House during Mr. Daubeny's -speech. Sir Everard Powell was no more dead than was Mr. Daubeny -himself. Now it is very unpleasant to find that your news is untrue, -when you have been at great pains to disseminate it. "Oh, but he is -dead," said Mr. Ratler. "Lady Powell assured me half an hour ago," -said Mr. Ratler's opponent, "that he was at that moment a great deal -better than he had been for the last three months. The journey down -to the House did him a world of good." "Then we'll have him down for -every division," said Mr. Ratler. - -The political portion of London was in a ferment for the next five -days. On the Sunday morning it was known that Mr. Mildmay had -declined to put himself at the head of a liberal Government. He and -the Duke of St. Bungay, and Mr. Plantagenet Palliser, had been in -conference so often, and so long, that it may almost be said they -lived together in conference. Then Mr. Gresham had been with Mr. -Mildmay,--and Mr. Monk also. At the clubs it was said by many that -Mr. Monk had been with Mr. Mildmay; but it was also said very -vehemently by others that no such interview had taken place. Mr. Monk -was a Radical, much admired by the people, sitting in Parliament for -that most Radical of all constituencies, the Pottery Hamlets, who -had never as yet been in power. It was the great question of the day -whether Mr. Mildmay would or would not ask Mr. Monk to join him; and -it was said by those who habitually think at every period of change -that the time has now come in which the difficulties to forming a -government will at last be found to be insuperable, that Mr. Mildmay -could not succeed either with Mr. Monk or without him. There were at -the present moment two sections of these gentlemen,--the section -which declared that Mr. Mildmay had sent for Mr. Monk, and the -section which declared that he had not. But there were others, who -perhaps knew better what they were saying, by whom it was asserted -that the whole difficulty lay with Mr. Gresham. Mr. Gresham was -willing to serve with Mr. Mildmay,--with certain stipulations as -to the special seat in the Cabinet which he himself was to occupy, -and as to the introduction of certain friends of his own; but,--so -said these gentlemen who were supposed really to understand the -matter,--Mr. Gresham was not willing to serve with the Duke and with -Mr. Palliser. Now, everybody who knew anything knew that the Duke -and Mr. Palliser were indispensable to Mr. Mildmay. And a liberal -Government, with Mr. Gresham in the opposition, could not live half -through a session! All Sunday and Monday these things were discussed; -and on the Monday Lord de Terrier absolutely stated to the Upper -House that he had received her Majesty's commands to form another -government. Mr. Daubeny, in half a dozen most modest words,--in words -hardly audible, and most unlike himself,--made his statement in the -Lower House to the same effect. Then Mr. Ratler, and Mr. Bonteen, and -Mr. Barrington Erle, and Mr. Laurence Fitzgibbon aroused themselves -and swore that such things could not be. Should the prey which they -had won for themselves, the spoil of their bows and arrows, be -snatched from out of their very mouths by treachery? Lord de Terrier -and Mr. Daubeny could not venture even to make another attempt unless -they did so in combination with Mr. Gresham. Such a combination, said -Mr. Barrington Erle, would be disgraceful to both parties, but would -prove Mr. Gresham to be as false as Satan himself. Early on the -Tuesday morning, when it was known that Mr. Gresham had been at Lord -de Terrier's house, Barrington Erle was free to confess that he had -always been afraid of Mr. Gresham. "I have felt for years," said he, -"that if anybody could break up the party it would be Mr. Gresham." - -On that Tuesday morning Mr. Gresham certainly was with Lord de -Terrier, but nothing came of it. Mr. Gresham was either not enough -like Satan for the occasion, or else he was too closely like him. -Lord de Terrier did not bid high enough, or else Mr. Gresham did not -like biddings from that quarter. Nothing then came from this attempt, -and on the Tuesday afternoon the Queen again sent for Mr. Mildmay. On -the Wednesday morning the gentlemen who thought that the insuperable -difficulties had at length arrived, began to wear their longest -faces, and to be triumphant with melancholy forebodings. Now at -last there was a dead lock. Nobody could form a government. It -was asserted that Mr. Mildmay had fallen at her Majesty's feet -dissolved in tears, and had implored to be relieved from further -responsibility. It was well known to many at the clubs that the Queen -had on that morning telegraphed to Germany for advice. There were men -so gloomy as to declare that the Queen must throw herself into the -arms of Mr. Monk, unless Mr. Mildmay would consent to rise from his -knees and once more buckle on his ancient armour. "Even that would -be better than Gresham," said Barrington Erle, in his anger. "I'll -tell you what it is," said Ratler, "we shall have Gresham and Monk -together, and you and I shall have to do their biddings." Mr. -Barrington Erle's reply to that suggestion I may not dare to insert -in these pages. - -On the Wednesday night, however, it was known that everything had -been arranged, and before the Houses met on the Thursday every place -had been bestowed, either in reality or in imagination. The _Times_, -in its second edition on the Thursday, gave a list of the Cabinet, in -which four places out of fourteen were rightly filled. On the Friday -it named ten places aright, and indicated the law officers, with only -one mistake in reference to Ireland; and on the Saturday it gave -a list of the Under Secretaries of State, and Secretaries and -Vice-Presidents generally, with wonderful correctness as to the -individuals, though the offices were a little jumbled. The Government -was at last formed in a manner which everybody had seen to be the -only possible way in which a government could be formed. Nobody was -surprised, and the week's work was regarded as though the regular -routine of government making had simply been followed. Mr. Mildmay -was Prime Minister; Mr. Gresham was at the Foreign Office; Mr. Monk -was at the Board of Trade; the Duke was President of the Council; the -Earl of Brentford was Privy Seal; and Mr. Palliser was Chancellor of -the Exchequer. Barrington Erle made a step up in the world, and went -to the Admiralty as Secretary; Mr. Bonteen was sent again to the -Admiralty; and Laurence Fitzgibbon became a junior Lord of the -Treasury. Mr. Ratler was, of course, installed as Patronage Secretary -to the same Board. Mr. Ratler was perhaps the only man in the party -as to whose destination there could not possibly be a doubt. Mr. -Ratler had really qualified himself for a position in such a way as -to make all men feel that he would, as a matter of course, be called -upon to fill it. I do not know whether as much could be said on -behalf of any other man in the new Government. - -During all this excitement, and through all these movements, Phineas -Finn felt himself to be left more and more out in the cold. He had -not been such a fool as to suppose that any office would be offered -to him. He had never hinted at such a thing to his one dearly -intimate friend, Lady Laura. He had not hitherto opened his mouth in -Parliament. Indeed, when the new Government was formed he had not -been sitting for above a fortnight. Of course nothing could be done -for him as yet. But, nevertheless, he felt himself to be out in the -cold. The very men who had discussed with him the question of the -division,--who had discussed it with him because his vote was then as -good as that of any other member,--did not care to talk to him about -the distribution of places. He, at any rate, could not be one of -them. He, at any rate, could not be a rival. He could neither mar -nor assist. He could not be either a successful or a disappointed -sympathiser,--because he could not himself be a candidate. The affair -which perhaps disgusted him more than anything else was the offer of -an office,--not in the Cabinet, indeed, but one supposed to confer -high dignity,--to Mr. Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy refused the offer, and -this somewhat lessened Finn's disgust, but the offer itself made him -unhappy. - -"I suppose it was made simply because of his money," he said to -Fitzgibbon. - -"I don't believe that," said Fitzgibbon. "People seem to think that -he has got a head on his shoulders, though he has got no tongue in -it. I wonder at his refusing it because of the Right Honourable." - -"I am so glad that Mr. Kennedy refused," said Lady Laura to him. - -"And why? He would have been the Right Hon. Robert Kennedy for ever -and ever." Phineas when he said this did not as yet know exactly -how it would have come to pass that such honour,--the honour of the -enduring prefix to his name,--would have come in the way of Mr. -Kennedy had Mr. Kennedy accepted the office in question; but he was -very quick to learn all these things, and, in the meantime, he rarely -made any mistake about them. - -"What would that have been to him,--with his wealth?" said Lady -Laura. "He has a position of his own and need not care for such -things. There are men who should not attempt what is called -independence in Parliament. By doing so they simply decline to make -themselves useful. But there are a few whose special walk in life it -is to be independent, and, as it were, unmoved by parties." - -"Great Akinetoses! You know Orion," said Phineas. - -"Mr. Kennedy is not an Akinetos," said Lady Laura. - -"He holds a very proud position," said Phineas, ironically. - -"A very proud position indeed," said Lady Laura, in sober earnest. - -The dinner at Moroni's had been eaten, and Phineas had given an -account of the entertainment to Lord Chiltern's sister. There had -been only two other guests, and both of them had been men on the -turf. "I was the first there," said Phineas, "and he surprised me -ever so much by telling me that you had spoken to him of me before." - -"Yes; I did so. I wish him to know you. I want him to know some men -who think of something besides horses. He is very well educated, you -know, and would certainly have taken honours if he had not quarrelled -with the people at Christ Church." - -"Did he take a degree?" - -"No;--they sent him down. It is best always to have the truth among -friends. Of course you will hear it some day. They expelled him -because he was drunk." Then Lady Laura burst out into tears, and -Phineas sat near her, and consoled her, and swore that if in any way -he could befriend her brother he would do so. - -Mr. Fitzgibbon at this time claimed a promise which he said that -Phineas had made to him,--that Phineas would go over with him to Mayo -to assist at his re-election. And Phineas did go. The whole affair -occupied but a week, and was chiefly memorable as being the means of -cementing the friendship which existed between the two Irish members. - -"A thousand a year!" said Laurence Fitzgibbon, speaking of the salary -of his office. "It isn't much; is it? And every fellow to whom I owe -a shilling will be down upon me. If I had studied my own comfort, I -should have done the same as Kennedy." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -Violet Effingham - - -It was now the middle of May, and a month had elapsed since the -terrible difficulty about the Queen's Government had been solved. A -month had elapsed, and things had shaken themselves into their places -with more of ease and apparent fitness than men had given them credit -for possessing. Mr. Mildmay, Mr. Gresham, and Mr. Monk were the best -friends in the world, swearing by each other in their own house, and -supported in the other by as gallant a phalanx of Whig peers as ever -were got together to fight against the instincts of their own order -in compliance with the instincts of those below them. Lady Laura's -father was in the Cabinet, to Lady Laura's infinite delight. It -was her ambition to be brought as near to political action as was -possible for a woman without surrendering any of the privileges of -feminine inaction. That women should even wish to have votes at -parliamentary elections was to her abominable, and the cause of the -Rights of Women generally was odious to her; but, nevertheless, for -herself, she delighted in hoping that she too might be useful,--in -thinking that she too was perhaps, in some degree, politically -powerful; and she had received considerable increase to such hopes -when her father accepted the Privy Seal. The Earl himself was not an -ambitious man, and, but for his daughter, would have severed himself -altogether from political life before this time. He was an unhappy -man;--being an obstinate man, and having in his obstinacy quarrelled -with his only son. In his unhappiness he would have kept himself -alone, living in the country, brooding over his wretchedness, were -it not for his daughter. On her behalf, and in obedience to her -requirements, he came yearly up to London, and, perhaps in compliance -with her persuasion, had taken some part in the debates of the House -of Lords. It is easy for a peer to be a statesman, if the trouble of -the life be not too much for him. Lord Brentford was now a statesman, -if a seat in the Cabinet be proof of statesmanship. - -At this time, in May, there was staying with Lady Laura in Portman -Square a very dear friend of hers, by name Violet Effingham. Violet -Effingham was an orphan, an heiress, and a beauty; with a terrible -aunt, one Lady Baldock, who was supposed to be the dragon who had -Violet, as a captive maiden, in charge. But as Miss Effingham was of -age, and was mistress of her own fortune, Lady Baldock was, in truth, -not omnipotent as a dragon should be. The dragon, at any rate, was -not now staying in Portman Square, and the captivity of the maiden -was therefore not severe at the present moment. Violet Effingham was -very pretty, but could hardly be said to be beautiful. She was small, -with light crispy hair, which seemed to be ever on the flutter round -her brows, and which yet was never a hair astray. She had sweet, soft -grey eyes, which never looked at you long, hardly for a moment,--but -which yet, in that half moment, nearly killed you by the power of -their sweetness. Her cheek was the softest thing in nature, and the -colour of it, when its colour was fixed enough to be told, was a -shade of pink so faint and creamy that you would hardly dare to call -it by its name. Her mouth was perfect, not small enough to give that -expression of silliness which is so common, but almost divine, with -the temptation of its full, rich, ruby lips. Her teeth, which she but -seldom showed, were very even and very white, and there rested on her -chin the dearest dimple that ever acted as a loadstar to mens's eyes. -The fault of her face, if it had a fault, was in her nose,--which -was a little too sharp, and perhaps too small. A woman who wanted to -depreciate Violet Effingham had once called her a pug-nosed puppet; -but I, as her chronicler, deny that she was pug-nosed,--and all the -world who knew her soon came to understand that she was no puppet. In -figure she was small, but not so small as she looked to be. Her feet -and hands were delicately fine, and there was a softness about her -whole person, an apparent compressibility, which seemed to indicate -that she might go into very small compass. Into what compass and -how compressed, there were very many men who held very different -opinions. Violet Effingham was certainly no puppet. She was great -at dancing,--as perhaps might be a puppet,--but she was great also -at archery, great at skating,--and great, too, at hunting. With -reference to that last accomplishment, she and Lady Baldock had had -more than one terrible tussle, not always with advantage to the -dragon. "My dear aunt," she had said once during the last winter, -"I am going to the meet with George,"--George was her cousin, Lord -Baldock, and was the dragon's son,--"and there, let there be an end -of it." "And you will promise me that you will not go further," said -the dragon. "I will promise nothing to-day to any man or to any -woman," said Violet. What was to be said to a young lady who spoke in -this way, and who had become of age only a fortnight since? She rode -that day the famous run from Bagnall's Gorse to Foulsham Common, and -was in at the death. - -Violet Effingham was now sitting in conference with her friend Lady -Laura, and they were discussing matters of high import,--of very high -import, indeed,--to the interests of both of them. "I do not ask you -to accept him," said Lady Laura. - -"That is lucky," said the other, "as he has never asked me." - -"He has done much the same. You know that he loves you." - -"I know,--or fancy that I know,--that so many men love me! But, after -all, what sort of love is it? It is just as when you and I, when we -see something nice in a shop, call it a dear duck of a thing, and -tell somebody to go and buy it, let the price be ever so extravagant. -I know my own position, Laura. I'm a dear duck of a thing." - -"You are a very dear thing to Oswald." - -"But you, Laura, will some day inspire a grand passion,--or I daresay -have already, for you are a great deal too close to tell;--and then -there will be cutting of throats, and a mighty hubbub, and a real -tragedy. I shall never go beyond genteel comedy,--unless I run away -with somebody beneath me, or do something awfully improper." - -"Don't do that, dear." - -"I should like to, because of my aunt. I should indeed. If it were -possible, without compromising myself, I should like her to be told -some morning that I had gone off with the curate." - -"How can you be so wicked, Violet!" - -"It would serve her right, and her countenance would be so awfully -comic. Mind, if it is ever to come off, I must be there to see it. I -know what she would say as well as possible. She would turn to poor -Gussy. 'Augusta,' she would say, 'I always expected it. I always -did.' Then I should come out and curtsey to her, and say so prettily, -'Dear aunt, it was only our little joke.' That's my line. But for -you,--you, if you planned it, would go off to-morrow with Lucifer -himself if you liked him." - -"But failing Lucifer, I shall probably be very humdrum." - -"You don't mean that there is anything settled, Laura?" - -"There is nothing settled,--or any beginning of anything that ever -can be settled, But I am not talking about myself. He has told me -that if you will accept him, he will do anything that you and I may -ask him." - -"Yes;--he will promise." - -"Did you ever know him to break his word?" - -"I know nothing about him, my dear. How should I?" - -"Do not pretend to be ignorant and meek, Violet. You do know -him,--much better than most girls know the men they marry. You have -known him, more or less intimately, all your life." - -"But am I bound to marry him because of that accident?" - -"No; you are not bound to marry him,--unless you love him." - -"I do not love him," said Violet, with slow, emphatic words, and a -little forward motion of her face, as though she were specially eager -to convince her friend that she was quite in earnest in what she -said. - -"I fancy, Violet, that you are nearer to loving him than any other -man." - -"I am not at all near to loving any man. I doubt whether I ever shall -be. It does not seem to me to be possible to myself to be what girls -call in love. I can like a man. I do like, perhaps, half a dozen. I -like them so much that if I go to a house or to a party it is quite -a matter of importance to me whether this man or that will or will -not be there. And then I suppose I flirt with them. At least Augusta -tells me that my aunt says that I do. But as for caring about any one -of them in the way of loving him,--wanting to marry him, and have him -all to myself, and that sort of thing,--I don't know what it means." - -"But you intend to be married some day," said Lady Laura. - -"Certainly I do. And I don't intend to wait very much longer. I am -heartily tired of Lady Baldock, and though I can generally escape -among my friends, that is not sufficient. I am beginning to think -that it would be pleasant to have a house of my own. A girl becomes -such a Bohemian when she is always going about, and doesn't quite -know where any of her things are." - -Then there was a silence between them for a few minutes. Violet -Effingham was doubled up in a corner of a sofa, with her feet tucked -under her, and her face reclining upon one of her shoulders. And as -she talked she was playing with a little toy which was constructed -to take various shapes as it was flung this way or that. A bystander -looking at her would have thought that the toy was much more to her -than the conversation. Lady Laura was sitting upright, in a common -chair, at a table not far from her companion, and was manifestly -devoting herself altogether to the subject that was being discussed -between them. She had taken no lounging, easy attitude, she had found -no employment for her fingers, and she looked steadily at Violet as -she talked,--whereas Violet was looking only at the little manikin -which she tossed. And now Laura got up and came to the sofa, and sat -close to her friend. Violet, though she somewhat moved one foot, so -as to seem to make room for the other, still went on with her play. - -"If you do marry, Violet, you must choose some one man out of the -lot." - -"That's quite true, my dear, I certainly can't marry them all." - -"And how do you mean to make the choice?" - -"I don't know. I suppose I shall toss up." - -"I wish you would be in earnest with me." - -"Well;--I will be in earnest. I shall take the first that comes after -I have quite made up my mind. You'll think it very horrible, but that -is really what I shall do. After all, a husband is very much like a -house or a horse. You don't take your house because it's the best -house in the world, but because just then you want a house. You go -and see a house, and if it's very nasty you don't take it. But if -you think it will suit pretty well, and if you are tired of looking -about for houses, you do take it. That's the way one buys one's -horses,--and one's husbands." - -"And you have not made up your mind yet?" - -"Not quite. Lady Baldock was a little more decent than usual just -before I left Baddingham. When I told her that I meant to have a pair -of ponies, she merely threw up her hands and grunted. She didn't -gnash her teeth, and curse and swear, and declare to me that I was a -child of perdition." - -"What do you mean by cursing and swearing?" - -"She told me once that if I bought a certain little dog, it would -lead to my being everlastingly--you know what. She isn't so squeamish -as I am, and said it out." - -"What did you do?" - -"I bought the little dog, and it bit my aunt's heel. I was very sorry -then, and gave the creature to Mary Rivers. He was such a beauty! I -hope the perdition has gone with him, for I don't like Mary Rivers -at all. I had to give the poor beasty to somebody, and Mary Rivers -happened to be there. I told her that Puck was connected with -Apollyon, but she didn't mind that. Puck was worth twenty guineas, -and I daresay she has sold him." - -"Oswald may have an equal chance then among the other favourites?" -said Lady Laura, after another pause. - -"There are no favourites, and I will not say that any man may have a -chance. Why do you press me about your brother in this way?" - -"Because I am so anxious. Because it would save him. Because you are -the only woman for whom he has ever cared, and because he loves you -with all his heart; and because his father would be reconciled to him -to-morrow if he heard that you and he were engaged." - -"Laura, my dear--" - -"Well." - -"You won't be angry if I speak out?" - -"Certainly not. After what I have said, you have a right to speak -out." - -"It seems to me that all your reasons are reasons why he should marry -me;--not reasons why I should marry him." - -"Is not his love for you a reason?" - -"No," said Violet, pausing,--and speaking the word in the lowest -possible whisper. "If he did not love me, that, if known to me, -should be a reason why I should not marry him. Ten men may love -me,--I don't say that any man does--" - -"He does." - -"But I can't marry all the ten. And as for that business of saving -him--" - -"You know what I mean!" - -"I don't know that I have any special mission for saving young men. I -sometimes think that I shall have quite enough to do to save myself. -It is strange what a propensity I feel for the wrong side of the -post." - -"I feel the strongest assurance that you will always keep on the -right side." - -"Thank you, my dear. I mean to try, but I'm quite sure that the -jockey who takes me in hand ought to be very steady himself. Now, -Lord Chiltern--" - -"Well,--out with it. What have you to say?" - -"He does not bear the best reputation in this world as a steady man. -Is he altogether the sort of man that mammas of the best kind are -seeking for their daughters? I like a roue myself;--and a prig who -sits all night in the House, and talks about nothing but church-rates -and suffrage, is to me intolerable. I prefer men who are improper, -and all that sort of thing. If I were a man myself I should go in for -everything I ought to leave alone. I know I should. But you see,--I'm -not a man, and I must take care of myself. The wrong side of a post -for a woman is so very much the wrong side. I like a fast man, but I -know that I must not dare to marry the sort of man that I like." - -"To be one of us, then,--the very first among us;--would that be the -wrong side?" - -"You mean that to be Lady Chiltern in the present tense, and Lady -Brentford in the future, would be promotion for Violet Effingham in -the past?" - -"How hard you are, Violet!" - -"Fancy,--that it should come to this,--that you should call me hard, -Laura. I should like to be your sister. I should like well enough to -be your father's daughter. I should like well enough to be Chiltern's -friend. I am his friend. Nothing that any one has ever said of him -has estranged me from him. I have fought for him till I have been -black in the face. Yes, I have,--with my aunt. But I am afraid to be -his wife. The risk would be so great. Suppose that I did not save -him, but that he brought me to shipwreck instead?" - -"That could not be!" - -"Could it not? I think it might be so very well. When I was a child -they used to be always telling me to mind myself. It seems to me that -a child and a man need not mind themselves. Let them do what they -may, they can be set right again. Let them fall as they will, you can -put them on their feet. But a woman has to mind herself;--and very -hard work it is when she has a dragon of her own driving her ever the -wrong way." - -"I want to take you from the dragon." - -"Yes;--and to hand me over to a griffin." - -"The truth is, Violet, that you do not know Oswald. He is not a -griffin." - -"I did not mean to be uncomplimentary. Take any of the dangerous -wild beasts you please. I merely intend to point out that he is a -dangerous wild beast. I daresay he is noble-minded, and I will call -him a lion if you like it better. But even with a lion there is -risk." - -"Of course there will be risk. There is risk with every man,--unless -you will be contented with the prig you described. Of course there -would be risk with my brother. He has been a gambler." - -"They say he is one still." - -"He has given it up in part, and would entirely at your instance." - -"And they say other things of him, Laura." - -"It is true. He has had paroxysms of evil life which have well-nigh -ruined him." - -"And these paroxysms are so dangerous! Is he not in debt?" - -"He is,--but not deeply. Every shilling that he owes would be -paid;--every shilling. Mind, I know all his circumstances, and I -give you my word that every shilling should be paid. He has never -lied,--and he has told me everything. His father could not leave an -acre away from him if he would, and would not if he could." - -"I did not ask as fearing that. I spoke only of a dangerous habit. A -paroxysm of spending money is apt to make one so uncomfortable. And -then--" - -"Well." - -"I don't know why I should make a catalogue of your brother's -weaknesses." - -"You mean to say that he drinks too much?" - -"I do not say so. People say so. The dragon says so. And as I always -find her sayings to be untrue, I suppose this is like the rest of -them." - -"It is untrue if it be said of him as a habit." - -"It is another paroxysm,--just now and then." - -"Do not laugh at me, Violet, when I am taking his part, or I shall be -offended." - -"But you see, if I am to be his wife, it is--rather important." - -"Still you need not ridicule me." - -"Dear Laura, you know I do not ridicule you. You know I love you for -what you are doing. Would not I do the same, and fight for him down -to my nails if I had a brother?" - -"And therefore I want you to be Oswald's wife;--because I know that -you would fight for him. It is not true that he is a--drunkard. Look -at his hand, which is as steady as yours. Look at his eye. Is there a -sign of it? He has been drunk, once or twice, perhaps,--and has done -fearful things." - -"It might be that he would do fearful things to me." - -"You never knew a man with a softer heart or with a finer spirit. I -believe as I sit here that if he were married to-morrow, his vices -would fall from him like old clothes." - -"You will admit, Laura, that there will be some risk for the wife." - -"Of course there will be a risk. Is there not always a risk?" - -"The men in the city would call this double-dangerous, I think," said -Violet. Then the door was opened, and the man of whom they were -speaking entered the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -Lord Chiltern - - -The reader has been told that Lord Chiltern was a red man, and that -peculiarity of his personal appearance was certainly the first to -strike a stranger. It imparted a certain look of ferocity to him, -which was apt to make men afraid of him at first sight. Women are not -actuated in the same way, and are accustomed to look deeper into men -at the first sight than other men will trouble themselves to do. His -beard was red, and was clipped, so as to have none of the softness of -waving hair. The hair on his head also was kept short, and was very -red,--and the colour of his face was red. Nevertheless he was a -handsome man, with well-cut features, not tall, but very strongly -built, and with a certain curl in the corner of his eyelids which -gave to him a look of resolution,--which perhaps he did not possess. -He was known to be a clever man, and when very young had had -the reputation of being a scholar. When he was three-and-twenty -grey-haired votaries of the turf declared that he would make his -fortune on the race-course,--so clear-headed was he as to odds, so -excellent a judge of a horse's performances, and so gifted with a -memory of events. When he was five-and-twenty he had lost every -shilling of a fortune of his own, had squeezed from his father more -than his father ever chose to name in speaking of his affairs to -any one, and was known to be in debt. But he had sacrificed himself -on one or two memorable occasions in conformity with turf laws of -honour, and men said of him, either that he was very honest or very -chivalric,--in accordance with the special views on the subject of -the man who was speaking. It was reported now that he no longer owned -horses on the turf;--but this was doubted by some who could name -the animals which they said that he owned, and which he ran in the -name of Mr. Macnab,--said some; of Mr. Pardoe,--said others; of Mr. -Chickerwick,--said a third set of informants. The fact was that Lord -Chiltern at this moment had no interest of his own in any horse upon -the turf. - -But all the world knew that he drank. He had taken by the throat -a proctor's bull-dog when he had been drunk at Oxford, had nearly -strangled the man, and had been expelled. He had fallen through his -violence into some terrible misfortune at Paris, had been brought -before a public judge, and his name and his infamy had been made -notorious in every newspaper in the two capitals. After that he had -fought a ruffian at Newmarket, and had really killed him with his -fists. In reference to this latter affray it had been proved that the -attack had been made on him, that he had not been to blame, and that -he had not been drunk. After a prolonged investigation he had come -forth from that affair without disgrace. He would have done so, at -least, if he had not been heretofore disgraced. But we all know how -the man well spoken of may steal a horse, while he who is of evil -repute may not look over a hedge. It was asserted widely by many who -were supposed to know all about everything that Lord Chiltern was in -a fit of delirium tremens when he killed the ruffian at Newmarket. -The worst of that latter affair was that it produced the total -estrangement which now existed between Lord Brentford and his son. -Lord Brentford would not believe that his son was in that matter -more sinned against than sinning. "Such things do not happen to -other men's sons," he said, when Lady Laura pleaded for her brother. -Lady Laura could not induce her father to see his son, but so far -prevailed that no sentence of banishment was pronounced against -Lord Chiltern. There was nothing to prevent the son sitting at -his father's table if he so pleased. He never did so please,--but -nevertheless he continued to live in the house in Portman Square; -and when he met the Earl, in the hall, perhaps, or on the staircase, -would simply bow to him. Then the Earl would bow again, and shuffle -on,--and look very wretched, as no doubt he was. A grown-up son must -be the greatest comfort a man can have,--if he be his father's best -friend; but otherwise he can hardly be a comfort. As it was in this -house, the son was a constant thorn in his father's side. - -"What does he do when we leave London?" Lord Brentford once said to -his daughter. - -"He stays here, papa." - -"But he hunts still?" - -"Yes, he hunts,--and he has a room somewhere at an inn,--down in -Northamptonshire. But he is mostly in London. They have trains on -purpose." - -"What a life for my son!" said the Earl. "What a life! Of course no -decent person will let him into his house." Lady Laura did not know -what to say to this, for in truth Lord Chiltern was not fond of -staying at the houses of persons whom the Earl would have called -decent. - -General Effingham, the father of Violet, and Lord Brentford had been -the closest and dearest of friends. They had been young men in the -same regiment, and through life each had confided in the other. When -the General's only son, then a youth of seventeen, was killed in -one of our grand New Zealand wars, the bereaved father and the Earl -had been together for a month in their sorrow. At that time Lord -Chiltern's career had still been open to hope,--and the one man had -contrasted his lot with the other. General Effingham lived long -enough to hear the Earl declare that his lot was the happier of the -two. Now the General was dead, and Violet, the daughter of a second -wife, was all that was left of the Effinghams. This second wife had -been a Miss Plummer, a lady from the city with much money, whose -sister had married Lord Baldock. Violet in this way had fallen to the -care of the Baldock people, and not into the hands of her father's -friends. But, as the reader will have surmised, she had ideas of her -own of emancipating herself from Baldock thraldom. - -Twice before that last terrible affair at Newmarket, before the -quarrel between the father and the son had been complete, Lord -Brentford had said a word to his daughter,--merely a word,--of his -son in connection with Miss Effingham. - -"If he thinks of it I shall be glad to see him on the subject. You -may tell him so." That had been the first word. He had just then -resolved that the affair in Paris should be regarded as condoned,--as -among the things to be forgotten. "She is too good for him; but if he -asks her let him tell her everything." That had been the second word, -and had been spoken immediately subsequent to a payment of twelve -thousand pounds made by the Earl towards the settlement of certain -Doncaster accounts. Lady Laura in negotiating for the money had -been very eloquent in describing some honest,--or shall we say -chivalric,--sacrifice which had brought her brother into this special -difficulty. Since that the Earl had declined to interest himself in -his son's matrimonial affairs; and when Lady Laura had once again -mentioned the matter, declaring her belief that it would be the means -of saving her brother Oswald, the Earl had desired her to be silent. -"Would you wish to destroy the poor child?" he had said. Nevertheless -Lady Laura felt sure that if she were to go to her father with a -positive statement that Oswald and Violet were engaged, he would -relent and would accept Violet as his daughter. As for the payment of -Lord Chiltern's present debts;--she had a little scheme of her own -about that. - -Miss Effingham, who had been already two days in Portman Square, had -not as yet seen Lord Chiltern. She knew that he lived in the house, -that is, that he slept there, and probably eat his breakfast in some -apartment of his own;--but she knew also that the habits of the house -would not by any means make it necessary that they should meet. Laura -and her brother probably saw each other daily,--but they never went -into society together, and did not know the same sets of people. -When she had announced to Lady Baldock her intention of spending the -first fortnight of her London season with her friend Lady Laura, -Lady Baldock had as a matter of course--"jumped upon her," as Miss -Effingham would herself call it. - -"You are going to the house of the worst reprobate in all England," -said Lady Baldock. - -"What;--dear old Lord Brentford, whom papa loved so well!" - -"I mean Lord Chiltern, who, only last year,--murdered a man!" - -"That is not true, aunt." - -"There is worse than that,--much worse. He is always--tipsy, and -always gambling, and always-- But it is quite unfit that I should -speak a word more to you about such a man as Lord Chiltern. His name -ought never to be mentioned." - -"Then why did you mention it, aunt?" - -Lady Baldock's process of jumping upon her niece,--in which I think -the aunt had generally the worst of the exercise,--went on for some -time, but Violet of course carried her point. - -"If she marries him there will be an end of everything," said Lady -Baldock to her daughter Augusta. - -"She has more sense than that, mamma," said Augusta. - -"I don't think she has any sense at all," said Lady Baldock;--"not in -the least. I do wish my poor sister had lived;--I do indeed." - -Lord Chiltern was now in the room with Violet,--immediately upon that -conversation between Violet and his sister as to the expediency of -Violet becoming his wife. Indeed his entrance had interrupted the -conversation before it was over. "I am so glad to see you, Miss -Effingham," he said. "I came in thinking that I might find you." - -"Here I am, as large as life," she said, getting up from her -corner on the sofa and giving him her hand. "Laura and I have been -discussing the affairs of the nation for the last two days, and have -nearly brought our discussion to an end." She could not help looking, -first at his eye and then at his hand, not as wanting evidence to -the truth of the statement which his sister had made, but because -the idea of a drunkard's eye and a drunkard's hand had been brought -before her mind. Lord Chiltern's hand was like the hand of any other -man, but there was something in his eye that almost frightened her. -It looked as though he would not hesitate to wring his wife's neck -round, if ever he should be brought to threaten to do so. And then -his eye, like the rest of him, was red. No;--she did not think that -she could ever bring herself to marry him. Why take a venture that -was double-dangerous, when there were so many ventures open to her, -apparently with very little of danger attached to them? "If it should -ever be said that I loved him, I would do it all the same," she said -to herself. - -"If I did not come and see you here, I suppose that I should never -see you," said he, seating himself. "I do not often go to parties, -and when I do you are not likely to be there." - -"We might make our little arrangements for meeting," said she, -laughing. "My aunt, Lady Baldock, is going to have an evening next -week." - -"The servants would be ordered to put me out of the house." - -"Oh no. You can tell her that I invited you." - -"I don't think that Oswald and Lady Baldock are great friends," said -Lady Laura. - -"Or he might come and take you and me to the Zoo on Sunday. That's -the proper sort of thing for a brother and a friend to do." - -"I hate that place in the Regent's Park," said Lord Chiltern. - -"When were you there last?" demanded Miss Effingham. - -"When I came home once from Eton. But I won't go again till I can -come home from Eton again." Then he altered his tone as he continued -to speak. "People would look at me as if I were the wildest beast in -the whole collection." - -"Then," said Violet, "if you won't go to Lady Baldock's or to the -Zoo, we must confine ourselves to Laura's drawing-room;--unless, -indeed, you like to take me to the top of the Monument." - -"I'll take you to the top of the Monument with pleasure." - -"What do you say, Laura?" - -"I say that you are a foolish girl," said Lady Laura, "and that I -will have nothing to do with such a scheme." - -"Then there is nothing for it but that you should come here; and as -you live in the house, and as I am sure to be here every morning, -and as you have no possible occupation for your time, and as we have -nothing particular to do with ours,--I daresay I shan't see you again -before I go to my aunt's in Berkeley Square." - -"Very likely not," he said. - -"And why not, Oswald?" asked his sister. - -He passed his hand over his face before he answered her. "Because she -and I run in different grooves now, and are not such meet playfellows -as we used to be once. Do you remember my taking you away right -through Saulsby Wood once on the old pony, and not bringing you back -till tea-time, and Miss Blink going and telling my father?" - -"Do I remember it? I think it was the happiest day in my life. His -pockets were crammed full of gingerbread and Everton toffy, and we -had three bottles of lemonade slung on to the pony's saddlebows. I -thought it was a pity that we should ever come back." - -"It was a pity," said Lord Chiltern. - -"But, nevertheless, substantially necessary," said Lady Laura. - -"Failing our power of reproducing the toffy, I suppose it was," said -Violet. - -"You were not Miss Effingham then," said Lord Chiltern. - -"No,--not as yet. These disagreeable realities of life grow upon -one; do they not? You took off my shoes and dried them for me at a -woodman's cottage. I am obliged to put up with my maid's doing those -things now. And Miss Blink the mild is changed for Lady Baldock the -martinet. And if I rode about with you in a wood all day I should -be sent to Coventry instead of to bed. And so you see everything is -changed as well as my name." - -"Everything is not changed," said Lord Chiltern, getting up from -his seat. "I am not changed,--at least not in this, that as I loved -you better than any being in the world,--better even than Laura -there,--so do I love you now infinitely the best of all. Do not look -so surprised at me. You knew it before as well as you do now;--and -Laura knows it. There is no secret to be kept in the matter among us -three." - -"But, Lord Chiltern,--" said Miss Effingham, rising also to her feet, -and then pausing, not knowing how to answer him. There had been a -suddenness in his mode of addressing her which had, so to say, almost -taken away her breath; and then to be told by a man of his love -before his sister was in itself, to her, a matter so surprising, that -none of those words came at her command which will come, as though by -instinct, to young ladies on such occasions. - -"You have known it always," said he, as though he were angry with -her. - -"Lord Chiltern," she replied, "you must excuse me if I say that you -are, at the least, very abrupt. I did not think when I was going back -so joyfully to our childish days that you would turn the tables on me -in this way." - -"He has said nothing that ought to make you angry," said Lady Laura. - -"Only because he has driven me to say that which will make me appear -to be uncivil to himself. Lord Chiltern, I do not love you with that -love of which you are speaking now. As an old friend I have always -regarded you, and I hope that I may always do so." Then she got up -and left the room. - -"Why were you so sudden with her,--so abrupt,--so loud?" said his -sister, coming up to him and taking him by the arm almost in anger. - -"It would make no difference," said he. "She does not care for me." - -"It makes all the difference in the world," said Lady Laura. "Such -a woman as Violet cannot be had after that fashion. You must begin -again." - -"I have begun and ended," he said. - -"That is nonsense. Of course you will persist. It was madness to -speak in that way to-day. You may be sure of this, however, that -there is no one she likes better than you. You must remember that you -have done much to make any girl afraid of you." - -"I do remember it." - -"Do something now to make her fear you no longer. Speak to her -softly. Tell her of the sort of life which you would live with her. -Tell her that all is changed. As she comes to love you, she will -believe you when she would believe no one else on that matter." - -"Am I to tell her a lie?" said Lord Chiltern, looking his sister full -in the face. Then he turned upon his heel and left her. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -Autumnal Prospects - - -The session went on very calmly after the opening battle which ousted -Lord de Terrier and sent Mr. Mildmay back to the Treasury,--so calmly -that Phineas Finn was unconsciously disappointed, as lacking that -excitement of contest to which he had been introduced in the first -days of his parliamentary career. From time to time certain waspish -attacks were made by Mr. Daubeny, now on this Secretary of State and -now on that; but they were felt by both parties to mean nothing; and -as no great measure was brought forward, nothing which would serve -by the magnitude of its interests to divide the liberal side of the -House into fractions, Mr. Mildmay's Cabinet was allowed to hold its -own in comparative peace and quiet. It was now July,--the middle of -July,--and the member for Loughshane had not yet addressed the House. -How often had he meditated doing so; how he had composed his speeches -walking round the Park on his way down to the House; how he got his -subjects up,--only to find on hearing them discussed that he really -knew little or nothing about them; how he had his arguments and -almost his very words taken out of his mouth by some other member; -and lastly, how he had actually been deterred from getting upon his -legs by a certain tremor of blood round his heart when the moment -for rising had come,--of all this he never said a word to any man. -Since that last journey to county Mayo, Laurence Fitzgibbon had been -his most intimate friend, but he said nothing of all this even to -Laurence Fitzgibbon. To his other friend, Lady Laura Standish, he did -explain something of his feelings, not absolutely describing to her -the extent of hindrance to which his modesty had subjected him, but -letting her know that he had his qualms as well as his aspirations. -But as Lady Laura always recommended patience, and more than once -expressed her opinion that a young member would be better to sit -in silence at least for one session, he was not driven to the -mortification of feeling that he was incurring her contempt by his -bashfulness. As regarded the men among whom he lived, I think he was -almost annoyed at finding that no one seemed to expect that he should -speak. Barrington Erle, when he had first talked of sending Phineas -down to Loughshane, had predicted for him all manner of parliamentary -successes, and had expressed the warmest admiration of the manner in -which Phineas had discussed this or that subject at the Union. "We -have not above one or two men in the House who can do that kind of -thing," Barrington Erle had once said. But now no allusions whatever -were made to his powers of speech, and Phineas in his modest moments -began to be more amazed than ever that he should find himself seated -in that chamber. - -To the forms and technicalities of parliamentary business he did give -close attention, and was unremitting in his attendance. On one or two -occasions he ventured to ask a question of the Speaker, and as the -words of experience fell into his ears, he would tell himself that -he was going through his education,--that he was learning to be a -working member, and perhaps to be a statesman. But his regrets with -reference to Mr. Low and the dingy chambers in Old Square were very -frequent; and had it been possible for him to undo all that he had -done, he would often have abandoned to some one else the honour of -representing the electors of Loughshane. - -But he was supported in all his difficulties by the kindness of his -friend, Lady Laura Standish. He was often in the house in Portman -Square, and was always received with cordiality, and, as he thought, -almost with affection. She would sit and talk to him, sometimes -saying a word about her brother and sometimes about her father, as -though there were more between them than the casual intimacy of -London acquaintance. And in Portman Square he had been introduced to -Miss Effingham, and had found Miss Effingham to be--very nice. Miss -Effingham had quite taken to him, and he had danced with her at two -or three parties, talking always, as he did so, about Lady Laura -Standish. - -"I declare, Laura, I think your friend Mr. Finn is in love with you," -said Violet to Lady Laura one night. - -"I don't think that. He is fond of me, and so am I of him. He is -so honest, and so naive without being awkward! And then he is -undoubtedly clever." - -"And so uncommonly handsome," said Violet. - -"I don't know that that makes much difference," said Lady Laura. - -"I think it does if a man looks like a gentleman as well." - -"Mr. Finn certainly looks like a gentleman," said Lady Laura. - -"And no doubt is one," said Violet. "I wonder whether he has got any -money." - -"Not a penny, I should say." - -"How does such a man manage to live? There are so many men like that, -and they are always mysteries to me. I suppose he'll have to marry an -heiress." - -"Whoever gets him will not have a bad husband," said Lady Laura -Standish. - -Phineas during the summer had very often met Mr. Kennedy. They sat -on the same side of the House, they belonged to the same club, they -dined together more than once in Portman Square, and on one occasion -Phineas had accepted an invitation to dinner sent to him by Mr. -Kennedy himself. "A slower affair I never saw in my life," he said -afterwards to Laurence Fitzgibbon. "Though there were two or three -men there who talk everywhere else, they could not talk at his -table." "He gave you good wine, I should say," said Fitzgibbon, "and -let me tell you that that covers a multitude of sins." In spite, -however, of all these opportunities for intimacy, now, nearly at -the end of the session, Phineas had hardly spoken a dozen words to -Mr. Kennedy, and really knew nothing whatsoever of the man, as one -friend,--or even as one acquaintance knows another. Lady Laura had -desired him to be on good terms with Mr. Kennedy, and for that reason -he had dined with him. Nevertheless he disliked Mr. Kennedy, and felt -quite sure that Mr. Kennedy disliked him. He was therefore rather -surprised when he received the following note:-- - - - Albany, Z 3, July 17, 186--. - - MY DEAR MR. FINN, - - I shall have some friends at Loughlinter next month, and - should be very glad if you will join us. I will name the - 16th August. I don't know whether you shoot, but there are - grouse and deer. - - Yours truly, - - ROBERT KENNEDY. - - -What was he to do? He had already begun to feel rather uncomfortable -at the prospect of being separated from all his new friends as soon -as the session should be over. Laurence Fitzgibhon had asked him to -make another visit to county Mayo, but that he had declined. Lady -Laura had said something to him about going abroad with her brother, -and since that there had sprung up a sort of intimacy between him and -Lord Chiltern; but nothing had been fixed about this foreign trip, -and there were pecuniary objections to it which put it almost out of -his power. The Christmas holidays he would of course pass with his -family at Killaloe, but he hardly liked the idea of hurrying off to -Killaloe immediately the session should be over. Everybody around -him seemed to be looking forward to pleasant leisure doings in the -country. Men talked about grouse, and of the ladies at the houses to -which they were going and of the people whom they were to meet. Lady -Laura had said nothing of her own movements for the early autumn, and -no invitation had come to him to go to the Earl's country house. He -had already felt that every one would depart and that he would be -left,--and this had made him uncomfortable. What was he to do with -the invitation from Mr. Kennedy? He disliked the man, and had told -himself half a dozen times that he despised him. Of course he must -refuse it. Even for the sake of the scenery, and the grouse, and the -pleasant party, and the feeling that going to Loughlinter in August -would be the proper sort of thing to do, he must refuse it! But it -occurred to him at last that he would call in Portman Square before -he wrote his note. - -"Of course you will go," said Lady Laura, in her most decided tone. - -"And why?" - -"In the first place it is civil in him to ask you, and why should you -be uncivil in return?" - -"There is nothing uncivil in not accepting a man's invitation," said -Phineas. - -"We are going," said Lady Laura, "and I can only say that I shall be -disappointed if you do not go too. Both Mr. Gresham and Mr. Monk will -be there, and I believe they have never stayed together in the same -house before. I have no doubt there are a dozen men on your side of -the House who would give their eyes to be there. Of course you will -go." - -Of course he did go. The note accepting Mr. Kennedy's invitation was -written at the Reform Club within a quarter of an hour of his leaving -Portman Square. He was very careful in writing to be not more -familiar or more civil than Mr. Kennedy had been to himself, and -then he signed himself "Yours truly, Phineas Finn." But another -proposition was made to him, and a most charming proposition, during -the few minutes that he remained in Portman Square. "I am so glad," -said Lady Laura, "because I can now ask you to run down to us at -Saulsby for a couple of days on your way to Loughlinter. Till this -was fixed I couldn't ask you to come all the way to Saulsby for two -days; and there won't be room for more between our leaving London -and starting to Loughlinter." Phineas swore that he would have gone -if it had been but for one hour, and if Saulsby had been twice the -distance. "Very well; come on the 13th and go on the 15th. You must -go on the 15th, unless you choose to stay with the housekeeper. -And remember, Mr. Finn, we have got no grouse at Saulsby." Phineas -declared that he did not care a straw for grouse. - -There was another little occurrence which happened before Phineas -left London, and which was not altogether so charming as his -prospects at Saulsby and Loughlinter. Early in August, when the -session was still incomplete, he dined with Laurence Fitzgibbon at -the Reform Club. Laurence had specially invited him to do so, and -made very much of him on the occasion. "By George, my dear fellow," -Laurence said to him that morning, "nothing has happened to me this -session that has given me so much pleasure as your being in the -House. Of course there are fellows with whom one is very intimate and -of whom one is very fond,--and all that sort of thing. But most of -these Englishmen on our side are such cold fellows; or else they are -like Ratler and Barrington Erle, thinking of nothing but politics. -And then as to our own men, there are so many of them one can hardly -trust! That's the truth of it. Your being in the House has been such -a comfort to me!" Phineas, who really liked his friend Laurence, -expressed himself very warmly in answer to this, and became -affectionate, and made sundry protestations of friendship which were -perfectly sincere. Their sincerity was tested after dinner, when -Fitzgibbon, as they two were seated on a sofa in the corner of the -smoking-room, asked Phineas to put his name to the back of a bill for -two hundred and fifty pounds at six months' date. - -"But, my dear Laurence," said Phineas, "two hundred and fifty pounds -is a sum of money utterly beyond my reach." - -"Exactly, my dear boy, and that's why I've come to you. D'ye think -I'd have asked anybody who by any impossibility might have been made -to pay anything for me?" - -"But what's the use of it then?" - -"All the use in the world. It's for me to judge of the use, you know. -Why, d'ye think I'd ask it if it wasn't any use? I'll make it of use, -my boy. And take my word, you'll never hear about it again. It's just -a forestalling of my salary; that's all. I wouldn't do it till I saw -that we were at least safe for six months to come." Then Phineas Finn -with many misgivings, with much inward hatred of himself for his own -weakness, did put his name on the back of the bill which Laurence -Fitzgibbon had prepared for his signature. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -Saulsby Wood - - -"So you won't come to Moydrum again?" said Laurence Fitzgibbon to his -friend. - -"Not this autumn, Laurence. Your father would think that I want to -live there." - -"Bedad, it's my father would be glad to see you,--and the oftener the -better." - -"The fact is, my time is filled up." - -"You're not going to be one of the party at Loughlinter?" - -"I believe I am. Kennedy asked me, and people seem to think that -everybody is to do what he bids them." - -"I should think so too. I wish he had asked me. I should have thought -it as good as a promise of an under-secretaryship. All the Cabinet -are to be there. I don't suppose he ever had an Irishman in his house -before. When do you start?" - -"Well;--on the 12th or 13th. I believe I shall go to Saulsby on my -way." - -"The devil you will. Upon my word, Phineas, my boy, you're the -luckiest fellow I know. This is your first year, and you're asked to -the two most difficult houses in England. You have only to look out -for an heiress now. There is little Vi Effingham;--she is sure to be -at Saulsby. Good-bye, old fellow. Don't you be in the least unhappy -about the bill. I'll see to making that all right." - -Phineas was rather unhappy about the bill; but there was so much that -was pleasant in his cup at the present moment, that he resolved, as -far as possible, to ignore the bitter of that one ingredient. He was -a little in the dark as to two or three matters respecting these -coming visits. He would have liked to have taken a servant with him; -but he had no servant, and felt ashamed to hire one for the occasion. -And then he was in trouble about a gun, and the paraphernalia of -shooting. He was not a bad shot at snipe in the bogs of county Clare, -but he had never even seen a gun used in England. However, he bought -himself a gun,--with other paraphernalia, and took a license for -himself, and then groaned over the expense to which he found that his -journey would subject him. And at last he hired a servant for the -occasion. He was intensely ashamed of himself when he had done so, -hating himself, and telling himself that he was going to the devil -headlong. And why had he done it? Not that Lady Laura would like him -the better, or that she would care whether he had a servant or not. -She probably would know nothing of his servant. But the people about -her would know, and he was foolishly anxious that the people about -her should think that he was worthy of her. - -Then he called on Mr. Low before he started. "I did not like to leave -London without seeing you," he said; "but I know you will have -nothing pleasant to say to me." - -"I shall say nothing unpleasant certainly. I see your name in the -divisions, and I feel a sort of envy myself." - -"Any fool could go into a lobby," said Phineas. - -"To tell you the truth, I have been gratified to see that you have -had the patience to abstain from speaking till you had looked about -you. It was more than I expected from your hot Irish blood. Going -to meet Mr. Gresham and Mr. Monk,--are you? Well, I hope you may -meet them in the Cabinet some day. Mind you come and see me when -Parliament meets in February." - -Mrs. Bunce was delighted when she found that Phineas had hired a -servant; but Mr. Bunce predicted nothing but evil from so vain an -expense. "Don't tell me; where is it to come from? He ain't no -richer because he's in Parliament. There ain't no wages. M.P. and -M.T.,"--whereby Mr. Bunce, I fear, meant empty,--"are pretty much -alike when a man hasn't a fortune at his back." "But he's going to -stay with all the lords in the Cabinet," said Mrs. Bunce, to whom -Phineas, in his pride, had confided perhaps more than was necessary. -"Cabinet, indeed," said Bunce; "if he'd stick to chambers, and let -alone cabinets, he'd do a deal better. Given up his rooms, has -he,--till February? He don't expect we're going to keep them empty -for him!" - -Phineas found that the house was full at Saulsby, although the -sojourn of the visitors would necessarily be so short. There -were three or four there on their way on to Loughlinter, like -himself,--Mr. Bonteen and Mr. Ratler, with Mr. Palliser, the -Chancellor of the Exchequer, and his wife,--and there was Violet -Effingham, who, however, was not going to Loughlinter. "No, indeed," -she said to our hero, who on the first evening had the pleasure -of taking her in to dinner, "unfortunately I haven't a seat in -Parliament, and therefore I am not asked." - -"Lady Laura is going." - -"Yes;--but Lady Laura has a Cabinet Minister in her keeping. I've -only one comfort;--you'll be awfully dull." - -"I daresay it would be very much nicer to stay here," said Phineas. - -"If you want to know my real mind," said Violet, "I would give one of -my little fingers to go. There will be four Cabinet Ministers in the -house, and four un-Cabinet Ministers, and half a dozen other members -of Parliament, and there will be Lady Glencora Palliser, who is the -best fun in the world; and, in point of fact, it's the thing of the -year. But I am not asked. You see I belong to the Baldock faction, -and we don't sit on your side of the House. Mr. Kennedy thinks that I -should tell secrets." - -Why on earth had Mr. Kennedy invited him, Phineas Finn, to meet four -Cabinet Ministers and Lady Glencora Palliser? He could only have done -so at the instance of Lady Laura Standish. It was delightful for -Phineas to think that Lady Laura cared for him so deeply; but it was -not equally delightful when he remembered how very close must be -the alliance between Mr. Kennedy and Lady Laura, when she was thus -powerful with him. - -At Saulsby Phineas did not see much of his hostess. When they were -making their plans for the one entire day of this visit, she said a -soft word of apology to him. "I am so busy with all these people, -that I hardly know what I am doing. But we shall be able to find a -quiet minute or two at Loughlinter,--unless, indeed, you intend to -be on the mountains all day. I suppose you have brought a gun like -everybody else?" - -"Yes;--I have brought a gun. I do shoot; but I am not an inveterate -sportsman." - -On that one day there was a great riding party made up, and Phineas -found himself mounted, after luncheon, with some dozen other -equestrians. Among them were Miss Effingham and Lady Glencora, Mr. -Ratler and the Earl of Brentford himself. Lady Glencora, whose -husband was, as has been said, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and who -was still a young woman, and a very pretty woman, had taken lately -very strongly to politics, which she discussed among men and women -of both parties with something more than ordinary audacity. "What a -nice, happy, lazy time you've had of it since you've been in," said -she to the Earl. - -"I hope we have been more happy than lazy," said the Earl. - -"But you've done nothing. Mr. Palliser has twenty schemes of reform, -all mature; but among you you've not let him bring in one of them. -The Duke and Mr. Mildmay and you will break his heart among you." - -"Poor Mr. Palliser!" - -"The truth is, if you don't take care he and Mr. Monk and Mr. Gresham -will arise and shake themselves, and turn you all out." - -"We must look to ourselves, Lady Glencora." - -"Indeed, yes;--or you will be known to all posterity as the faineant -government." - -"Let me tell you, Lady Glencora, that a faineant government is not -the worst government that England can have. It has been the great -fault of our politicians that they have all wanted to do something." - -"Mr. Mildmay is at any rate innocent of that charge," said Lady -Glencora. - -They were now riding through a vast wood, and Phineas found himself -delightfully established by the side of Violet Effingham. "Mr. Ratler -has been explaining to me that he must have nineteen next session. -Now, if I were you, Mr. Finn, I would decline to be counted up in -that way as one of Mr. Ratler's sheep." - -"But what am I to do?" - -"Do something on your own hook. You men in Parliament are so much -like sheep! If one jumps at a gap, all go after him,--and then you -are penned into lobbies, and then you are fed, and then you are -fleeced. I wish I were in Parliament. I'd get up in the middle and -make such a speech. You all seem to me to be so much afraid of one -another that you don't quite dare to speak out. Do you see that -cottage there?" - -"What a pretty cottage it is!" - -"Yes;--is it not? Twelve years ago I took off my shoes and stockings -and had them dried in that cottage, and when I got back to the house -I was put to bed for having been out all day in the wood." - -"Were you wandering about alone?" - -"No, I wasn't alone. Oswald Standish was with me. We were children -then. Do you know him?" - -"Lord Chiltern;--yes, I know him. He and I have been rather friends -this year." - -"He is very good;--is he not?" - -"Good,--in what way?" - -"Honest and generous!" - -"I know no man whom I believe to be more so." - -"And he is clever?" asked Miss Effingham. - -"Very clever. That is, he talks very well if you will let him talk -after his own fashion. You would always fancy that he was going to -eat you;--but that is his way." - -"And you like him?" - -"Very much." - -"I am so glad to hear you say so." - -"Is he a favourite of yours, Miss Effingham?" - -"Not now,--not particularly. I hardly ever see him. But his sister is -the best friend I have, and I used to like him so much when he was a -boy! I have not seen that cottage since that day, and I remember it -as though it were yesterday. Lord Chiltern is quite changed, is he -not?" - -"Changed,--in what way?" - -"They used to say that he was--unsteady you know." - -"I think he is changed. But Chiltern is at heart a Bohemian. It is -impossible not to see that at once. He hates the decencies of life." - -"I suppose he does," said Violet. "He ought to marry. If he were -married, that would all be cured;--don't you think so?" - -"I cannot fancy him with a wife," said Phineas, "There is a savagery -about him which would make him an uncomfortable companion for a -woman." - -"But he would love his wife?" - -"Yes, as he does his horses. And he would treat her well,--as he does -his horses. But he expects every horse he has to do anything that any -horse can do; and he would expect the same of his wife." - -Phineas had no idea how deep an injury he might be doing his friend -by this description, nor did it once occur to him that his companion -was thinking of herself as the possible wife of this Red Indian. Miss -Effingham rode on in silence for some distance, and then she said -but one word more about Lord Chiltern. "He was so good to me in that -cottage." - -On the following day the party at Saulsby was broken up, and there -was a regular pilgrimage towards Loughlinter. Phineas resolved upon -sleeping a night at Edinburgh on his way, and he found himself joined -in the bands of close companionship with Mr. Ratler for the occasion. -The evening was by no means thrown away, for he learned much of his -trade from Mr. Ratler. And Mr. Ratler was heard to declare afterwards -at Loughlinter that Mr. Finn was a pleasant young man. - -It soon came to be admitted by all who knew Phineas Finn that he had -a peculiar power of making himself agreeable which no one knew how to -analyse or define. "I think it is because he listens so well," said -one man. "But the women would not like him for that," said another. -"He has studied when to listen and when to talk," said a third. The -truth, however, was, that Phineas Finn had made no study in the -matter at all. It was simply his nature to be pleasant. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -Loughlinter - - -Phineas Finn reached Loughlinter together with Mr. Ratler in a -post-chaise from the neighbouring town. Mr. Ratler, who had done this -kind of thing very often before, travelled without impediments, but -the new servant of our hero's was stuck outside with the driver, and -was in the way. "I never bring a man with me," said Mr. Ratler to his -young friend. "The servants of the house like it much better, because -they get fee'd; you are just as well waited on, and it don't cost -half as much." Phineas blushed as he heard all this; but there was -the impediment, not to be got rid of for the nonce, and Phineas made -the best of his attendant. "It's one of those points," said he, "as -to which a man never quite makes up his mind. If you bring a fellow, -you wish you hadn't brought him; and if you don't, you wish you had." -"I'm a great deal more decided in my ways that that," said Mr. -Ratler. - -Loughlinter, as they approached it, seemed to Phineas to be a much -finer place than Saulsby. And so it was, except that Loughlinter -wanted that graceful beauty of age which Saulsby possessed. -Loughlinter was all of cut stone, but the stones had been cut only -yesterday. It stood on a gentle slope, with a greensward falling from -the front entrance down to a mountain lake. And on the other side of -the Lough there rose a mighty mountain to the skies, Ben Linter. At -the foot of it, and all round to the left, there ran the woods of -Linter, stretching for miles through crags and bogs and mountain -lands. No better ground for deer than the side of Ben Linter was -there in all those highlands. And the Linter, rushing down into the -Lough through rocks which, in some places, almost met together above -its waters, ran so near to the house that the pleasant noise of its -cataracts could be heard from the hall door. Behind the house the -expanse of drained park land seemed to be interminable; and then, -again, came the mountains. There were Ben Linn and Ben Lody;--and -the whole territory belonging to Mr. Kennedy. He was laird of Linn -and laird of Linter, as his people used to say. And yet his father -had walked into Glasgow as a little boy,--no doubt with the normal -half-crown in his breeches pocket. - -"Magnificent;--is it not?" said Phineas to the Treasury Secretary, -as they were being driven up to the door. - -"Very grand;--but the young trees show the new man. A new man may buy -a forest; but he can't get park trees." - -Phineas, at the moment, was thinking how far all these things which -he saw, the mountains stretching everywhere around him, the castle, -the lake, the river, the wealth of it all, and, more than the wealth, -the nobility of the beauty, might act as temptations to Lady Laura -Standish. If a woman were asked to have the half of all this, would -it be possible that she should prefer to take the half of his -nothing? He thought it might be possible for a girl who would -confess, or seem to confess, that love should be everything. But it -could hardly be possible for a woman who looked at the world almost -as a man looked at it,--as an oyster to be opened with such weapon -as she could find ready to her hand. Lady Laura professed to have a -care for all the affairs of the world. She loved politics, and could -talk of social science, and had broad ideas about religion, and was -devoted to certain educational views. Such a woman would feel that -wealth was necessary to her, and would be willing, for the sake of -wealth, to put up with a husband without romance. Nay; might it not -be that she would prefer a husband without romance? Thus Phineas was -arguing to himself as he was driven up to the door of Loughlinter -Castle, while Mr. Ratler was eloquent on the beauty of old park -trees. "After all, a Scotch forest is a very scrubby sort of thing," -said Mr. Ratler. - -There was nobody in the house,--at least, they found nobody; and -within half an hour Phineas was walking about the grounds by himself. -Mr. Ratler had declared himself to be delighted at having an -opportunity of writing letters,--and no doubt was writing them by -the dozen, all dated from Loughlinter, and all detailing the facts -that Mr. Gresham, and Mr. Monk, and Plantagenet Palliser, and Lord -Brentford were in the same house with him. Phineas had no letters to -write, and therefore rushed down across the broad lawn to the river, -of which he heard the noisy tumbling waters. There was something in -the air which immediately filled him with high spirits; and, in his -desire to investigate the glories of the place, he forgot that he was -going to dine with four Cabinet Ministers in a row. He soon reached -the stream, and began to make his way up it through the ravine. There -was waterfall over waterfall, and there were little bridges here and -there which looked to be half natural and half artificial, and a path -which required that you should climb, but which was yet a path, and -all was so arranged that not a pleasant splashing rush of the waters -was lost to the visitor. He went on and on, up the stream, till there -was a sharp turn in the ravine, and then, looking upwards, he saw -above his head a man and a woman standing together on one of the -little half-made wooden bridges. His eyes were sharp, and he saw at a -glance that the woman was Lady Laura Standish. He had not recognised -the man, but he had very little doubt that it was Mr. Kennedy. Of -course it was Mr. Kennedy, because he would prefer that it should be -any other man under the sun. He would have turned back at once if he -had thought that he could have done so without being observed; but he -felt sure that, standing as they were, they must have observed him. -He did not like to join them. He would not intrude himself. So he -remained still, and began to throw stones into the river. But he had -not thrown above a stone or two when he was called from above. He -looked up, and then he perceived that the man who called him was his -host. Of course it was Mr. Kennedy. Thereupon he ceased to throw -stones, and went up the path, and joined them upon the bridge. Mr. -Kennedy stepped forward, and bade him welcome to Loughlinter. His -manner was less cold, and he seemed to have more words at command -than was usual with him. "You have not been long," he said, "in -finding out the most beautiful spot about the place." - -"Is it not lovely?" said Laura. "We have not been here an hour yet, -and Mr. Kennedy insisted on bringing me here." - -"It is wonderfully beautiful," said Phineas. - -"It is this very spot where we now stand that made me build the house -where it is," said Mr. Kennedy, "and I was only eighteen when I stood -here and made up my mind. That is just twenty-five years ago." "So he -is forty-three," said Phineas to himself, thinking how glorious it -was to be only twenty-five. "And within twelve months," continued Mr. -Kennedy, "the foundations were being dug and the stone-cutters were -at work." - -"What a good-natured man your father must have been," said Lady -Laura. - -"He had nothing else to do with his money but to pour it over my -head, as it were. I don't think he had any other enjoyment of it -himself. Will you go a little higher, Lady Laura? We shall get a fine -view over to Ben Linn just now." Lady Laura declared that she would -go as much higher as he chose to take her, and Phineas was rather in -doubt as to what it would become him to do. He would stay where he -was, or go down, or make himself to vanish after any most acceptable -fashion; but if he were to do so abruptly it would seem as though he -were attributing something special to the companionship of the other -two. Mr. Kennedy saw his doubt, and asked him to join them. "You may -as well come on, Mr. Finn. We don't dine till eight, and it is not -much past six yet. The men of business are all writing letters, and -the ladies who have been travelling are in bed, I believe." - -"Not all of them, Mr. Kennedy," said Lady Laura. Then they went -on with their walk very pleasantly, and the lord of all that they -surveyed took them from one point of vantage to another, till they -both swore that of all spots upon the earth Loughlinter was surely -the most lovely. "I do delight in it, I own," said the lord. "When -I come up here alone, and feel that in the midst of this little bit -of a crowded island I have all this to myself,--all this with which -no other man's wealth can interfere,--I grow proud of my own, till -I become thoroughly ashamed of myself. After all, I believe it is -better to dwell in cities than in the country,--better, at any rate, -for a rich man." Mr. Kennedy had now spoken more words than Phineas -had heard to fall from his lips during the whole time that they had -been acquainted with each other. - -"I believe so too," said Laura, "if one were obliged to choose -between the two. For myself, I think that a little of both is good -for man and woman." - -"There is no doubt about that," said Phineas. - -"No doubt as far as enjoyment goes," said Mr. Kennedy. - -He took them up out of the ravine on to the side of the mountain, and -then down by another path through the woods to the back of the house. -As they went he relapsed into his usual silence, and the conversation -was kept up between the other two. At a point not very far from the -castle,--just so far that one could see by the break of the ground -where the castle stood, Kennedy left them. "Mr. Finn will take you -back in safety, I am sure," said he, "and, as I am here, I'll go up -to the farm for a moment. If I don't show myself now and again when I -am here, they think I'm indifferent about the 'bestials'." - -"Now, Mr. Kennedy," said Lady Laura, "you are going to pretend to -understand all about sheep and oxen." Mr. Kennedy, owning that it -was so, went away to his farm, and Phineas with Lady Laura returned -towards the house. "I think, upon the whole," said Lady Laura, "that -that is as good a man as I know." - -"I should think he is an idle one," said Phineas. - -"I doubt that. He is, perhaps, neither zealous nor active. But he is -thoughtful and high-principled, and has a method and a purpose in the -use which he makes of his money. And you see that he has poetry in -his nature too, if you get him upon the right string. How fond he is -of the scenery of this place!" - -"Any man would be fond of that. I'm ashamed to say that it almost -makes me envy him. I certainly never have wished to be Mr. Robert -Kennedy in London, but I should like to be the Laird of Loughlinter." - -"'Laird of Linn and Laird of Linter,--Here in summer, gone in -winter.' There is some ballad about the old lairds; but that belongs -to a time when Mr. Kennedy had not been heard of, when some branch of -the Mackenzies lived down at that wretched old tower which you see as -you first come upon the lake. When old Mr. Kennedy bought it there -were hardly a hundred acres on the property under cultivation." - -"And it belonged to the Mackenzies." - -"Yes;--to the Mackenzie of Linn, as he was called. It was Mr. -Kennedy, the old man, who was first called Loughlinter. That is -Linn Castle, and they lived there for hundreds of years. But these -Highlanders, with all that is said of their family pride, have -forgotten the Mackenzies already, and are quite proud of their rich -landlord." - -"That is unpoetical," said Phineas. - -"Yes;--but then poetry is so usually false. I doubt whether Scotland -would not have been as prosaic a country as any under the sun but for -Walter Scott;--and I have no doubt that Henry V owes the romance of -his character altogether to Shakspeare." - -"I sometimes think you despise poetry," said Phineas. - -"When it is false I do. The difficulty is to know when it is false -and when it is true. Tom Moore was always false." - -"Not so false as Byron," said Phineas with energy. - -"Much more so, my friend. But we will not discuss that now. Have you -seen Mr. Monk since you have been here?" - -"I have seen no one. I came with Mr. Ratler." - -"Why with Mr. Ratler? You cannot find Mr. Ratler a companion much to -your taste." - -"Chance brought us together. But Mr. Ratler is a man of sense, Lady -Laura, and is not to be despised." - -"It always seems to me," said Lady Laura, "that nothing is to be -gained in politics by sitting at the feet of the little Gamaliels." - -"But the great Gamaliels will not have a novice on their footstools." - -"Then sit at no man's feet. Is it not astonishing that the price -generally put upon any article by the world is that which the owner -puts on it?--and that this is specially true of a man's own self? If -you herd with Ratler, men will take it for granted that you are a -Ratlerite, and no more. If you consort with Greshams and Pallisers, -you will equally be supposed to know your own place." - -"I never knew a Mentor," said Phineas, "so apt as you are to fill his -Telemachus with pride." - -"It is because I do not think your fault lies that way. If it did, -or if I thought so, my Telemachus, you may be sure that I should -resign my position as Mentor. Here are Mr. Kennedy and Lady Glencora -and Mrs. Gresham on the steps." Then they went up through the Ionic -columns on to the broad stone terrace before the door, and there they -found a crowd of men and women. For the legislators and statesmen had -written their letters, and the ladies had taken their necessary rest. - -Phineas, as he was dressing, considered deeply all that Lady Laura -had said to him,--not so much with reference to the advice which she -had given him, though that also was of importance, as to the fact -that it had been given by her. She had first called herself his -Mentor; but he had accepted the name and had addressed her as her -Telemachus. And yet he believed himself to be older than she,--if, -indeed, there was any difference in their ages. And was it possible -that a female Mentor should love her Telemachus,--should love him as -Phineas desired to be loved by Lady Laura? He would not say that it -was impossible. Perhaps there had been mistakes between them;--a -mistake in his manner of addressing her, and another in hers of -addressing him. Perhaps the old bachelor of forty-three was not -thinking of a wife. Had this old bachelor of forty-three been really -in love with Lady Laura, would he have allowed her to walk home alone -with Phineas, leaving her with some flimsy pretext of having to look -at his sheep? Phineas resolved that he must at any rate play out his -game,--whether he were to lose it or to win it; and in playing it he -must, if possible, drop something of that Mentor and Telemachus style -of conversation. As to the advice given him of herding with Greshams -and Pallisers, instead of with Ratlers and Fitzgibbons,--he must use -that as circumstances might direct. To him, himself, as he thought -of it all, it was sufficiently astonishing that even the Ratlers and -Fitzgibbons should admit him among them as one of themselves. "When -I think of my father and of the old house at Killaloe, and remember -that hitherto I have done nothing myself, I cannot understand how -it is that I should be at Loughlinter." There was only one way of -understanding it. If Lady Laura really loved him, the riddle might -be read. - -The rooms at Loughlinter were splendid, much larger and very much -more richly furnished than those at Saulsby. But there was a certain -stiffness in the movement of things, and perhaps in the manner of -some of those present, which was not felt at Saulsby. Phineas at -once missed the grace and prettiness and cheery audacity of Violet -Effingham, and felt at the same time that Violet Effingham would be -out of her element at Loughlinter. At Loughlinter they were met for -business. It was at least a semi-political, or perhaps rather a -semi-official gathering, and he became aware that he ought not to -look simply for amusement. When he entered the drawing-room before -dinner, Mr. Monk and Mr. Palliser, and Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Gresham, -with sundry others, were standing in a wide group before the -fireplace, and among them were Lady Glencora Palliser and Lady Laura -and Mrs. Bonteen. As he approached them it seemed as though a sort -of opening was made for himself; but he could see, though others did -not, that the movement came from Lady Laura. - -"I believe, Mr. Monk," said Lady Glencora, "that you and I are the -only two in the whole party who really know what we would be at." - -"If I must be divided from so many of my friends," said Mr. Monk, "I -am happy to go astray in the company of Lady Glencora Palliser." - -"And might I ask," said Mr. Gresham, with a peculiar smile for which -he was famous, "what it is that you and Mr. Monk are really at?" - -"Making men and women all equal," said Lady Glencora. "That I take to -be the gist of our political theory." - -"Lady Glencora, I must cry off," said Mr. Monk. - -"Yes;--no doubt. If I were in the Cabinet myself I should not admit -so much. There are reticences,--of course. And there is an official -discretion." - -"But you don't mean to say, Lady Glencora, that you would really -advocate equality?" said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"I do mean to say so, Mrs. Bonteen. And I mean to go further, and to -tell you that you are no Liberal at heart unless you do so likewise; -unless that is the basis of your political aspirations." - -"Pray let me speak for myself, Lady Glencora." - -"By no means,--not when you are criticising me and my politics. Do -you not wish to make the lower orders comfortable?" - -"Certainly," said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"And educated, and happy and good?" - -"Undoubtedly." - -"To make them as comfortable and as good as yourself?" - -"Better if possible." - -"And I'm sure you wish to make yourself as good and as comfortable as -anybody else,--as those above you, if anybody is above you? You will -admit that?" - -"Yes;--if I understand you." - -"Then you have admitted everything, and are an advocate for general -equality,--just as Mr. Monk is, and as I am. There is no getting out -of it;--is there, Mr. Kennedy?" Then dinner was announced, and Mr. -Kennedy walked off with the French Republican on his arm. As she -went, she whispered into Mr. Kennedy's ear, "You will understand -me. I am not saying that people are equal; but that the tendency -of all law-making and of all governing should be to reduce the -inequalities." In answer to which Mr. Kennedy said not a word. Lady -Glencora's politics were too fast and furious for his nature. - -A week passed by at Loughlinter, at the end of which Phineas found -himself on terms of friendly intercourse with all the political -magnates assembled in the house, but especially with Mr. Monk. He had -determined that he would not follow Lady Laura's advice as to his -selection of companions, if in doing so he should be driven even to -a seeming of intrusion. He made no attempt to sit at the feet of -anybody, and would stand aloof when bigger men than himself were -talking, and was content to be less,--as indeed he was less,--than -Mr. Bonteen or Mr. Ratler. But at the end of a week he found that, -without any effort on his part,--almost in opposition to efforts on -his part,--he had fallen into an easy pleasant way with these men -which was very delightful to him. He had killed a stag in company -with Mr. Palliser, and had stopped beneath a crag to discuss with him -a question as to the duty on Irish malt. He had played chess with Mr. -Gresham, and had been told that gentleman's opinion on the trial of -Mr. Jefferson Davis. Lord Brentford had--at last--called him Finn, -and had proved to him that nothing was known in Ireland about sheep. -But with Mr. Monk he had had long discussions on abstract questions -in politics,--and before the week was over was almost disposed to -call himself a disciple, or, at least, a follower of Mr. Monk. Why -not of Mr. Monk as well as of any one else? Mr. Monk was in the -Cabinet, and of all the members of the Cabinet was the most advanced -Liberal. "Lady Glencora was not so far wrong the other night," Mr. -Monk said to him. "Equality is an ugly word and shouldn't be used. It -misleads, and frightens, and is a bugbear. And she, in using it, had -not perhaps a clearly defined meaning for it in her own mind. But -the wish of every honest man should be to assist in lifting up those -below him, till they be something nearer his own level than he finds -them." To this Phineas assented,--and by degrees he found himself -assenting to a great many things that Mr. Monk said to him. - -Mr. Monk was a thin, tall, gaunt man, who had devoted his whole life -to politics, hitherto without any personal reward beyond that which -came to him from the reputation of his name, and from the honour of -a seat in Parliament. He was one of four or five brothers,--and all -besides him were in trade. They had prospered in trade, whereas he -had prospered solely in politics; and men said that he was dependent -altogether on what his relatives supplied for his support. He had now -been in Parliament for more than twenty years, and had been known not -only as a Radical but as a Democrat. Ten years since, when he had -risen to fame, but not to repute, among the men who then governed -England, nobody dreamed that Joshua Monk would ever be a paid servant -of the Crown. He had inveighed against one minister after another -as though they all deserved impeachment. He had advocated political -doctrines which at that time seemed to be altogether at variance -with any possibility of governing according to English rules of -government. He had been regarded as a pestilent thorn in the sides of -all ministers. But now he was a member of the Cabinet, and those whom -he had terrified in the old days began to find that he was not so -much unlike other men. There are but few horses which you cannot put -into harness, and those of the highest spirit will generally do your -work the best. - -Phineas, who had his eyes about him, thought that he could perceive -that Mr. Palliser did not shoot a deer with Mr. Ratler, and that Mr. -Gresham played no chess with Mr. Bonteen. Bonteen, indeed, was a -noisy pushing man whom nobody seemed to like, and Phineas wondered -why he should be at Loughlinter, and why he should be in office. His -friend Laurence Fitzgibbon had indeed once endeavoured to explain -this. "A man who can vote hard, as I call it; and who will speak a -few words now and then as they're wanted, without any ambition that -way, may always have his price. And if he has a pretty wife into the -bargain, he ought to have a pleasant time of it." Mr. Ratler no doubt -was a very useful man, who thoroughly knew his business; but yet, -as it seemed to Phineas, no very great distinction was shown to -Mr. Ratler at Loughlinter. "If I got as high as that," he said to -himself, "I should think myself a miracle of luck. And yet nobody -seems to think anything of Ratler. It is all nothing unless one can -go to the very top." - -"I believe I did right to accept office," Mr. Monk said to him one -day, as they sat together on a rock close by one of the little -bridges over the Linter. "Indeed, unless a man does so when the bonds -of the office tendered to him are made compatible with his own views, -he declines to proceed on the open path towards the prosecution of -those views. A man who is combating one ministry after another, and -striving to imbue those ministers with his convictions, can hardly -decline to become a minister himself when he finds that those -convictions of his own are henceforth,--or at least for some time to -come,--to be the ministerial convictions of the day. Do you follow -me?" - -"Very clearly," said Phineas. "You would have denied your own -children had you refused." - -"Unless indeed a man were to feel that he was in some way unfitted -for office work. I very nearly provided for myself an escape on that -plea;--but when I came to sift it, I thought that it would be false. -But let me tell you that the delight of political life is altogether -in opposition. Why, it is freedom against slavery, fire against clay, -movement against stagnation! The very inaccuracy which is permitted -to opposition is in itself a charm worth more than all the patronage -and all the prestige of ministerial power. You'll try them both, and -then say if you do not agree with me. Give me the full swing of the -benches below the gangway, where I needed to care for no one, and -could always enjoy myself on my legs as long as I felt that I was -true to those who sent me there! That is all over now. They have got -me into harness, and my shoulders are sore. The oats, however, are of -the best, and the hay is unexceptionable." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -Donald Bean's Pony - - -Phineas liked being told that the pleasures of opposition and the -pleasures of office were both open to him,--and he liked also to -be the chosen receptacle of Mr. Monk's confidence. He had come to -understand that he was expected to remain ten days at Loughlinter, -and that then there was to be a general movement. Since the first day -he had seen but little of Mr. Kennedy, but he had found himself very -frequently with Lady Laura. And then had come up the question of his -projected trip to Paris with Lord Chiltern. He had received a letter -from Lord Chiltern. - - - DEAR FINN, - - Are you going to Paris with me? - - Yours, C. - - -There had been not a word beyond this, and before he answered it he -made up his mind to tell Lady Laura the truth. He could not go to -Paris because he had no money. - -"I've just got that from your brother," said he. - -"How like Oswald. He writes to me perhaps three times in the year, -and his letters are just the same. You will go I hope?" - -"Well;--no." - -"I am sorry for that." - -"I wonder whether I may tell you the real reason, Lady Laura." - -"Nay;--I cannot answer that; but unless it be some political secret -between you and Mr. Monk, I should think you might." - -"I cannot afford to go to Paris this autumn. It seems to be a -shocking admission to make,--though I don't know why it should be." - -"Nor I;--but, Mr. Finn, I like you all the better for making it. I -am very sorry, for Oswald's sake. It's so hard to find any companion -for him whom he would like and whom we,--that is I,--should think -altogether--; you know what I mean, Mr. Finn." - -"Your wish that I should go with him is a great compliment, and I -thoroughly wish that I could do it. As it is, I must go to Killaloe -and retrieve my finances. I daresay, Lady Laura, you can hardly -conceive how very poor a man I am." There was a melancholy tone -about his voice as he said this, which made her think for the moment -whether or no he had been right in going into Parliament, and whether -she had been right in instigating him to do so. But it was too late -to recur to that question now. - -"You must climb into office early, and forego those pleasures of -opposition which are so dear to Mr. Monk," she said, smiling. "After -all, money is an accident which does not count nearly so high as do -some other things. You and Mr. Kennedy have the same enjoyment of -everything around you here." - -"Yes; while it lasts." - -"And Lady Glencora and I stand pretty much on the same footing, in -spite of all her wealth,--except that she is a married woman. I do -not know what she is worth,--something not to be counted; and I am -worth,--just what papa chooses to give me. A ten-pound note at the -present moment I should look upon as great riches." This was the -first time she had ever spoken to him of her own position as regards -money; but he had heard, or thought that he had heard, that she had -been left a fortune altogether independent of her father. - -The last of the ten days had now come, and Phineas was discontented -and almost unhappy. The more he saw of Lady Laura the more he feared -that it was impossible that she should become his wife. And yet from -day to day his intimacy with her became more close. He had never made -love to her, nor could he discover that it was possible for him to -do so. She seemed to be a woman for whom all the ordinary stages of -love-making were quite unsuitable, Of course he could declare his -love and ask her to be his wife on any occasion on which he might -find himself to be alone with her. And on this morning he had made -up his mind that he would do so before the day was over. It might -be possible that she would never speak to him again;--that all the -pleasures and ambitious hopes to which she had introduced him might -be over as soon as that rash word should have been spoken! But, -nevertheless, he would speak it. - -On this day there was to be a grouse-shooting party, and the shooters -were to be out early. It had been talked of for some day or two past, -and Phineas knew that he could not escape it. There had been some -rivalry between him and Mr. Bonteen, and there was to be a sort of -match as to which of the two would kill most birds before lunch. But -there had also been some half promise on Lady Laura's part that she -would walk with him up the Linter and come down upon the lake, taking -an opposite direction from that by which they had returned with Mr. -Kennedy. - -"But you will be shooting all day," she said, when he proposed it to -her as they were starting for the moor. The waggonet that was to take -them was at the door, and she was there to see them start. Her father -was one of the shooting party, and Mr. Kennedy was another. - -"I will undertake to be back in time, if you will not think it too -hot. I shall not see you again till we meet in town next year." - -"Then I certainly will go with you,--that is to say, if you are here. -But you cannot return without the rest of the party, as you are going -so far." - -"I'll get back somehow," said Phineas, who was resolved that a -few miles more or less of mountain should not detain him from the -prosecution of a task so vitally important to him. "If we start at -five that will be early enough." - -"Quite early enough," said Lady Laura. - -Phineas went off to the mountains, and shot his grouse, and won his -match, and eat his luncheon. Mr. Bonteen, however, was not beaten by -much, and was in consequence somewhat ill-humoured. - -"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Mr. Bonteen, "I'll back myself for -the rest of the day for a ten-pound note." - -Now there had been no money staked on the match at all,--but it had -been simply a trial of skill, as to which would kill the most birds -in a given time. And the proposition for that trial had come from Mr. -Bonteen himself. "I should not think of shooting for money," said -Phineas. - -"And why not? A bet is the only way to decide these things." - -"Partly because I'm sure I shouldn't hit a bird," said Phineas, "and -partly because I haven't got any money to lose." - -"I hate bets," said Mr. Kennedy to him afterwards. "I was annoyed -when Bonteen offered the wager. I felt sure, however, you would not -accept it." - -"I suppose such bets are very common." - -"I don't think men ought to propose them unless they are quite -sure of their company. Maybe I'm wrong, and I often feel that I am -strait-laced about such things. It is so odd to me that men cannot -amuse themselves without pitting themselves against each other. When -a man tells me that he can shoot better than I, I tell him that my -keeper can shoot better than he." - -"All the same, it's a good thing to excel," said Phineas. - -"I'm not so sure of that," said Mr. Kennedy. "A man who can kill more -salmon than anybody else, can rarely do anything else. Are you going -on with your match?" - -"No; I'm going to make my way to Loughlinter." - -"Not alone?" - -"Yes, alone." - -"It's over nine miles. You can't walk it." - -Phineas looked at his watch, and found that it was now two o'clock. -It was a broiling day in August, and the way back to Loughlinter, for -six or seven out of the nine miles, would be along a high road. "I -must do it all the same," said he, preparing for a start. "I have an -engagement with Lady Laura Standish; and as this is the last day that -I shall see her, I certainly do not mean to break it." - -"An engagement with Lady Laura," said Mr. Kennedy. "Why did you not -tell me, that I might have a pony ready? But come along. Donald Bean -has a pony. He's not much bigger than a dog, but he'll carry you to -Loughlinter." - -"I can walk it, Mr. Kennedy." - -"Yes; and think of the state in which you'd reach Loughlinter! Come -along with me." - -"But I can't take you off the mountain," said Phineas. - -"Then you must allow me to take you off." - -So Mr. Kennedy led the way down to Donald Bean's cottage, and before -three o'clock Phineas found himself mounted on a shaggy steed, which, -in sober truth, was not much bigger than a large dog. "If Mr. Kennedy -is really my rival," said Phineas to himself, as he trotted along, "I -almost think that I am doing an unhandsome thing in taking the pony." - -At five o'clock he was under the portico before the front door, and -there he found Lady Laura waiting for him,--waiting for him, or at -least ready for him. She had on her hat and gloves and light shawl, -and her parasol was in her hand. He thought that he had never seen -her look so young, so pretty, and so fit to receive a lover's vows. -But at the same moment it occurred to him that she was Lady Laura -Standish, the daughter of an Earl, the descendant of a line of -Earls,--and that he was the son of a simple country doctor in -Ireland. Was it fitting that he should ask such a woman to be his -wife? But then Mr. Kennedy was the son of a man who had walked into -Glasgow with half-a-crown in his pocket. Mr. Kennedy's grandfather -had been,--Phineas thought that he had heard that Mr. Kennedy's -grandfather had been a Scotch drover; whereas his own grandfather -had been a little squire near Ennistimon, in county Clare, and his -own first cousin once removed still held the paternal acres at Finn -Grove. His family was supposed to be descended from kings in that -part of Ireland. It certainly did not become him to fear Lady Laura -on the score of rank, if it was to be allowed to Mr. Kennedy to -proceed without fear on that head. As to wealth, Lady Laura had -already told him that her fortune was no greater than his. Her -statement to himself on that head made him feel that he should not -hesitate on the score of money. They neither had any, and he was -willing to work for both. If she feared the risk, let her say so. - -It was thus that he argued with himself; but yet he knew,--knew as -well as the reader will know,--that he was going to do that which he -had no right to do. It might be very well for him to wait,--presuming -him to be successful in his love,--for the opening of that oyster -with his political sword, that oyster on which he proposed that they -should both live; but such waiting could not well be to the taste -of Lady Laura Standish. It could hardly be pleasant to her to look -forward to his being made a junior lord or an assistant secretary -before she could establish herself in her home. So he told himself. -And yet he told himself at the same time that it was incumbent on him -to persevere. - -"I did not expect you in the least," said Lady Laura. - -"And yet I spoke very positively." - -"But there are things as to which a man may be very positive, and yet -may be allowed to fail. In the first place, how on earth did you get -home?" - -"Mr. Kennedy got me a pony,--Donald Bean's pony." - -"You told him, then?" - -"Yes; I told him why I was coming, and that I must be here. Then he -took the trouble to come all the way off the mountain to persuade -Donald to lend me his pony. I must acknowledge that Mr. Kennedy has -conquered me at last." - -"I am so glad of that," said Lady Laura. "I knew he would,--unless it -were your own fault." - -They went up the path by the brook, from bridge to bridge, till they -found themselves out upon the open mountain at the top. Phineas had -resolved that he would not speak out his mind till he found himself -on that spot; that then he would ask her to sit down, and that while -she was so seated he would tell her everything. At the present moment -he had on his head a Scotch cap with a grouse's feather in it, and he -was dressed in a velvet shooting-jacket and dark knickerbockers; and -was certainly, in this costume, as handsome a man as any woman would -wish to see. And there was, too, a look of breeding about him which -had come to him, no doubt, from the royal Finns of old, which ever -served him in great stead. He was, indeed, only Phineas Finn, and -was known by the world to be no more; but he looked as though he -might have been anybody,--a royal Finn himself. And then he had -that special grace of appearing to be altogether unconscious of his -own personal advantages. And I think that in truth he was barely -conscious of them; that he depended on them very little, if at all; -that there was nothing of personal vanity in his composition. He had -never indulged in any hope that Lady Laura would accept him because -he was a handsome man. - -"After all that climbing," he said, "will you not sit down for a -moment?" As he spoke to her she looked at him and told herself that -he was as handsome as a god. "Do sit down for one moment," he said. -"I have something that I desire to say to you, and to say it here." - -"I will," she said; "but I also have something to tell you, and will -say it while I am yet standing. Yesterday I accepted an offer of -marriage from Mr. Kennedy." - -"Then I am too late," said Phineas, and putting his hands into the -pockets of his coat, he turned his back upon her, and walked away -across the mountain. - -What a fool he had been to let her know his secret when her knowledge -of it could be of no service to him,--when her knowledge of it could -only make him appear foolish in her eyes! But for his life he could -not have kept his secret to himself. Nor now could he bring himself -to utter a word of even decent civility. But he went on walking as -though he could thus leave her there, and never see her again. What -an ass he had been in supposing that she cared for him! What a fool -to imagine that his poverty could stand a chance against the wealth -of Loughlinter! But why had she lured him on? How he wished that he -were now grinding, hard at work in Mr. Low's chambers, or sitting -at home at Killaloe with the hand of that pretty little Irish girl -within his own! - -Presently he heard a voice behind him,--calling him gently. Then he -turned and found that she was very near him. He himself had then -been standing still for some moments, and she had followed him. "Mr. -Finn," she said. - -"Well;--yes: what is it?" And turning round he made an attempt to -smile. - -"Will you not wish me joy, or say a word of congratulation? Had I not -thought much of your friendship, I should not have been so quick to -tell you of my destiny. No one else has been told, except papa." - -"Of course I hope you will be happy. Of course I do. No wonder he -lent me the pony!" - -"You must forget all that." - -"Forget what?" - -"Well,--nothing. You need forget nothing," said Lady Laura, "for -nothing has been said that need be regretted. Only wish me joy, and -all will be pleasant." - -"Lady Laura, I do wish you joy, with all my heart,--but that will not -make all things pleasant. I came up here to ask you to be my wife." - -"No;--no, no; do not say it." - -"But I have said it, and will say it again. I, poor, penniless, plain -simple fool that I am, have been ass enough to love you, Lady Laura -Standish; and I brought you up here to-day to ask you to share with -me--my nothingness. And this I have done on soil that is to be all -your own. Tell me that you regard me as a conceited fool,--as a -bewildered idiot." - -"I wish to regard you as a dear friend,--both of my own and of my -husband," said she, offering him her hand. - -"Should I have had a chance, I wonder, if I had spoken a week since?" - -"How can I answer such a question, Mr. Finn? Or, rather, I will, -answer it fully. It is not a week since we told each other, you to -me and I to you, that we were both poor,--both without other means -than those which come to us from our fathers. You will make your -way;--will make it surely; but how at present could you marry any -woman unless she had money of her own? For me,--like so many other -girls, it was necessary that I should stay at home or marry some one -rich enough to dispense with fortune in a wife. The man whom in all -the world I think the best has asked me to share everything with -him;--and I have thought it wise to accept his offer." - -"And I was fool enough to think that you loved me," said Phineas. To -this she made no immediate answer. "Yes, I was. I feel that I owe it -you to tell you what a fool I have been. I did. I thought you loved -me. At least I thought that perhaps you loved me. It was like a child -wanting the moon;--was it not?" - -"And why should I not have loved you?" she said slowly, laying her -hand gently upon his arm. - -"Why not? Because Loughlinter--" - -"Stop, Mr. Finn; stop. Do not say to me any unkind word that I -have not deserved, and that would make a breach between us. I have -accepted the owner of Loughlinter as my husband, because I verily -believe that I shall thus do my duty in that sphere of life to which -it has pleased God to call me. I have always liked him, and I will -love him. For you,--may I trust myself to speak openly to you?" - -"You may trust me as against all others, except us two ourselves." - -"For you, then, I will say also that I have always liked you since I -knew you; that I have loved you as a friend;--and could have loved -you otherwise had not circumstances showed me so plainly that it -would be unwise." - -"Oh, Lady Laura!" - -"Listen a moment. And pray remember that what I say to you now must -never be repeated to any ears. No one knows it but my father, my -brother, and Mr. Kennedy. Early in the spring I paid my brother's -debts. His affection to me is more than a return for what I have done -for him. But when I did this,--when I made up my mind to do it, I -made up my mind also that I could not allow myself the same freedom -of choice which would otherwise have belonged to me. Will that be -sufficient, Mr. Finn?" - -"How can I answer you, Lady Laura? Sufficient! And you are not angry -with me for what I have said?" - -"No, I am not angry. But it is understood, of course, that nothing -of this shall ever be repeated,--even among ourselves. Is that a -bargain?" - -"Oh, yes. I shall never speak of it again." - -"And now you will wish me joy?" - -"I have wished you joy, Lady Laura. And I will do so again. May you -have every blessing which the world can give you. You cannot expect -me to be very jovial for awhile myself; but there will be nobody to -see my melancholy moods. I shall be hiding myself away in Ireland. -When is the marriage to be?" - -"Nothing has been said of that. I shall be guided by him,--but there -must, of course, be delay. There will be settlements and I know not -what. It may probably be in the spring,--or perhaps the summer. I -shall do just what my betters tell me to do." - -Phineas had now seated himself on the exact stone on which he had -wished her to sit when he proposed to tell his own story, and was -looking forth upon the lake. It seemed to him that everything had -been changed for him while he had been up there upon the mountain, -and that the change had been marvellous in its nature. When he had -been coming up, there had been apparently two alternatives before -him: the glory of successful love,--which, indeed, had seemed to him -to be a most improbable result of the coming interview,--and the -despair and utter banishment attendant on disdainful rejection. But -his position was far removed from either of these alternatives. She -had almost told him that she would have loved him had she not been -poor,--that she was beginning to love him and had quenched her love, -because it had become impossible to her to marry a poor man. In such -circumstances he could not be angry with her,--he could not quarrel -with her; he could not do other than swear to himself that he would -be her friend. And yet he loved her better than ever;--and she was -the promised wife of his rival! Why had not Donald Bean's pony broken -his neck? - -"Shall we go down now?" she said. - -"Oh, yes." - -"You will not go on by the lake?" - -"What is the use? It is all the same now. You will want to be back to -receive him in from shooting." - -"Not that, I think. He is above those little cares. But it will be as -well we should go the nearest way, as we have spent so much of our -time here. I shall tell Mr. Kennedy that I have told you,--if you do -not mind." - -"Tell him what you please," said Phineas. - -"But I won't have it taken in that way, Mr. Finn. Your brusque want -of courtesy to me I have forgiven, but I shall expect you to make up -for it by the alacrity of your congratulations to him. I will not -have you uncourteous to Mr. Kennedy." - -"If I have been uncourteous I beg your pardon." - -"You need not do that. We are old friends, and may take the liberty -of speaking plainly to each other;--but you will owe it to Mr. -Kennedy to be gracious. Think of the pony." - -They walked back to the house together, and as they went down the -path very little was said. Just as they were about to come out upon -the open lawn, while they were still under cover of the rocks and -shrubs, Phineas stopped his companion by standing before her, and -then he made his farewell speech to her. - -"I must say good-bye to you. I shall be away early in the morning." - -"Good-bye, and God bless you," said Lady Laura. - -"Give me your hand," said he. And she gave him her hand. "I don't -suppose you know what it is to love dearly." - -"I hope I do." - -"But to be in love! I believe you do not. And to miss your love! I -think,--I am bound to think that you have never been so tormented. It -is very sore;--but I will do my best, like a man, to get over it." - -"Do, my friend, do. So small a trouble will never weigh heavily on -shoulders such as yours." - -"It will weigh very heavily, but I will struggle hard that it may not -crush me. I have loved you so dearly! As we are parting give me one -kiss, that I may think of it and treasure it in my memory!" What -murmuring words she spoke to express her refusal of such a request, -I will not quote; but the kiss had been taken before the denial was -completed, and then they walked on in silence together,--and in -peace, towards the house. - -On the next morning six or seven men were going away, and there was -an early breakfast. There were none of the ladies there, but Mr. -Kennedy, the host, was among his friends. A large drag with four -horses was there to take the travellers and their luggage to the -station, and there was naturally a good deal of noise at the front -door as the preparations for the departure were made. In the middle -of them Mr. Kennedy took our hero aside. "Laura has told me," said -Mr. Kennedy, "that she has acquainted you with my good fortune." - -"And I congratulate you most heartily," said Phineas, grasping the -other's hand. "You are indeed a lucky fellow." - -"I feel myself to be so," said Mr. Kennedy. "Such a wife was all that -was wanting to me, and such a wife is very hard to find. Will you -remember, Finn, that Loughlinter will never be so full but what -there will be a room for you, or so empty but what you will be made -welcome? I say this on Lady Laura's part and on my own." - -Phineas, as he was being carried away to the railway station, could -not keep himself from speculating as to how much Kennedy knew of -what had taken place during the walk up the Linter. Of one small -circumstance that had occurred, he felt quite sure that Mr. Kennedy -knew nothing. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -Phineas Finn Returns to Killaloe - - -Phineas Finn's first session of Parliament was over,--his first -session with all its adventures. When he got back to Mrs. Bunce's -house,--for Mrs. Bunce received him for a night in spite of her -husband's advice to the contrary,--I am afraid he almost felt that -Mrs. Bunce and her rooms were beneath him. Of course he was very -unhappy,--as wretched as a man can be; there were moments in which he -thought that it would hardly become him to live unless he could do -something to prevent the marriage of Lady Laura and Mr. Kennedy. But, -nevertheless, he had his consolations. These were reflections which -had in them much of melancholy satisfaction. He had not been despised -by the woman to whom he had told his love. She had not shown him that -she thought him to be unworthy of her. She had not regarded his love -as an offence. Indeed, she had almost told him that prudence alone -had forbidden her to return his passion. And he had kissed her, and -had afterwards parted from her as a dear friend. I do not know why -there should have been a flavour of exquisite joy in the midst of his -agony as he thought of this;--but it was so. He would never kiss her -again. All future delights of that kind would belong to Mr. Kennedy, -and he had no real idea of interfering with that gentleman in the -fruition of his privileges. But still there was the kiss,--an -eternal fact. And then, in all respects except that of his love, his -visit to Loughlinter had been pre-eminently successful. Mr. Monk had -become his friend, and had encouraged him to speak during the next -session,--setting before him various models, and prescribing for him -a course of reading. Lord Brentford had become intimate with him. He -was on pleasant terms with Mr. Palliser and Mr. Gresham. And as for -Mr. Kennedy,--he and Mr. Kennedy were almost bosom friends. It seemed -to him that he had quite surpassed the Ratlers, Fitzgibbons, and -Bonteens in that politico-social success which goes so far towards -downright political success, and which in itself is so pleasant. He -had surpassed these men in spite of their offices and their acquired -positions, and could not but think that even Mr. Low, if he knew it -all, would confess that he had been right. - -As to his bosom friendship with Mr. Kennedy, that of course troubled -him. Ought he not to be driving a poniard into Mr. Kennedy's heart? -The conventions of life forbade that; and therefore the bosom -friendship was to be excused. If not an enemy to the death, then -there could be no reason why he should not be a bosom friend. - -He went over to Ireland, staying but one night with Mrs. Bunce, and -came down upon them at Killaloe like a god out of the heavens. Even -his father was well-nigh overwhelmed by admiration, and his mother -and sisters thought themselves only fit to minister to his pleasures. -He had learned, if he had learned nothing else, to look as though he -were master of the circumstances around him, and was entirely free -from internal embarrassment. When his father spoke to him about his -legal studies, he did not exactly laugh at his father's ignorance, -but he recapitulated to his father so much of Mr. Monk's wisdom at -second hand,--showing plainly that it was his business to study the -arts of speech and the technicalities of the House, and not to study -law,--that his father had nothing further to say. He had become a -man of such dimensions that an ordinary father could hardly dare to -inquire into his proceedings; and as for an ordinary mother,--such as -Mrs. Finn certainly was,--she could do no more than look after her -son's linen with awe. - -Mary Flood Jones,--the reader I hope will not quite have forgotten -Mary Flood Jones,--was in a great tremor when first she met the hero -of Loughshane after returning from the honours of his first session. -She had been somewhat disappointed because the newspapers had not -been full of the speeches he had made in Parliament. And indeed the -ladies of the Finn household had all been ill at ease on this head. -They could not imagine why Phineas had restrained himself with so -much philosophy. But Miss Flood Jones in discussing the matter -with the Miss Finns had never expressed the slightest doubt of his -capacity or his judgment. And when tidings came,--the tidings came -in a letter from Phineas to his father,--that he did not intend to -speak that session, because speeches from a young member on his first -session were thought to be inexpedient, Miss Flood Jones and the Miss -Finns were quite willing to accept the wisdom of this decision, much -as they might regret the effect of it. Mary, when she met her hero, -hardly dared to look him in the face, but she remembered accurately -all the circumstances of her last interview with him. Could it be -that he wore that ringlet near his heart? Mary had received from -Barbara Finn certain hairs supposed to have come from the head of -Phineas, and these she always wore near her own. And moreover, since -she had seen Phineas she had refused an offer of marriage from Mr. -Elias Bodkin,--had refused it almost ignominiously,--and when doing -so had told herself that she would never be false to Phineas Finn. - -"We think it so good of you to come to see us again," she said. - -"Good to come home to my own people?" - -"Of course you might be staying with plenty of grandees if you liked -it." - -"No, indeed, Mary. It did happen by accident that I had to go to the -house of a man whom perhaps you would call a grandee, and to meet -grandees there. But it was only for a few days, and I am very glad to -be taken in again here, I can assure you." - -"You know how very glad we all are to have you." - -"Are you glad to see me, Mary?" - -"Very glad. Why should I not be glad, and Barbara the dearest friend -I have in the world? Of course she talks about you,--and that makes -me think of you." - -"If you knew, Mary, how often I think about you." Then Mary, who was -very happy at hearing such words, and who was walking in to dinner -with him at the moment, could not refrain herself from pressing his -arm with her little fingers. She knew that Phineas in his position -could not marry at once; but she would wait for him,--oh, for ever, -if he would only ask her. He of course was a wicked traitor to tell -her that he was wont to think of her. But Jove smiles at lovers' -perjuries;--and it is well that he should do so, as such perjuries -can hardly be avoided altogether in the difficult circumstances of a -successful gentleman's life. Phineas was a traitor, of course, but he -was almost forced to be a traitor, by the simple fact that Lady Laura -Standish was in London, and Mary Flood Jones in Killaloe. - -He remained for nearly five months at Killaloe, and I doubt whether -his time was altogether well spent. Some of the books recommended -to him by Mr. Monk he probably did read, and was often to be found -encompassed by blue books. I fear that there was a grain of pretence -about his blue books and parliamentary papers, and that in these days -he was, in a gentle way, something of an impostor. "You must not be -angry with me for not going to you," he said once to Mary's mother -when he had declined an invitation to drink tea; "but the fact is -that my time is not my own." "Pray don't make any apologies. We are -quite aware that we have very little to offer," said Mrs. Flood -Jones, who was not altogether happy about Mary, and who perhaps knew -more about members of Parliament and blue books than Phineas Finn had -supposed. "Mary, you are a fool to think of that man," the mother -said to her daughter the next morning. "I don't think of him, mamma; -not particularly." "He is no better than anybody else that I can see, -and he is beginning to give himself airs," said Mrs. Flood Jones. -Mary made no answer; but she went up into her room and swore before a -figure of the Virgin that she would be true to Phineas for ever and -ever, in spite of her mother, in spite of all the world,--in spite, -should it be necessary, even of himself. - -About Christmas time there came a discussion between Phineas and his -father about money. "I hope you find you get on pretty well," said -the doctor, who thought that he had been liberal. - -"It's a tight fit," said Phineas,--who was less afraid of his father -than he had been when he last discussed these things. - -"I had hoped it would have been ample," said the doctor. - -"Don't think for a moment, sir, that I am complaining," said Phineas. -"I know it is much more than I have a right to expect." - -The doctor began to make an inquiry within his own breast as to -whether his son had a right to expect anything;--whether the time -had not come in which his son should be earning his own bread. "I -suppose," he said, after a pause, "there is no chance of your doing -anything at the bar now?" - -"Not immediately. It is almost impossible to combine the two studies -together." Mr. Low himself was aware of that. "But you are not to -suppose that I have given the profession up." - -"I hope not,--after all the money it has cost us." - -"By no means, sir. And all that I am doing now will, I trust, be of -assistance to me when I shall come back to work at the law. Of course -it is on the cards that I may go into office,--and if so, public -business will become my profession." - -"And be turned out with the Ministry!" - -"Yes; that is true, sir. I must run my chance. If the worst comes to -the worst, I hope I might be able to secure some permanent place. I -should think that I can hardly fail to do so. But I trust I may never -be driven to want it. I thought, however, that we had settled all -this before." Then Phineas assumed a look of injured innocence, as -though his father was driving him too hard. - -"And in the mean time your money has been enough?" said the doctor, -after a pause. - -"I had intended to ask you to advance me a hundred pounds," said -Phineas. "There were expenses to which I was driven on first entering -Parliament." - -"A hundred pounds." - -"If it be inconvenient, sir, I can do without it." He had not as -yet paid for his gun, or for that velvet coat in which he had been -shooting, or, most probably, for the knickerbockers. He knew he -wanted the hundred pounds badly; but he felt ashamed of himself in -asking for it. If he were once in office,--though the office were but -a sorry junior lordship,--he would repay his father instantly. - -"You shall have it, of course," said the doctor; "but do not let the -necessity for asking for more hundreds come oftener than you can -help." Phineas said that he would not, and then there was no further -discourse about money. It need hardly be said that he told his father -nothing of that bill which he had endorsed for Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -At last came the time which called him again to London and the -glories of London life,--to lobbies, and the clubs, and the gossip of -men in office, and the chance of promotion for himself; to the glare -of the gas-lamps, the mock anger of rival debaters, and the prospect -of the Speaker's wig. During the idleness of the recess he had -resolved at any rate upon this,--that a month of the session should -not have passed by before he had been seen upon his legs in the -House,--had been seen and heard. And many a time as he had wandered -alone, with his gun, across the bogs which lie on the other side of -the Shannon from Killaloe, he had practised the sort of address which -he would make to the House. He would be short,--always short; and he -would eschew all action and gesticulation; Mr. Monk had been very -urgent in his instructions to him on that head; but he would be -especially careful that no words should escape him which had not in -them some purpose. He might be wrong in his purpose, but purpose -there should be. He had been twitted more than once at Killaloe -with his silence;--for it had been conceived by his fellow-townsmen -that he had been sent to Parliament on the special ground of his -eloquence. They should twit him no more on his next return. He would -speak and would carry the House with him if a human effort might -prevail. - -So he packed up his things, and started again for London in the -beginning of February. "Good-bye, Mary," he said with his sweetest -smile. But on this occasion there was no kiss, and no culling of -locks. "I know he cannot help it," said Mary to herself. "It is his -position. But whether it be for good or evil, I will be true to him." - -"I am afraid you are unhappy," Babara Finn said to her on the next -morning. - -"No; I am not unhappy,--not at all. I have a deal to make me happy -and proud. I don't mean to be a bit unhappy." Then she turned away -and cried heartily, and Barbara Finn cried with her for company. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -Phineas Finn Returns to London - - -Phineas had received two letters during his recess at Killaloe from -two women who admired him much, which, as they were both short, shall -be submitted to the reader. The first was as follows:-- - - - Saulsby, October 20, 186--. - - MY DEAR MR. FINN, - - I write a line to tell you that our marriage is to be - hurried on as quickly as possible. Mr. Kennedy does not - like to be absent from Parliament; nor will he be content - to postpone the ceremony till the session be over. The day - fixed is the 3rd of December, and we then go at once to - Rome, and intend to be back in London by the opening of - Parliament. - - Yours most sincerely, - - LAURA STANDISH. - - Our London address will be No. 52, Grosvenor Place. - - -To this he wrote an answer as short, expressing his ardent wishes -that those winter hymeneals might produce nothing but happiness, and -saying that he would not be in town many days before he knocked at -the door of No. 52, Grosvenor Place. - -And the second letter was as follows:-- - - - Great Marlborough Street, December, 186--. - - DEAR AND HONOURED SIR, - - Bunce is getting ever so anxious about the rooms, and - says as how he has a young Equity draftsman and wife and - baby as would take the whole house, and all because Miss - Pouncefoot said a word about her port wine, which any lady - of her age might say in her tantrums, and mean nothing - after all. Me and Miss Pouncefoot's knowed each other for - seven years, and what's a word or two as isn't meant after - that? But, honoured sir, it's not about that as I write - to trouble you, but to ask if I may say for certain that - you'll take the rooms again in February. It's easy to - let them for the month after Christmas, because of the - pantomimes. Only say at once, because Bunce is nagging - me day after day. I don't want nobody's wife and baby to - have to do for, and 'd sooner have a Parliament gent like - yourself than any one else. - - Yours umbly and respectful, - - JANE BUNCE. - - -To this he replied that he would certainly come back to the rooms -in Great Marlborough Street, should he be lucky enough to find them -vacant, and he expressed his willingness to take them on and from -the 1st of February. And on the 3rd of February he found himself in -the old quarters, Mrs. Bunce having contrived, with much conjugal -adroitness, both to keep Miss Pouncefoot and to stave off the Equity -draftsman's wife and baby. Bunce, however, received Phineas very -coldly, and told his wife the same evening that as far as he could -see their lodger would never turn up to be a trump in the matter of -the ballot. "If he means well, why did he go and stay with them lords -down in Scotland? I knows all about it. I knows a man when I sees -him. Mr. Low, who's looking out to be a Tory judge some of these -days, is a deal better;--because he knows what he's after." - -Immediately on his return to town, Phineas found himself summoned to -a political meeting at Mr. Mildmay's house in St. James's Square. -"We're going to begin in earnest this time," Barrington Erle said to -him at the club. - -"I am glad of that," said Phineas. - -"I suppose you heard all about it down at Loughlinter?" - -Now, in truth, Phineas had heard very little of any settled plan down -at Loughlinter. He had played a game of chess with Mr. Gresham, and -had shot a stag with Mr. Palliser, and had discussed sheep with Lord -Brentford, but had hardly heard a word about politics from any one -of those influential gentlemen. From Mr. Monk he had heard much of a -coming Reform Bill; but his communications with Mr. Monk had rather -been private discussions,--in which he had learned Mr. Monk's own -views on certain points,--than revelations on the intention of the -party to which Mr. Monk belonged. "I heard of nothing settled," said -Phineas; "but I suppose we are to have a Reform Bill." - -"That is a matter of course." - -"And I suppose we are not to touch the question of ballot." - -"That's the difficulty," said Barrington Erle. "But of course we -shan't touch it as long as Mr. Mildmay is in the Cabinet. He will -never consent to the ballot as First Minister of the Crown." - -"Nor would Gresham, or Palliser," said Phineas, who did not choose to -bring forward his greatest gun at first. - -"I don't know about Gresham. It is impossible to say what Gresham -might bring himself to do. Gresham is a man who may go any lengths -before he has done. Planty Pall,"--for such was the name by which Mr. -Plantagenet Palliser was ordinarily known among his friends,--"would -of course go with Mr. Mildmay and the Duke." - -"And Monk is opposed to the ballot," said Phineas. - -"Ah, that's the question. No doubt he has assented to the proposition -of a measure without the ballot; but if there should come a row, and -men like Turnbull demand it, and the London mob kick up a shindy, I -don't know how far Monk would be steady." - -"Whatever he says, he'll stick to." - -"He is your leader, then?" asked Barrington. - -"I don't know that I have a leader. Mr. Mildmay leads our side; and -if anybody leads me, he does. But I have great faith in Mr. Monk." - -"There's one who would go for the ballot to-morrow, if it were -brought forward stoutly," said Barrington Erle to Mr. Ratler a few -minutes afterwards, pointing to Phineas as he spoke. - -"I don't think much of that young man," said Ratler. - -Mr. Bonteen and Mr. Ratler had put their heads together during that -last evening at Loughlinter, and had agreed that they did not think -much of Phineas Finn. Why did Mr. Kennedy go down off the mountain -to get him a pony? And why did Mr. Gresham play chess with him? Mr. -Ratler and Mr. Bonteen may have been right in making up their minds -to think but little of Phineas Finn, but Barrington Erle had been -quite wrong when he had said that Phineas would "go for the ballot" -to-morrow. Phineas had made up his mind very strongly that he would -always oppose the ballot. That he would hold the same opinion -throughout his life, no one should pretend to say; but in his present -mood, and under the tuition which he had received from Mr. Monk, -he was prepared to demonstrate, out of the House and in it, that -the ballot was, as a political measure, unmanly, ineffective, and -enervating. Enervating had been a great word with Mr. Monk, and -Phineas had clung to it with admiration. - -The meeting took place at Mr. Mildmay's on the third day of the -session. Phineas had of course heard of such meetings before, but had -never attended one. Indeed, there had been no such gathering when -Mr. Mildmay's party came into power early in the last session. Mr. -Mildmay and his men had then made their effort in turning out their -opponents, and had been well pleased to rest awhile upon their oars. -Now, however, they must go again to work, and therefore the liberal -party was collected at Mr. Mildmay's house, in order that the liberal -party might be told what it was that Mr. Mildmay and his Cabinet -intended to do. - -Phineas Finn was quite in the dark as to what would be the nature -of the performance on this occasion, and entertained some idea that -every gentleman present would be called upon to express individually -his assent or dissent in regard to the measure proposed. He walked to -St. James's Square with Laurence Fitzgibbon; but even with Fitzgibbon -was ashamed to show his ignorance by asking questions. "After all," -said Fitzgibbon, "this kind of thing means nothing. I know as well as -possible, and so do you, what Mr. Mildmay will say,--and then Gresham -will say a few words; and then Turnbull will make a murmur, and then -we shall all assent,--to anything or to nothing;--and then it will be -over." Still Phineas did not understand whether the assent required -would or would not be an individual personal assent. When the affair -was over he found that he was disappointed, and that he might almost -as well have stayed away from the meeting,--except that he had -attended at Mr. Mildmay's bidding, and had given a silent adhesion to -Mr. Mildmay's plan of reform for that session. Laurence Fitzgibbon -had been very nearly correct in his description of what would occur. -Mr. Mildmay made a long speech. Mr. Turnbull, the great Radical of -the day,--the man who was supposed to represent what many called the -Manchester school of politics,--asked half a dozen questions. In -answer to these Mr. Gresham made a short speech. Then Mr. Mildmay -made another speech, and then all was over. The gist of the whole -thing was, that there should be a Reform Bill,--very generous in its -enlargement of the franchise,--but no ballot. Mr. Turnbull expressed -his doubt whether this would be satisfactory to the country; but even -Mr. Turnbull was soft in his tone and complaisant in his manner. As -there was no reporter present,--that plan of turning private meetings -at gentlemen's houses into public assemblies not having been as yet -adopted,--there could be no need for energy or violence. They went to -Mr. Mildmay's house to hear Mr. Mildmay's plan,--and they heard it. - -Two days after this Phineas was to dine with Mr. Monk. Mr. Monk had -asked him in the lobby of the House. "I don't give dinner parties," -he said, "but I should like you to come and meet Mr. Turnbull." -Phineas accepted the invitation as a matter of course. There were -many who said that Mr. Turnbull was the greatest man in the nation, -and that the nation could be saved only by a direct obedience to -Mr. Turnbull's instructions. Others said that Mr. Turnbull was a -demagogue and at heart a rebel; that he was un-English, false and -very dangerous. Phineas was rather inclined to believe the latter -statement; and as danger and dangerous men are always more attractive -than safety and safe men, he was glad to have an opportunity of -meeting Mr. Turnbull at dinner. - -In the meantime he went to call on Lady Laura, whom he had not -seen since the last evening which he spent in her company at -Loughlinter,--whom, when he was last speaking to her, he had kissed -close beneath the falls of the Linter. He found her at home, and with -her was her husband. "Here is a Darby and Joan meeting, is it not?" -she said, getting up to welcome him. He had seen Mr. Kennedy before, -and had been standing close to him during the meeting at Mr. -Mildmay's. - -"I am very glad to find you both together." - -"But Robert is going away this instant," said Lady Laura. "Has he -told you of our adventures at Rome?" - -"Not a word." - -"Then I must tell you;--but not now. The dear old Pope was so civil -to us. I came to think it quite a pity that he should be in trouble." - -"I must be off," said the husband, getting up. "But I shall meet you -at dinner, I believe." - -"Do you dine at Mr. Monk's?" - -"Yes, and am asked expressly to hear Turnbull make a convert of you. -There are only to be us four. Au revoir." Then Mr. Kennedy went, and -Phineas found himself alone with Lady Laura. He hardly knew how to -address her, and remained silent. He had not prepared himself for the -interview as he ought to have done, and felt himself to be awkward. -She evidently expected him to speak, and for a few seconds sat -waiting for what he might say. - -At last she found that it was incumbent on her to begin. "Were you -surprised at our suddenness when you got my note?" - -"A little. You had spoken of waiting." - -"I had never imagined that he would have been impetuous. And he seems -to think that even the business of getting himself married would not -justify him staying away from Parliament. He is a rigid martinet in -all matters of duty." - -"I did not wonder that he should be in a hurry, but that you should -submit." - -"I told you that I should do just what the wise people told me. I -asked papa, and he said that it would be better. So the lawyers were -driven out of their minds, and the milliners out of their bodies, and -the thing was done." - -"Who was there at the marriage?" - -"Oswald was not there. That I know is what you mean to ask. Papa said -that he might come if he pleased. Oswald stipulated that he should be -received as a son. Then my father spoke the hardest word that ever -fell from his mouth." - -"What did he say?" - -"I will not repeat it,--not altogether. But he said that Oswald was -not entitled to a son's treatment. He was very sore about my money, -because Robert was so generous as to his settlement. So the breach -between them is as wide as ever." - -"And where is Chiltern now?" said Phineas. - -"Down in Northamptonshire, staying at some inn from whence he hunts. -He tells me that he is quite alone,--that he never dines out, never -has any one to dine with him, that he hunts five or six days a -week,--and reads at night." - -"That is not a bad sort of life." - -"Not if the reading is any good. But I cannot bear that he should be -so solitary. And if he breaks down in it, then his companions will -not be fit for him. Do you ever hunt?" - -"Oh yes,--at home in county Clare. All Irishmen hunt." - -"I wish you would go down to him and see him. He would be delighted -to have you." - -Phineas thought over the proposition before he answered it, and then -made the reply that he had made once before. "I would do so, Lady -Laura,--but that I have no money for hunting in England." - -"Alas, alas!" said she, smiling. "How that hits one on every side!" - -"I might manage it,--for a couple of days,--in March." - -"Do not do what you think you ought not to do," said Lady Laura. - -"No; certainly. But I should like it, and if I can I will." - -"He could mount you, I have no doubt. He has no other expense now, -and keeps a stable full of horses. I think he has seven or eight. And -now tell me, Mr. Finn; when are you going to charm the House? Or is -it your first intention to strike terror?" - -He blushed,--he knew that he blushed as he answered. "Oh, I suppose I -shall make some sort of attempt before long. I can't bear the idea of -being a bore." - -"I think you ought to speak, Mr. Finn." - -"I do not know about that, but I certainly mean to try. There will be -lots of opportunities about the new Reform Bill. Of course you know -that Mr. Mildmay is going to bring it in at once. You hear all that -from Mr. Kennedy." - -"And papa has told me. I still see papa almost every day. You must -call upon him. Mind you do." Phineas said that he certainly would. -"Papa is very lonely now, and I sometimes feel that I have been -almost cruel in deserting him. And I think that he has a horror of -the house,--especially later in the year,--always fancying that he -will meet Oswald. I am so unhappy about it all, Mr. Finn." - -"Why doesn't your brother marry?" said Phineas, knowing nothing as -yet of Lord Chiltern and Violet Effingham. "If he were to marry well, -that would bring your father round." - -"Yes,--it would." - -"And why should he not?" - -Lady Laura paused before she answered; and then she told the whole -story. "He is violently in love, and the girl he loves has refused -him twice." - -"Is it with Miss Effingham?" asked Phineas, guessing the truth at -once, and remembering what Miss Effingham had said to him when riding -in the wood. - -"Yes;--with Violet Effingham; my father's pet, his favourite, whom he -loves next to myself,--almost as well as myself; whom he would really -welcome as a daughter. He would gladly make her mistress of his -house, and of Saulsby. Everything would then go smoothly." - -"But she does not like Lord Chiltern?" - -"I believe she loves him in her heart; but she is afraid of him. As -she says herself, a girl is bound to be so careful of herself. With -all her seeming frolic, Violet Effingham is very wise." - -Phineas, though not conscious of anything akin to jealousy, was -annoyed at the revelation made to him. Since he had heard that Lord -Chiltern was in love with Miss Effingham, he did not like Lord -Chiltern quite as well as he had done before. He himself had simply -admired Miss Effingham, and had taken pleasure in her society; but, -though this had been all, he did not like to hear of another man -wanting to marry her, and he was almost angry with Lady Laura for -saying that she believed Miss Effingham loved her brother. If Miss -Effingham had twice refused Lord Chiltern, that ought to have been -sufficient. It was not that Phineas was in love with Miss Effingham -himself. As he was still violently in love with Lady Laura, any other -love was of course impossible; but, nevertheless, there was something -offensive to him in the story as it had been told. "If it be wisdom -on her part," said he, answering Lady Laura's last words, "you cannot -find fault with her for her decision." - -"I find no fault;--but I think my brother would make her happy." - -Lady Laura, when she was left alone, at once reverted to the tone in -which Phineas Finn had answered her remarks about Miss Effingham. -Phineas was very ill able to conceal his thoughts, and wore his heart -almost upon his sleeve. "Can it be possible that he cares for her -himself?" That was the nature of Lady Laura's first question to -herself upon the matter. And in asking herself that question, she -thought nothing of the disparity in rank or fortune between Phineas -Finn and Violet Effingham. Nor did it occur to her as at all -improbable that Violet might accept the love of him who had so lately -been her own lover. But the idea grated against her wishes on two -sides. She was most anxious that Violet should ultimately become her -brother's wife,--and she could not be pleased that Phineas should be -able to love any woman. - -I must beg my readers not to be carried away by those last words -into any erroneous conclusion. They must not suppose that Lady Laura -Kennedy, the lately married bride, indulged a guilty passion for the -young man who had loved her. Though she had probably thought often -of Phineas Finn since her marriage, her thoughts had never been of -a nature to disturb her rest. It had never occurred to her even to -think that she regarded him with any feeling that was an offence -to her husband. She would have hated herself had any such idea -presented itself to her mind. She prided herself on being a pure -high-principled woman, who had kept so strong a guard upon herself as -to be nearly free from the dangers of those rocks upon which other -women made shipwreck of their happiness. She took pride in this, and -would then blame herself for her own pride. But though she so blamed -herself, it never occurred to her to think that to her there might be -danger of such shipwreck. She had put away from herself the idea of -love when she had first perceived that Phineas had regarded her with -more than friendship, and had accepted Mr. Kennedy's offer with an -assured conviction that by doing so she was acting best for her own -happiness and for that of all those concerned. She had felt the -romance of the position to be sweet when Phineas had stood with her -at the top of the falls of the Linter, and had told her of the hopes -which he had dared to indulge. And when at the bottom of the falls he -had presumed to take her in his arms, she had forgiven him without -difficulty to herself, telling herself that that would be the alpha -and the omega of the romance of her life. She had not felt herself -bound to tell Mr. Kennedy of what had occurred,--but she had felt -that he could hardly have been angry even had he been told. And she -had often thought of her lover since, and of his love,--telling -herself that she too had once had a lover, never regarding her -husband in that light; but her thoughts had not frightened her as -guilty thoughts will do. There had come a romance which had been -pleasant, and it was gone. It had been soon banished,--but it -had left to her a sweet flavour, of which she loved to taste the -sweetness though she knew that it was gone. And the man should be her -friend, but especially her husband's friend. It should be her care to -see that his life was successful,--and especially her husband's care. -It was a great delight to her to know that her husband liked the man. -And the man would marry, and the man's wife should be her friend. All -this had been very pure and very pleasant. Now an idea had flitted -across her brain that the man was in love with some one else,--and -she did not like it! - -But she did not therefore become afraid of herself, or in the least -realise at once the danger of her own position. Her immediate glance -at the matter did not go beyond the falseness of men. If it were so, -as she suspected,--if Phineas had in truth transferred his affections -to Violet Effingham, of how little value was the love of such a man! -It did not occur to her at this moment that she also had transferred -hers to Robert Kennedy, or that, if not, she had done worse. But she -did remember that in the autumn this young Phoebus among men had -turned his back upon her out upon the mountain that he might hide -from her the agony of his heart when he learned that she was to be -the wife of another man; and that now, before the winter was over, he -could not hide from her the fact that his heart was elsewhere! And -then she speculated, and counted up facts, and satisfied herself that -Phineas could not even have seen Violet Effingham since they two had -stood together upon the mountain. How false are men!--how false and -how weak of heart! - -"Chiltern and Violet Effingham!" said Phineas to himself, as he -walked away from Grosvenor Place. "Is it fair that she should be -sacrificed because she is rich, and because she is so winning and so -fascinating that Lord Brentford would receive even his son for the -sake of receiving also such a daughter-in-law?" Phineas also liked -Lord Chiltern; had seen or fancied that he had seen fine things in -him; had looked forward to his regeneration, hoping, perhaps, that he -might have some hand in the good work. But he did not recognise the -propriety of sacrificing Violet Effingham even for work so good as -this. If Miss Effingham had refused Lord Chiltern twice, surely that -ought to be sufficient. It did not occur to him that the love of such -a girl as Violet would be a great treasure--to himself. As regarded -himself, he was still in love,--hopelessly in love, with Lady Laura -Kennedy! - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Mr. Turnbull - - -It was a Wednesday evening and there was no House;--and at seven -o'clock Phineas was at Mr. Monk's hall door. He was the first of the -guests, and he found Mr. Monk alone in the dining-room. "I am doing -butler," said Mr. Monk, who had a brace of decanters in his hands, -which he proceeded to put down in the neighbourhood of the fire. -"But I have finished, and now we will go up-stairs to receive the -two great men properly." - -"I beg your pardon for coming too early," said Finn. - -"Not a minute too early. Seven is seven, and it is I who am too late. -But, Lord bless you, you don't think I'm ashamed of being found in -the act of decanting my own wine! I remember Lord Palmerston saying -before some committee about salaries, five or six years ago now, I -daresay, that it wouldn't do for an English Minister to have his hall -door opened by a maid-servant. Now, I'm an English Minister, and -I've got nobody but a maid-servant to open my hall door, and I'm -obliged to look after my own wine. I wonder whether it's improper? I -shouldn't like to be the means of injuring the British Constitution." - -"Perhaps if you resign soon, and if nobody follows your example, -grave evil results may be avoided." - -"I sincerely hope so, for I do love the British Constitution; and I -love also the respect in which members of the English Cabinet are -held. Now Turnbull, who will be here in a moment, hates it all; but -he is a rich man, and has more powdered footmen hanging about his -house than ever Lord Palmerston had himself." - -"He is still in business." - -"Oh yes;--and makes his thirty thousand a year. Here he is. How are -you, Turnbull? We were talking about my maid-servant. I hope she -opened the door for you properly." - -"Certainly,--as far as I perceived," said Mr. Turnbull, who was -better at a speech than a joke. "A very respectable young woman I -should say." - -"There is not one more so in all London," said Mr. Monk; "but Finn -seems to think that I ought to have a man in livery." - -"It is a matter of perfect indifference to me," said Mr. Turnbull. -"I am one of those who never think of such things." - -"Nor I either," said Mr. Monk. Then the laird of Loughlinter was -announced, and they all went down to dinner. - -Mr. Turnbull was a good-looking robust man about sixty, with long -grey hair and a red complexion, with hard eyes, a well-cut nose, and -full lips. He was nearly six feet high, stood quite upright, and -always wore a black swallow-tail coat, black trousers, and a black -silk waistcoat. In the House, at least, he was always so dressed, and -at dinner tables. What difference there might be in his costume when -at home at Staleybridge few of those who saw him in London had the -means of knowing. There was nothing in his face to indicate special -talent. No one looking at him would take him to be a fool; but there -was none of the fire of genius in his eye, nor was there in the lines -of his mouth any of that play of thought or fancy which is generally -to be found in the faces of men and women who have made themselves -great. Mr. Turnbull had certainly made himself great, and could -hardly have done so without force of intellect. He was one of the -most popular, if not the most popular politician in the country. Poor -men believed in him, thinking that he was their most honest public -friend; and men who were not poor believed in his power, thinking -that his counsels must surely prevail. He had obtained the ear of the -House and the favour of the reporters, and opened his voice at no -public dinner, on no public platform, without a conviction that the -words spoken by him would be read by thousands. The first necessity -for good speaking is a large audience; and of this advantage Mr. -Turnbull had made himself sure. And yet it could hardly be said that -he was a great orator. He was gifted with a powerful voice, with -strong, and I may, perhaps, call them broad convictions, with perfect -self-reliance, with almost unlimited powers of endurance, with hot -ambition, with no keen scruples, and with a moral skin of great -thickness. Nothing said against him pained him, no attacks wounded -him, no raillery touched him in the least. There was not a sore spot -about him, and probably his first thoughts on waking every morning -told him that he, at least, was totus teres atque rotundus. He was, -of course, a thorough Radical,--and so was Mr. Monk. But Mr. Monk's -first waking thoughts were probably exactly the reverse of those -of his friend. Mr. Monk was a much hotter man in debate than Mr. -Turnbull;--but Mr. Monk was ever doubting of himself, and never -doubted of himself so much as when he had been most violent, and -also most effective, in debate. When Mr. Monk jeered at himself for -being a Cabinet Minister and keeping no attendant grander than a -parlour-maid, there was a substratum of self-doubt under the joke. - -Mr. Turnbull was certainly a great Radical, and as such enjoyed a -great reputation. I do not think that high office in the State had -ever been offered to him; but things had been said which justified -him, or seemed to himself to justify him, in declaring that in -no possible circumstances would he serve the Crown. "I serve the -people," he had said, "and much as I respect the servants of the -Crown, I think that my own office is the higher." He had been greatly -called to task for this speech; and Mr. Mildmay, the present Premier, -had asked him whether he did not recognise the so-called servants of -the Crown as the most hard-worked and truest servants of the people. -The House and the press had supported Mr. Mildmay, but to all that -Mr. Turnbull was quite indifferent; and when an assertion made by him -before three or four thousand persons at Manchester, to the effect -that he,--he specially,--was the friend and servant of the people, -was received with acclamation, he felt quite satisfied that he had -gained his point. Progressive reform in the franchise, of which -manhood suffrage should be the acknowledged and not far distant end, -equal electoral districts, ballot, tenant right for England as well -as Ireland, reduction of the standing army till there should be no -standing army to reduce, utter disregard of all political movements -in Europe, an almost idolatrous admiration for all political -movements in America, free trade in everything except malt, and -an absolute extinction of a State Church,--these were among the -principal articles in Mr. Turnbull's political catalogue. And I -think that when once he had learned the art of arranging his words -as he stood upon his legs, and had so mastered his voice as to -have obtained the ear of the House, the work of his life was not -difficult. Having nothing to construct, he could always deal with -generalities. Being free from responsibility, he was not called upon -either to study details or to master even great facts. It was his -business to inveigh against existing evils, and perhaps there is -no easier business when once the privilege of an audience has been -attained. It was his work to cut down forest-trees, and he had -nothing to do with the subsequent cultivation of the land. Mr. -Monk had once told Phineas Finn how great were the charms of that -inaccuracy which was permitted to the Opposition. Mr. Turnbull no -doubt enjoyed these charms to the full, though he would sooner have -put a padlock on his mouth for a month than have owned as much. Upon -the whole, Mr. Turnbull was no doubt right in resolving that he would -not take office, though some reticence on that subject might have -been more becoming to him. - -The conversation at dinner, though it was altogether on political -subjects, had in it nothing of special interest as long as the girl -was there to change the plates; but when she was gone, and the door -was closed, it gradually opened out, and there came on to be a -pleasant sparring match between the two great Radicals,--the Radical -who had joined himself to the governing powers, and the Radical who -stood aloof. Mr. Kennedy barely said a word now and then, and Phineas -was almost as silent as Mr. Kennedy. He had come there to hear some -such discussion, and was quite willing to listen while guns of such -great calibre were being fired off for his amusement. - -"I think Mr. Mildmay is making a great step forward," said Mr. -Turnbull. - -"I think he is," said Mr. Monk. - -"I did not believe that he would ever live to go so far. It will -hardly suffice even for this year; but still coming from him, it is -a great deal. It only shows how far a man may be made to go, if only -the proper force be applied. After all, it matters very little who -are the Ministers." - -"That is what I have always declared," said Mr. Monk. - -"Very little indeed. We don't mind whether it be Lord de Terrier, or -Mr. Mildmay, or Mr. Gresham, or you yourself, if you choose to get -yourself made First Lord of the Treasury." - -"I have no such ambition, Turnbull." - -"I should have thought you had. If I went in for that kind of thing -myself, I should like to go to the top of the ladder. I should feel -that if I could do any good at all by becoming a Minister, I could -only do it by becoming first Minister." - -"You wouldn't doubt your own fitness for such a position?" - -"I doubt my fitness for the position of any Minister," said Mr. -Turnbull. - -"You mean that on other grounds," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"I mean it on every ground," said Mr. Turnbull, rising on his legs -and standing with his back to the fire. "Of course I am not fit to -have diplomatic intercourse with men who would come to me simply with -the desire of deceiving me. Of course I am unfit to deal with members -of Parliament who would flock around me because they wanted places. -Of course I am unfit to answer every man's question so as to give no -information to any one." - -"Could you not answer them so as to give information?" said Mr. -Kennedy. - -But Mr. Turnbull was so intent on his speech that it may be doubted -whether he heard this interruption. He took no notice of it as he -went on. "Of course I am unfit to maintain the proprieties of a -seeming confidence between a Crown all-powerless and a people -all-powerful. No man recognises his own unfitness for such work more -clearly than I do, Mr. Monk. But if I took in hand such work at all, -I should like to be the leader, and not the led. Tell us fairly, now, -what are your convictions worth in Mr. Mildmay's Cabinet?" - -"That is a question which a man may hardly answer himself," said Mr. -Monk. - -"It is a question which a man should at least answer for himself -before he consents to sit there," said Mr. Turnbull, in a tone of -voice which was almost angry. - -"And what reason have you for supposing that I have omitted that -duty?" said Mr. Monk. - -"Simply this,--that I cannot reconcile your known opinions with the -practices of your colleagues." - -"I will not tell you what my convictions may be worth in Mr. -Mildmay's Cabinet. I will not take upon myself to say that they are -worth the chair on which I sit when I am there. But I will tell you -what my aspirations were when I consented to fill that chair, and you -shall judge of their worth. I thought that they might possibly leaven -the batch of bread which we have to bake,--giving to the whole batch -more of the flavour of reform than it would have possessed had I -absented myself. I thought that when I was asked to join Mr. Mildmay -and Mr. Gresham, the very fact of that request indicated liberal -progress, and that if I refused the request I should be declining to -assist in good work." - -"You could have supported them, if anything were proposed worthy of -support," said Mr. Turnbull. - -"Yes; but I could not have been so effective in taking care that -some measure be proposed worthy of support as I may possibly be now. -I thought a good deal about it, and I believe that my decision was -right." - -"I am sure you were right," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"There can be no juster object of ambition than a seat in the -Cabinet," said Phineas. - -"Sir, I must dispute that," said Mr. Turnbull, turning round upon our -hero. "I regard the position of our high Ministers as most -respectable." - -"Thank you for so much," said Mr. Monk. But the orator went on again, -regardless of the interruption:-- - -"The position of gentlemen in inferior offices,--of gentlemen who -attend rather to the nods and winks of their superiors in Downing -Street than to the interest of their constituents,--I do not regard -as being highly respectable." - -"A man cannot begin at the top," said Phineas. - -"Our friend Mr. Monk has begun at what you are pleased to call the -top," said Mr. Turnbull. "But I will not profess to think that even -he has raised himself by going into office. To be an independent -representative of a really popular commercial constituency is, in my -estimation, the highest object of an Englishman's ambition." - -"But why commercial, Mr. Turnbull?" said Mr. Kennedy. - -"Because the commercial constituencies really do elect their own -members in accordance with their own judgments, whereas the counties -and the small towns are coerced either by individuals or by a -combination of aristocratic influences." - -"And yet," said Mr. Kennedy, "there are not half a dozen -Conservatives returned by all the counties in Scotland." - -"Scotland is very much to be honoured," said Mr. Turnbull. - -Mr. Kennedy was the first to take his departure, and Mr. Turnbull -followed him very quickly. Phineas got up to go at the same time, but -stayed at his host's request, and sat for awhile smoking a cigar. - -"Turnbull is a wonderful man," said Mr. Monk. - -"Does he not domineer too much?" - -"His fault is not arrogance, so much as ignorance that there is, -or should be, a difference between public and private life. In the -House of Commons a man in Mr. Turnbull's position must speak with -dictatorial assurance. He is always addressing, not the House only, -but the country at large, and the country will not believe in him -unless he believe in himself. But he forgets that he is not always -addressing the country at large. I wonder what sort of a time Mrs. -Turnbull and the little Turnbulls have of it?" - -Phineas, as he went home, made up his mind that Mrs. Turnbull and -the little Turnbulls must probably have a bad time of it. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -Lord Chiltern Rides His Horse Bonebreaker - - -It was known that whatever might be the details of Mr. Mildmay's -bill, the ballot would not form a part of it; and as there was a -strong party in the House of Commons, and a very numerous party out -of it, who were desirous that voting by ballot should be made a part -of the electoral law, it was decided that an independent motion -should be brought on in anticipation of Mr. Mildmay's bill. The -arrangement was probably one of Mr. Mildmay's own making; so that -he might be hampered by no opposition on that subject by his own -followers if,--as he did not doubt,--the motion should be lost. -It was expected that the debate would not last over one night, -and Phineas resolved that he would make his maiden speech on this -occasion. He had very strong opinions as to the inefficacy of the -ballot for any good purposes, and thought that he might be able to -strike out from his convictions some sparks of that fire which used -to be so plentiful with him at the old debating clubs. But even at -breakfast that morning his heart began to beat quickly at the idea -of having to stand on his legs before so critical an audience. - -He knew that it would be well that he should if possible get the -subject off his mind during the day, and therefore went out among the -people who certainly would not talk to him about the ballot. He sat -for nearly an hour in the morning with Mr. Low, and did not even tell -Mr. Low that it was his intention to speak on that day. Then he made -one or two other calls, and at about three went up to Portman Square -to look for Lord Chiltern. It was now nearly the end of February, and -Phineas had often seen Lady Laura. He had not seen her brother, but -had learned from his sister that he had been driven up to London by -the frost, He was told by the porter at Lord Brentford's that Lord -Chiltern was in the house, and as he was passing through the hall he -met Lord Brentford himself. He was thus driven to speak, and felt -himself called upon to explain why he was there. "I am come to see -Lord Chiltern," he said. - -"Is Lord Chiltern in the house?" said the Earl, turning to the -servant. - -"Yes, my lord; his lordship arrived last night." - -"You will find him upstairs, I suppose," said the Earl. "For myself -I know nothing of him." He spoke in an angry tone, as though he -resented the fact that any one should come to his house to call upon -his son; and turned his back quickly upon Phineas. But he thought -better of it before he reached the front door, and turned again. -"By-the-bye," said he, "what majority shall we have to-night, Finn?" - -"Pretty nearly as many as you please to name, my lord," said Phineas. - -"Well;--yes; I suppose we are tolerably safe. You ought to speak upon -it." - -"Perhaps I may," said Phineas, feeling that he blushed as he spoke. - -"Do," said the Earl. "Do. If you see Lord Chiltern will you tell him -from me that I should be glad to see him before he leaves London. I -shall be at home till noon to-morrow." Phineas, much astonished at -the commission given to him, of course said that he would do as he -was desired, and then passed on to Lord Chiltern's apartments. - -He found his friend standing in the middle of the room, without coat -and waistcoat, with a pair of dumb-bells in his hands. "When there's -no hunting I'm driven to this kind of thing," said Lord Chiltern. - -"I suppose it's good exercise," said Phineas. - -"And it gives me something to do. When I'm in London I feel like a -gipsy in church, till the time comes for prowling out at night. I've -no occupation for my days whatever, and no place to which I can take -myself. I can't stand in a club window as some men do, and I should -disgrace any decent club if I did stand there. I belong to the -Travellers, but I doubt whether the porter would let me go in." - -"I think you pique yourself on being more of an outer Bohemian than -you are," said Phineas. - -"I pique myself on this, that whether Bohemian or not, I will go -nowhere that I am not wanted. Though,--for the matter of that, I -suppose I'm not wanted here." Then Phineas gave him the message from -his father. "He wishes to see me to-morrow morning?" continued Lord -Chiltern. "Let him send me word what it is he has to say to me. I do -not choose to be insulted by him, though he is my father." - -"I would certainly go, if I were you." - -"I doubt it very much, if all the circumstances were the same. Let -him tell me what he wants." - -"Of course I cannot ask him, Chiltern." - -"I know what he wants very well. Laura has been interfering and doing -no good. You know Violet Effingham?" - -"Yes; I know her," said Phineas, much surprised. - -"They want her to marry me." - -"And you do not wish to marry her?" - -"I did not say that. But do you think that such a girl as Miss -Effingham would marry such a man as I am? She would be much more -likely to take you. By George, she would! Do you know that she has -three thousand a year of her own?" - -"I know that she has money." - -"That's about the tune of it. I would take her without a shilling -to-morrow, if she would have me,--because I like her. She is the only -girl I ever did like. But what is the use of my liking her? They have -painted me so black among them, especially my father, that no decent -girl would think of marrying me." - -"Your father can't be angry with you if you do your best to comply -with his wishes." - -"I don't care a straw whether he be angry or not. He allows me eight -hundred a year, and he knows that if he stopped it I should go to the -Jews the next day. I could not help myself. He can't leave an acre -away from me, and yet he won't join me in raising money for the sake -of paying Laura her fortune." - -"Lady Laura can hardly want money now." - -"That detestable prig whom she has chosen to marry, and whom I -hate with all my heart, is richer than ever Croesus was; but -nevertheless Laura ought to have her own money. She shall have it -some day." - -"I would see Lord Brentford, if I were you." - -"I will think about it. Now tell me about coming down to Willingford. -Laura says you will come some day in March. I can mount you for a -couple of days and should be delighted to have you. My horses all -pull like the mischief, and rush like devils, and want a deal of -riding; but an Irishman likes that." - -"I do not dislike it particularly." - -"I like it. I prefer to have something to do on horseback. When -a man tells me that a horse is an armchair, I always tell him to -put the brute into his bedroom. Mind you come. The house I stay -at is called the Willingford Bull, and it's just four miles from -Peterborough." Phineas swore that he would go down and ride the -pulling horses, and then took his leave, earnestly advising Lord -Chiltern, as he went, to keep the appointment proposed by his father. - -When the morning came, at half-past eleven, the son, who had been -standing for half an hour with his back to the fire in the large -gloomy dining-room, suddenly rang the bell. "Tell the Earl," he said -to the servant, "that I am here and will go to him if he wishes it." -The servant came back, and said that the Earl was waiting. Then Lord -Chiltern strode after the man into his father's room. - -"Oswald," said the father, "I have sent for you because I think it -may be as well to speak to you on some business. Will you sit down?" -Lord Chiltern sat down, but did not answer a word. "I feel very -unhappy about your sister's fortune," said the Earl. - -"So do I,--very unhappy. We can raise the money between us, and pay -her to-morrow, if you please it." - -"It was in opposition to my advice that she paid your debts." - -"And in opposition to mine too." - -"I told her that I would not pay them, and were I to give her back -to-morrow, as you say, the money that she has so used, I should be -stultifying myself. But I will do so on one condition. I will join -with you in raising the money for your sister, on one condition." - -"What is that?" - -"Laura tells me,--indeed she has told me often,--that you are -attached to Violet Effingham." - -"But Violet Effingham, my lord, is unhappily not attached to me." - -"I do not know how that may be. Of course I cannot say. I have never -taken the liberty of interrogating her upon the subject." - -"Even you, my lord, could hardly have done that." - -"What do you mean by that? I say that I never have," said the Earl, -angrily. - -"I simply mean that even you could hardly have asked Miss Effingham -such a question. I have asked her, and she has refused me." - -"But girls often do that, and yet accept afterwards the men whom they -have refused. Laura tells me that she believes that Violet would -consent if you pressed your suit." - -"Laura knows nothing about it, my lord." - -"There you are probably wrong. Laura and Violet are very close -friends, and have no doubt discussed this matter between them. At any -rate, it may be as well that you should hear what I have to say. Of -course I shall not interfere myself. There is no ground on which I -can do so with propriety." - -"None whatever," said Lord Chiltern. - -The Earl became very angry, and nearly broke down in his anger. He -paused for a moment, feeling disposed to tell his son to go and never -to see him again. But he gulped down his wrath, and went on with his -speech. "My meaning, sir, is this;--that I have so great faith in -Violet Effingham, that I would receive her acceptance of your hand as -the only proof which would be convincing to me of amendment in your -mode of life. If she were to do so, I would join with you in raising -money to pay your sister, would make some further sacrifice with -reference to an income for you and your wife, and--would make you -both welcome to Saulsby,--if you chose to come." The Earl's voice -hesitated much and became almost tremulous as he made the last -proposition. And his eyes had fallen away from his son's gaze, and -he had bent a little over the table, and was moved. But he recovered -himself at once, and added, with all proper dignity, "If you have -anything to say I shall be glad to hear it." - -"All your offers would be nothing, my lord, if I did not like the -girl." - -"I should not ask you to marry a girl if you did not like her, as you -call it." - -"But as to Miss Effingham, it happens that our wishes jump together. -I have asked her, and she has refused me. I don't even know where -to find her to ask her again. If I went to Lady Baldock's house the -servants would not let me in." - -"And whose fault is that?" - -"Yours partly, my lord. You have told everybody that I am the devil, -and now all the old women believe it." - -"I never told anybody so." - -"I'll tell you what I'll do. I will go down to Lady Baldock's to-day. -I suppose she is at Baddingham. And if I can get speech of Miss -Effingham--" - -"Miss Effingham is not at Baddingham. Miss Effingham is staying with -your sister in Grosvenor Place. I saw her yesterday." - -"She is in London?" - -"I tell you that I saw her yesterday." - -"Very well, my lord. Then I will do the best I can. Laura will tell -you of the result." - -The father would have given the son some advice as to the mode in -which he should put forward his claim upon Violet's hand, but the son -would not wait to hear it. Choosing to presume that the conference -was over, he went back to the room in which he had kept his -dumb-bells, and for a minute or two went to work at his favourite -exercise. But he soon put the dumb-bells down, and began to prepare -himself for his work. If this thing was to be done, it might as -well be done at once. He looked out of his window, and saw that the -streets were in a mess of slush. White snow was becoming black mud, -as it will do in London; and the violence of frost was giving way to -the horrors of thaw. All would be soft and comparatively pleasant in -Northamptonshire on the following morning, and if everything went -right he would breakfast at the Willingford Bull. He would go down by -the hunting train, and be at the inn by ten. The meet was only six -miles distant, and all would be pleasant. He would do this whatever -might be the result of his work to-day;--but in the meantime he would -go and do his work. He had a cab called, and within half an hour of -the time at which he had left his father, he was at the door of his -sister's house in Grosvenor Place. The servants told him that the -ladies were at lunch. "I can't eat lunch," he said. "Tell them that I -am in the drawing-room." - -"He has come to see you," said Lady Laura, as soon as the servant had -left the room. - -"I hope not," said Violet. - -"Do not say that." - -"But I do say it. I hope he has not come to see me;--that is, not to -see me specially. Of course I cannot pretend not to know what you -mean." - -"He may think it civil to call if he has heard that you are in town," -said Lady Laura, after a pause. - -"If it be only that, I will be civil in return;--as sweet as May to -him. If it be really only that, and if I were sure of it, I should -be really glad to see him." Then they finished their lunch, and Lady -Laura got up and led the way to the drawing-room. - -"I hope you remember," said she, gravely, "that you might be a -saviour to him." - -"I do not believe in girls being saviours to men. It is the man who -should be the saviour to the girl. If I marry at all, I have the -right to expect that protection shall be given to me,--not that I -shall have to give it." - -"Violet, you are determined to misrepresent what I mean." - -Lord Chiltern was walking about the room, and did not sit down when -they entered. The ordinary greetings took place, and Miss Effingham -made some remark about the frost. "But it seems to be going," she -said, "and I suppose that you will soon be at work again?" - -"Yes;--I shall hunt to-morrow," said Lord Chiltern. - -"And the next day, and the next, and the next," said Violet, "till -about the middle of April;--and then your period of misery will -begin!" - -"Exactly," said Lord Chiltern. "I have nothing but hunting that I can -call an occupation." - -"Why don't you make one?" said his sister. - -"I mean to do so, if it be possible. Laura, would you mind leaving me -and Miss Effingham alone for a few minutes?" - -Lady Laura got up, and so also did Miss Effingham. "For what -purpose?" said the latter. "It cannot be for any good purpose." - -"At any rate I wish it, and I will not harm you." Lady Laura was now -going, but paused before she reached the door. "Laura, will you do as -I ask you?" said the brother. Then Lady Laura went. - -"It was not that I feared you would harm me, Lord Chiltern," said -Violet. - -"No;--I know it was not. But what I say is always said awkwardly. An -hour ago I did not know that you were in town, but when I was told -the news I came at once. My father told me." - -"I am so glad that you see your father." - -"I have not spoken to him for months before, and probably may not -speak to him for months again. But there is one point, Violet, on -which he and I agree." - -"I hope there will soon be many." - -"It is possible,--but I fear not probable. Look here, Violet,"--and -he looked at her with all his eyes, till it seemed to her that he was -all eyes, so great was the intensity of his gaze;--"I should scorn -myself were I to permit myself to come before you with a plea for -your favour founded on my father's whims. My father is unreasonable, -and has been very unjust to me. He has ever believed evil of me, and -has believed it often when all the world knew that he was wrong. I -care little for being reconciled to a father who has been so cruel to -me." - -"He loves me dearly, and is my friend. I would rather that you should -not speak against him to me." - -"You will understand, at least, that I am asking nothing from you -because he wishes it. Laura probably has told you that you may make -things straight by becoming my wife." - -"She has,--certainly, Lord Chiltern." - -"It is an argument that she should never have used. It is an argument -to which you should not listen for a moment. Make things straight -indeed! Who can tell? There would be very little made straight by -such a marriage, if it were not that I loved you. Violet, that is -my plea, and my only one. I love you so well that I do believe that -if you took me I should return to the old ways, and become as other -men are, and be in time as respectable, as stupid,--and perhaps as -ill-natured as old Lady Baldock herself." - -"My poor aunt!" - -"You know she says worse things of me than that. Now, dearest, you -have heard all that I have to say to you." As he spoke he came close -to her, and put out his hand,--but she did not touch it. "I have no -other argument to use,--not a word more to say. As I came here in -the cab I was turning it over in my mind that I might find what best -I should say. But, after all, there is nothing more to be said than -that." - -"The words make no difference," she replied. - -"Not unless they be so uttered as to force a belief. I do love you. I -know no other reason but that why you should be my wife. I have no -other excuse to offer for coming to you again. You are the one thing -in the world that to me has any charm. Can you be surprised that I -should be persistent in asking for it?" He was looking at her still -with the same gaze, and there seemed to be a power in his eye from -which she could not escape. He was still standing with his right hand -out, as though expecting, or at least hoping, that her hand might be -put into his. - -"How am I to answer you?" she said. - -"With your love, if you can give it to me. Do you remember how you -swore once that you would love me for ever and always?" - -"You should not remind me of that. I was a child then,--a naughty -child," she added, smiling; "and was put to bed for what I did on -that day." - -"Be a child still." - -"Ah, if we but could!" - -"And have you no other answer to make me?" - -"Of course I must answer you. You are entitled to an answer. Lord -Chiltern, I am sorry that I cannot give you the love for which you -ask." - -"Never?" - -"Never." - -"Is it myself personally, or what you have heard of me, that is so -hateful to you?" - -"Nothing is hateful to me. I have never spoken of hate. I shall -always feel the strongest regard for my old friend and playfellow. -But there are many things which a woman is bound to consider before -she allows herself so to love a man that she can consent to become -his wife." - -"Allow herself! Then it is a matter entirely of calculation." - -"I suppose there should be some thought in it, Lord Chiltern." - -There was now a pause, and the man's hand was at last allowed to -drop, as there came no response to the proffered grasp. He walked -once or twice across the room before he spoke again, and then he -stopped himself closely opposite to her. - -"I shall never try again," he said. - -"It will be better so," she replied. - -"There is something to me unmanly in a man's persecuting a girl. Just -tell Laura, will you, that it is all over; and she may as well tell -my father. Good-bye." - -She then tendered her hand to him, but he did not take it,--probably -did not see it, and at once left the room and the house. - -"And yet I believe you love him," Lady Laura said to her friend -in her anger, when they discussed the matter immediately on Lord -Chiltern's departure. - -"You have no right to say that, Laura." - -"I have a right to my belief, and I do believe it. I think you love -him, and that you lack the courage to risk yourself in trying to save -him." - -"Is a woman bound to marry a man if she love him?" - -"Yes, she is," replied Lady Laura impetuously, without thinking of -what she was saying; "that is, if she be convinced that she also is -loved." - -"Whatever be the man's character;--whatever be the circumstances? -Must she do so, whatever friends may say to the contrary? Is there to -be no prudence in marriage?" - -"There may be a great deal too much prudence," said Lady Laura. - -"That is true. There is certainly too much prudence if a woman -marries prudently, but without love." Violet intended by this no -attack upon her friend,--had not had present in her mind at the -moment any idea of Lady Laura's special prudence in marrying Mr. -Kennedy; but Lady Laura felt it keenly, and knew at once that an -arrow had been shot which had wounded her. - -"We shall get nothing," she said, "by descending to personalities -with each other." - -"I meant none, Laura." - -"I suppose it is always hard," said Lady Laura, "for any one person -to judge altogether of the mind of another. If I have said anything -severe of your refusal of my brother, I retract it. I only wish that -it could have been otherwise." - -Lord Chiltern, when he left his sister's house, walked through the -slush and dirt to a haunt of his in the neighbourhood of Covent -Garden, and there he remained through the whole afternoon and -evening. A certain Captain Clutterbuck joined him, and dined with -him. He told nothing to Captain Clutterbuck of his sorrow, but -Captain Clutterbuck could see that he was unhappy. - -"Let's have another bottle of 'cham,'" said Captain Clutterbuck, when -their dinner was nearly over. "'Cham' is the only thing to screw one -up when one is down a peg." - -"You can have what you like," said Lord Chiltern; "but I shall have -some brandy-and-water." - -"The worst of brandy-and-water is, that one gets tired of it before -the night is over," said Captain Clutterbuck. - -Nevertheless, Lord Chiltern did go down to Peterborough the next day -by the hunting train, and rode his horse Bonebreaker so well in that -famous run from Sutton springs to Gidding that after the run young -Piles,--of the house of Piles, Sarsnet, and Gingham,--offered him -three hundred pounds for the animal. - -"He isn't worth above fifty," said Lord Chiltern. - -"But I'll give you the three hundred," said Piles. - -"You couldn't ride him if you'd got him," said Lord Chiltern. - -"Oh, couldn't I!" said Piles. But Mr. Piles did not continue the -conversation, contenting himself with telling his friend Grogram that -that red devil Chiltern was as drunk as a lord. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -The Debate on the Ballot - - -Phineas took his seat in the House with a consciousness of much -inward trepidation of heart on that night of the ballot debate. After -leaving Lord Chiltern he went down to his club and dined alone. Three -or four men came and spoke to him; but he could not talk to them at -his ease, nor did he quite know what they were saying to him. He -was going to do something which he longed to achieve, but the very -idea of which, now that it was so near to him, was a terror to him. -To be in the House and not to speak would, to his thinking, be a -disgraceful failure. Indeed, he could not continue to keep his seat -unless he spoke. He had been put there that he might speak. He would -speak. Of course he would speak. Had he not already been conspicuous -almost as a boy orator? And yet, at this moment he did not know -whether he was eating mutton or beef, or who was standing opposite to -him and talking to him, so much was he in dread of the ordeal which -he had prepared for himself. As he went down to the House after -dinner, he almost made up his mind that it would be a good thing to -leave London by one of the night mail trains. He felt himself to be -stiff and stilted as he walked, and that his clothes were uneasy to -him. When he turned into Westminster Hall he regretted more keenly -than ever he had done that he had seceded from the keeping of Mr. -Low. He could, he thought, have spoken very well in court, and would -there have learned that self-confidence which now failed him so -terribly. It was, however, too late to think of that. He could only -go in and take his seat. - -He went in and took his seat, and the chamber seemed to him to be -mysteriously large, as though benches were crowded over benches, and -galleries over galleries. He had been long enough in the House to -have lost the original awe inspired by the Speaker and the clerks of -the House, by the row of Ministers, and by the unequalled importance -of the place. On ordinary occasions he could saunter in and out, and -whisper at his ease to a neighbour. But on this occasion he went -direct to the bench on which he ordinarily sat, and began at once to -rehearse to himself his speech. He had in truth been doing this all -day, in spite of the effort that he had made to rid himself of all -memory of the occasion. He had been collecting the heads of his -speech while Mr. Low had been talking to him, and refreshing his -quotations in the presence of Lord Chiltern and the dumb-bells. He -had taxed his memory and his intellect with various tasks, which, -as he feared, would not adjust themselves one with another. He had -learned the headings of his speech,--so that one heading might follow -the other, and nothing be forgotten. And he had learned verbatim the -words which he intended to utter under each heading,--with a hope -that if any one compact part should be destroyed or injured in its -compactness by treachery of memory, or by the course of the debate, -each other compact part might be there in its entirety, ready for -use;--or at least so many of the compact parts as treachery of -memory and the accidents of the debate might leave to him; so -that his speech might be like a vessel, watertight in its various -compartments, that would float by the buoyancy of its stern and bow, -even though the hold should be waterlogged. But this use of his -composed words, even though he should be able to carry it through, -would not complete his work;--for it would be his duty to answer in -some sort those who had gone before him, and in order to do this he -must be able to insert, without any prearrangement of words or ideas, -little intercalatory parts between those compact masses of argument -with which he had been occupying himself for many laborious hours. As -he looked round upon the House and perceived that everything was dim -before him, that all his original awe of the House had returned, and -with it a present quaking fear that made him feel the pulsations -of his own heart, he became painfully aware that the task he had -prepared for himself was too great. He should, on this the occasion -of his rising to his maiden legs, have either prepared for himself -a short general speech, which could indeed have done little for his -credit in the House, but which might have served to carry off the -novelty of the thing, and have introduced him to the sound of his own -voice within those walls,--or he should have trusted to what his wit -and spirit would produce for him on the spur of the moment, and not -have burdened himself with a huge exercise of memory. During the -presentation of a few petitions he tried to repeat to himself the -first of his compact parts,--a compact part on which, as it might -certainly be brought into use let the debate have gone as it might, -he had expended great care. He had flattered himself that there -was something of real strength in his words as he repeated them to -himself in the comfortable seclusion of his own room, and he had made -them so ready to his tongue that he thought it to be impossible that -he should forget even an intonation. Now he found that he could not -remember the first phrases without unloosing and looking at a small -roll of paper which he held furtively in his hand. What was the good -of looking at it? He would forget it again in the next moment. He had -intended to satisfy the most eager of his friends, and to astound his -opponents. As it was, no one would be satisfied,--and none astounded -but they who had trusted in him. - -The debate began, and if the leisure afforded by a long and tedious -speech could have served him, he might have had leisure enough. He -tried at first to follow all that this advocate for the ballot might -say, hoping thence to acquire the impetus of strong interest; but he -soon wearied of the work, and began to long that the speech might -be ended, although the period of his own martyrdom would thereby -be brought nearer to him. At half-past seven so many members had -deserted their seats, that Phineas began to think that he might be -saved all further pains by a "count out." He reckoned the members -present and found that they were below the mystic forty,--first by -two, then by four, by five, by seven, and at one time by eleven. -It was not for him to ask the Speaker to count the House, but he -wondered that no one else should do so. And yet, as the idea of this -termination to the night's work came upon him, and as he thought of -his lost labour, he almost took courage again,--almost dreaded rather -than wished for the interference of some malicious member. But there -was no malicious member then present, or else it was known that Lords -of the Treasury and Lords of the Admiralty would flock in during -the Speaker's ponderous counting,--and thus the slow length of the -ballot-lover's verbosity was permitted to evolve itself without -interruption. At eight o'clock he had completed his catalogue of -illustrations, and immediately Mr. Monk rose from the Treasury bench -to explain the grounds on which the Government must decline to -support the motion before the House. - -Phineas was aware that Mr. Monk intended to speak, and was aware also -that his speech would be very short. "My idea is," he had said to -Phineas, "that every man possessed of the franchise should dare to -have and to express a political opinion of his own; that otherwise -the franchise is not worth having; and that men will learn that when -all so dare, no evil can come from such daring. As the ballot would -make any courage of that kind unnecessary, I dislike the ballot. I -shall confine myself to that, and leave the illustration to younger -debaters." Phineas also had been informed that Mr. Turnbull would -reply to Mr. Monk, with the purpose of crushing Mr. Monk into dust, -and Phineas had prepared his speech with something of an intention of -subsequently crushing Mr. Turnbull. He knew, however, that he could -not command his opportunity. There was the chapter of accidents to -which he must accommodate himself; but such had been his programme -for the evening. - -Mr. Monk made his speech,--and though he was short, he was very fiery -and energetic. Quick as lightning words of wrath and scorn flew from -him, in which he painted the cowardice, the meanness, the falsehood -of the ballot. "The ballot-box," he said, "was the grave of all true -political opinion." Though he spoke hardly for ten minutes, he seemed -to say more than enough, ten times enough, to slaughter the argument -of the former speaker. At every hot word as it fell Phineas was -driven to regret that a paragraph of his own was taken away from him, -and that his choicest morsels of standing ground were being cut from -under his feet. When Mr. Monk sat down, Phineas felt that Mr. Monk -had said all that he, Phineas Finn, had intended to say. - -Then Mr. Turnbull rose slowly from the bench below the gangway. With -a speaker so frequent and so famous as Mr. Turnbull no hurry is -necessary. He is sure to have his opportunity. The Speaker's eye is -ever travelling to the accustomed spots. Mr. Turnbull rose slowly and -began his oration very mildly. "There was nothing," he said, "that he -admired so much as the poetic imagery and the high-flown sentiment -of his right honourable friend the member for West Bromwich,"--Mr. -Monk sat for West Bromwich,--"unless it were the stubborn facts and -unanswered arguments of his honourable friend who had brought forward -this motion." Then Mr. Turnbull proceeded after his fashion to crush -Mr. Monk. He was very prosaic, very clear both in voice and language, -very harsh, and very unscrupulous. He and Mr. Monk had been joined -together in politics for over twenty years;--but one would have -thought, from Mr. Turnbull's words, that they had been the bitterest -of enemies. Mr. Monk was taunted with his office, taunted with his -desertion of the liberal party, taunted with his ambition,--and -taunted with his lack of ambition. "I once thought," said Mr. -Turnbull,--"nay, not long ago I thought, that he and I would have -fought this battle for the people, shoulder to shoulder, and knee to -knee;--but he has preferred that the knee next to his own shall wear -a garter, and that the shoulder which supports him shall be decked -with a blue ribbon,--as shoulders, I presume, are decked in those -closet conferences which are called Cabinets." - -Just after this, while Mr. Turnbull was still going on with a variety -of illustrations drawn from the United States, Barrington Erle -stepped across the benches up to the place where Phineas was sitting, -and whispered a few words into his ear. "Bonteen is prepared to -answer Turnbull, and wishes to do it. I told him that I thought you -should have the opportunity, if you wish it." Phineas was not ready -with a reply to Erle at the spur of the moment. "Somebody told -me," continued Erle, "that you had said that you would like to speak -to-night." - -"So I did," said Phineas. - -"Shall I tell Bonteen that you will do it?" - -The chamber seemed to swim round before our hero's eyes. Mr. Turnbull -was still going on with his clear, loud, unpleasant voice, but there -was no knowing how long he might go on. Upon Phineas, if he should -now consent, might devolve the duty, within ten minutes, within three -minutes, of rising there before a full House to defend his great -friend, Mr. Monk, from a gross personal attack. Was it fit that -such a novice as he should undertake such a work as that? Were he -to do so, all that speech which he had prepared, with its various -self-floating parts, must go for nothing. The task was exactly that -which, of all tasks, he would best like to have accomplished, and -to have accomplished well. But if he should fail! And he felt that -he would fail. For such work a man should have all his senses -about him,--his full courage, perfect confidence, something almost -approaching to contempt for listening opponents, and nothing of fear -in regard to listening friends. He should be as a cock in his own -farmyard, master of all the circumstances around him. But Phineas -Finn had not even as yet heard the sound of his own voice in that -room. At this moment, so confused was he, that he did not know where -sat Mr. Mildmay, and where Mr. Daubeny. All was confused, and there -arose as it were a sound of waters in his ears, and a feeling as of a -great hell around him. "I had rather wait," he said at last. "Bonteen -had better reply." Barrington Erle looked into his face, and then -stepping back across the benches, told Mr. Bonteen that the -opportunity was his. - -Mr. Turnbull continued speaking quite long enough to give poor -Phineas time for repentance; but repentance was of no use. He had -decided against himself, and his decision could not be reversed. He -would have left the House, only it seemed to him that had he done so -every one would look at him. He drew his hat down over his eyes, and -remained in his place, hating Mr. Bonteen, hating Barrington Erle, -hating Mr. Turnbull,--but hating no one so much as he hated himself. -He had disgraced himself for ever and could never recover the -occasion which he had lost. - -Mr. Bonteen's speech was in no way remarkable. Mr. Monk, he said, had -done the State good service by adding his wisdom and patriotism to -the Cabinet. The sort of argument which Mr. Bonteen used to prove -that a man who has gained credit as a legislator should in process of -time become a member of the executive, is trite and common, and was -not used by Mr. Bonteen with any special force. Mr. Bonteen was glib -of tongue and possessed that familiarity with the place which poor -Phineas had lacked so sorely. There was one moment, however, which -was terrible to Phineas. As soon as Mr. Bonteen had shown the purpose -for which he was on his legs, Mr. Monk looked round at Phineas, as -though in reproach. He had expected that this work should fall into -the hands of one who would perform it with more warmth of heart than -could be expected from Mr. Bonteen. When Mr. Bonteen ceased, two or -three other short speeches were made and members fired off their -little guns. Phineas having lost so great an opportunity, would not -now consent to accept one that should be comparatively valueless. -Then there came a division. The motion was lost by a large -majority,--by any number you might choose to name, as Phineas had -said to Lord Brentford; but in that there was no triumph to the poor -wretch who had failed through fear, and who was now a coward in his -own esteem. - -He left the House alone, carefully avoiding all speech with any one. -As he came out he had seen Laurence Fitzgibbon in the lobby, but he -had gone on without pausing a moment, so that he might avoid his -friend. And when he was out in Palace Yard, where was he to go next? -He looked at his watch, and found that it was just ten. He did not -dare to go to his club, and it was impossible for him to go home and -to bed. He was very miserable, and nothing would comfort him but -sympathy. Was there any one who would listen to his abuse of himself, -and would then answer him with kindly apologies for his own weakness? -Mrs. Bunce would do it if she knew how, but sympathy from Mrs. Bunce -would hardly avail. There was but one person in the world to whom he -could tell his own humiliation with any hope of comfort, and that -person was Lady Laura Kennedy. Sympathy from any man would have been -distasteful to him. He had thought for a moment of flinging himself -at Mr. Monk's feet and telling all his weakness;--but he could not -have endured pity even from Mr. Monk. It was not to be endured from -any man. - -He thought that Lady Laura Kennedy would be at home, and probably -alone. He knew, at any rate, that he might be allowed to knock at her -door, even at that hour. He had left Mr. Kennedy in the House, and -there he would probably remain for the next hour. There was no man -more constant than Mr. Kennedy in seeing the work of the day,--or of -the night,--to its end. So Phineas walked up Victoria Street, and -from thence into Grosvenor Place, and knocked at Lady Laura's door. -"Yes; Lady Laura was at home; and alone." He was shown up into the -drawing-room, and there he found Lady Laura waiting for her husband. - -"So the great debate is over," she said, with as much of irony as she -knew how to throw into the epithet. - -"Yes; it is over." - -"And what have they done,--those leviathans of the people?" - -Then Phineas told her what was the majority. - -"Is there anything the matter with you, Mr. Finn?" she said, looking -at him suddenly. "Are you not well?" - -"Yes; I am very well." - -"Will you not sit down? There is something wrong, I know. What is -it?" - -"I have simply been the greatest idiot, the greatest coward, the most -awkward ass that ever lived!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I do not know why I should come to tell you of it at this hour at -night, but I have come that I might tell you. Probably because there -is no one else in the whole world who would not laugh at me." - -"At any rate, I shall not laugh at you," said Lady Laura. - -"But you will despise me." - -"That I am sure I shall not do." - -"You cannot help it. I despise myself. For years I have placed before -myself the ambition of speaking in the House of Commons;--for years I -have been thinking whether there would ever come to me an opportunity -of making myself heard in that assembly, which I consider to be -the first in the world. To-day the opportunity has been offered to -me,--and, though the motion was nothing, the opportunity was great. -The subject was one on which I was thoroughly prepared. The manner -in which I was summoned was most flattering to me. I was especially -called on to perform a task which was most congenial to my -feelings;--and I declined because I was afraid." - -"You had thought too much about it, my friend," said Lady Laura. - -"Too much or too little, what does it matter?" replied Phineas, in -despair. "There is the fact. I could not do it. Do you remember the -story of Conachar in the 'Fair Maid of Perth;'--how his heart refused -to give him blood enough to fight? He had been suckled with the milk -of a timid creature, and, though he could die, there was none of the -strength of manhood in him. It is about the same thing with me, I -take it." - -"I do not think you are at all like Conachar," said Lady Laura. - -"I am equally disgraced, and I must perish after the same fashion. I -shall apply for the Chiltern Hundreds in a day or two." - -"You will do nothing of the kind," said Lady Laura, getting up from -her chair and coming towards him. "You shall not leave this room till -you have promised me that you will do nothing of the kind. I do not -know as yet what has occurred to-night; but I do know that that -modesty which has kept you silent is more often a grace than a -disgrace." - -This was the kind of sympathy which he wanted, She drew her chair -nearer to him, and then he explained to her as accurately as he could -what had taken place in the House on this evening,--how he had -prepared his speech, how he had felt that his preparation was vain, -how he perceived from the course of the debate that if he spoke -at all his speech must be very different from what he had first -intended; how he had declined to take upon himself a task which -seemed to require so close a knowledge of the ways of the House and -of the temper of the men, as the defence of such a man as Mr. Monk. -In accusing himself he, unconsciously, excused himself, and his -excuse, in Lady Laura's ears, was more valid than his accusation. - -"And you would give it all up for that?" she said. - -"Yes; I think I ought." - -"I have very little doubt but that you were right in allowing Mr. -Bonteen to undertake such a task. I should simply explain to Mr. Monk -that you felt too keen an interest in his welfare to stand up as an -untried member in his defence. It is not, I think, the work for a man -who is not at home in the House. I am sure Mr. Monk will feel this, -and I am quite certain that Mr. Kennedy will think that you have been -right." - -"I do not care what Mr. Kennedy may think." - -"Why do you say that, Mr. Finn? That is not courteous." - -"Simply because I care so much what Mr. Kennedy's wife may think. -Your opinion is all in all to me,--only that I know you are too kind -to me." - -"He would not be too kind to you. He is never too kind to any one. He -is justice itself." - -Phineas, as he heard the tones of her voice, could not but feel that -there was in Lady Laura's words something of an accusation against -her husband. - -"I hate justice," said Phineas. "I know that justice would condemn -me. But love and friendship know nothing of justice. The value of -love is that it overlooks faults, and forgives even crimes." - -"I, at any rate," said Lady Laura, "will forgive the crime of your -silence in the House. My strong belief in your success will not be in -the least affected by what you tell me of your failure to-night. You -must await another opportunity; and, if possible, you should be less -anxious as to your own performance. There is Violet." As Lady Laura -spoke the last words, there was a sound of a carriage stopping in the -street, and the front door was immediately opened. "She is staying -here, but has been dining with her uncle, Admiral Effingham." Then -Violet Effingham entered the room, rolled up in pretty white furs, -and silk cloaks, and lace shawls. "Here is Mr. Finn, come to tell us -of the debate about the ballot." - -"I don't care twopence about the ballot," said Violet, as she put out -her hand to Phineas. "Are we going to have a new iron fleet built? -That's the question." - -"Sir Simeon has come out strong to-night," said Lady Laura. - -"There is no political question of any importance except the question -of the iron fleet," said Violet. "I am quite sure of that, and so, if -Mr. Finn can tell me nothing about the iron fleet, I'll go to bed." - -"Mr. Kennedy will tell you everything when he comes home," said -Phineas. - -"Oh, Mr. Kennedy! Mr. Kennedy never tells one anything. I doubt -whether Mr. Kennedy thinks that any woman knows the meaning of the -British Constitution." - -"Do you know what it means, Violet?" asked Lady Laura. - -"To be sure I do. It is liberty to growl about the iron fleet, or -the ballot, or the taxes, or the peers, or the bishops,--or anything -else, except the House of Commons. That's the British Constitution. -Good-night, Mr. Finn." - -"What a beautiful creature she is!" said Phineas. - -"Yes, indeed," said Lady Laura. - -"And full of wit and grace and pleasantness. I do not wonder at your -brother's choice." - -It will be remembered that this was said on the day before Lord -Chiltern had made his offer for the third time. - -"Poor Oswald! he does not know as yet that she is in town." - -After that Phineas went, not wishing to await the return of Mr. -Kennedy. He had felt that Violet Effingham had come into the room -just in time to remedy a great difficulty. He did not wish to speak -of his love to a married woman,--to the wife of the man who called -him friend,--to a woman who he felt sure would have rebuked him. But -he could hardly have restrained himself had not Miss Effingham been -there. - -But as he went home he thought more of Miss Effingham than he did of -Lady Laura; and I think that the voice of Miss Effingham had done -almost as much towards comforting him as had the kindness of the -other. - -At any rate, he had been comforted. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -"Do be punctual" - - -On the very morning after his failure in the House of Commons, when -Phineas was reading in the _Telegraph_,--he took the _Telegraph_ not -from choice but for economy,--the words of that debate which he had -heard and in which he should have taken a part, a most unwelcome -visit was paid to him. It was near eleven, and the breakfast things -were still on the table. He was at this time on a Committee of the -House with reference to the use of potted peas in the army and -navy, at which he had sat once,--at a preliminary meeting,--and in -reference to which he had already resolved that as he had failed so -frightfully in debate, he would certainly do his duty to the utmost -in the more easy but infinitely more tedious work of the Committee -Room. The Committee met at twelve, and he intended to walk down to -the Reform Club, and then to the House. He had just completed his -reading of the debate and of the leaders in the _Telegraph_ on the -subject. He had told himself how little the writer of the article -knew about Mr. Turnbull, how little about Mr. Monk, and how little -about the people,--such being his own ideas as to the qualifications -of the writer of that leading article,--and was about to start. But -Mrs. Bunce arrested him by telling him that there was a man below who -wanted to see him. - -"What sort of a man, Mrs. Bunce?" - -"He ain't a gentleman, sir." - -"Did he give his name?" - -"He did not, sir; but I know it's about money. I know the ways of -them so well. I've seen this one's face before somewhere." - -"You had better show him up," said Phineas. He knew well the business -on which the man was come. The man wanted money for that bill which -Laurence Fitzgibbon had sent afloat, and which Phineas had endorsed. -Phineas had never as yet fallen so deeply into troubles of money as -to make it necessary that he need refuse himself to any callers on -that score, and he did not choose to do so now. Nevertheless he most -heartily wished that he had left his lodgings for the club before the -man had come. This was not the first he had heard of the bill being -overdue and unpaid. The bill had been brought to him noted a month -since, and then he had simply told the youth who brought it that he -would see Mr. Fitzgibbon and have the matter settled. He had spoken -to his friend Laurence, and Laurence had simply assured him that all -should be made right in two days,--or, at furthest, by the end of -a week. Since that time he had observed that his friend had been -somewhat shy of speaking to him when no others were with them. -Phineas would not have alluded to the bill had he and Laurence been -alone together; but he had been quick enough to guess from his -friend's manner that the matter was not settled. Now, no doubt, -serious trouble was about to commence. - -The visitor was a little man with grey hair and a white cravat, some -sixty years of age, dressed in black, with a very decent hat,--which, -on entering the room, he at once put down on the nearest chair,--with -reference to whom, any judge on the subject would have concurred at -first sight in the decision pronounced by Mrs. Bunce, though none -but a judge very well used to sift the causes of his own conclusions -could have given the reasons for that early decision. "He ain't a -gentleman," Mrs. Bunce had said. And the man certainly was not a -gentleman. The old man in the white cravat was very neatly dressed, -and carried himself without any of that humility which betrays one -class of uncertified aspirants to gentility, or of that assumed -arrogance which is at once fatal to another class. But, nevertheless, -Mrs. Bunce had seen at a glance that he was not a gentleman,--had -seen, moreover, that such a man could have come only upon one -mission. She was right there too. This visitor had come about money. - -"About this bill, Mr. Finn," said the visitor, proceeding to take -out of his breast coat-pocket a rather large leathern case, as he -advanced up towards the fire. "My name is Clarkson, Mr. Finn. If I -may venture so far, I'll take a chair." - -"Certainly, Mr. Clarkson," said Phineas, getting up and pointing to -a seat. - -"Thankye, Mr. Finn, thankye. We shall be more comfortable doing -business sitting, shan't we?" Whereupon the horrid little man drew -himself close in to the fire, and spreading out his leathern case -upon his knees, began to turn over one suspicious bit of paper after -another, as though he were uncertain in what part of his portfolio -lay this identical bit which he was seeking. He seemed to be quite -at home, and to feel that there was no ground whatever for hurry -in such comfortable quarters. Phineas hated him at once,--with a -hatred altogether unconnected with the difficulty which his friend -Fitzgibbon had brought upon him. - -"Here it is," said Mr. Clarkson at last. "Oh, dear me, dear me! the -third of November, and here we are in March! I didn't think it was -so bad as this;--I didn't indeed. This is very bad,--very bad! And -for Parliament gents, too, who should be more punctual than anybody, -because of the privilege. Shouldn't they now, Mr. Finn?" - -"All men should be punctual, I suppose," said Phineas. - -"Of course they should; of course they should. I always say to my -gents, 'Be punctual, and I'll do anything for you.' But, perhaps, Mr. -Finn, you can hand me a cheque for this amount, and then you and I -will begin square." - -"Indeed I cannot, Mr. Clarkson." - -"Not hand me a cheque for it!" - -"Upon my word, no." - -"That's very bad;--very bad indeed. Then I suppose I must take the -half, and renew for the remainder, though I don't like it;--I don't -indeed." - -"I can pay no part of that bill, Mr. Clarkson." - -"Pay no part of it!" and Mr. Clarkson, in order that he might the -better express his surprise, arrested his hand in the very act of -poking his host's fire. - -"If you'll allow me, I'll manage the fire," said Phineas, putting out -his hand for the poker. - -But Mr. Clarkson was fond of poking fires, and would not surrender -the poker. "Pay no part of it!" he said again, holding the poker away -from Phineas in his left hand. "Don't say that, Mr. Finn. Pray don't -say that. Don't drive me to be severe. I don't like to be severe with -my gents. I'll do anything, Mr. Finn, if you'll only be punctual." - -"The fact is, Mr. Clarkson, I have never had one penny of -consideration for that bill, and--" - -"Oh, Mr. Finn! oh, Mr. Finn!" and then Mr. Clarkson had his will of -the fire. - -"I never had one penny of consideration for that bill," continued -Phineas. "Of course, I don't deny my responsibility." - -"No, Mr. Finn; you can't deny that. Here it is;--Phineas Finn;--and -everybody knows you, because you're a Parliament gent." - -"I don't deny it. But I had no reason to suppose that I should -be called upon for the money when I accommodated my friend, Mr. -Fitzgibbon, and I have not got it. That is the long and the short -of it. I must see him and take care that arrangements are made." - -"Arrangements!" - -"Yes, arrangements for settling the bill." - -"He hasn't got the money, Mr. Finn. You know that as well as I do." - -"I know nothing about it, Mr. Clarkson." - -"Oh yes, Mr. Finn; you know; you know." - -"I tell you I know nothing about it," said Phineas, waxing angry. - -"As to Mr. Fitzgibbon, he's the pleasantest gent that ever lived. -Isn't he now? I've know'd him these ten years. I don't suppose that -for ten years I've been without his name in my pocket. But, bless -you, Mr. Finn, there's an end to everything. I shouldn't have looked -at this bit of paper if it hadn't been for your signature. Of course -not. You're just beginning, and it's natural you should want a little -help. You'll find me always ready, if you'll only be punctual." - -"I tell you again, sir, that I never had a shilling out of that for -myself, and do not want any such help." Here Mr. Clarkson smiled -sweetly. "I gave my name to my friend simply to oblige him." - -"I like you Irish gents because you do hang together so close," said -Mr. Clarkson. - -"Simply to oblige him," continued Phineas. "As I said before, I know -that I am responsible; but, as I said before also, I have not the -means of taking up that bill. I will see Mr. Fitzgibbon, and let -you know what we propose to do." Then Phineas got up from his seat -and took his hat. It was full time that he should go down to his -Committee. But Mr. Clarkson did not get up from his seat. "I'm afraid -I must ask you to leave me now, Mr. Clarkson, as I have business down -at the House." - -"Business at the House never presses, Mr. Finn," said Mr. Clarkson. -"That's the best of Parliament. I've known Parliament gents this -thirty years and more. Would you believe it--I've had a Prime -Minister's name in that portfolio; that I have; and a Lord -Chancellor's; that I have;--and an Archbishop's too. I know -what Parliament is, Mr. Finn. Come, come; don't put me off with -Parliament." - -There he sat before the fire with his pouch open before him, and -Phineas had no power of moving him. Could Phineas have paid him the -money which was manifestly due to him on the bill, the man would of -course have gone; but failing in that, Phineas could not turn him -out. There was a black cloud on the young member's brow, and great -anger at his heart,--against Fitzgibbon rather than against the man -who was sitting there before him. "Sir," he said, "it is really -imperative that I should go. I am pledged to an appointment at the -House at twelve, and it wants now only a quarter. I regret that your -interview with me should be so unsatisfactory, but I can only promise -you that I will see Mr. Fitzgibbon." - -"And when shall I call again, Mr. Finn?" - -"Perhaps I had better write to you," said Phineas. - -"Oh dear, no," said Mr. Clarkson. "I should much prefer to look in. -Looking in is always best. We can get to understand one another in -that way. Let me see. I daresay you're not particular. Suppose I say -Sunday morning." - -"Really, I could not see you on Sunday morning, Mr. Clarkson." - -"Parliament gents ain't generally particular,--'speciaily not among -the Catholics," pleaded Mr. Clarkson. - -"I am always engaged on Sundays," said Phineas. - -"Suppose we say Monday,--or Tuesday. Tuesday morning at eleven. And -do be punctual, Mr. Finn. At Tuesday morning I'll come, and then no -doubt I shall find you ready." Whereupon Mr. Clarkson slowly put up -his bills within his portfolio, and then, before Phineas knew where -he was, had warmly shaken that poor dismayed member of Parliament by -the hand. "Only do be punctual, Mr. Finn," he said, as he made his -way down the stairs. - -It was now twelve, and Phineas rushed off to a cab. He was in such -a fervour of rage and misery that he could hardly think of his -position, or what he had better do, till he got into the Committee -Room; and when there he could think of nothing else. He intended to -go deeply into the question of potted peas, holding an equal balance -between the assailed Government offices on the one hand, and the -advocates of the potted peas on the other. The potters of the peas, -who wanted to sell their article to the Crown, declared that an -extensive,--perhaps we may say, an unlimited,--use of the article -would save the whole army and navy from the scourges of scurvy, -dyspepsia, and rheumatism, would be the best safeguard against -typhus and other fevers, and would be an invaluable aid in all other -maladies to which soldiers and sailors are peculiarly subject. The -peas in question were grown on a large scale in Holstein, and their -growth had been fostered with the special object of doing good to the -British army and navy. The peas were so cheap that there would be a -great saving in money,--and it really had seemed to many that the -officials of the Horse Guards and the Admiralty had been actuated -by some fiendish desire to deprive their men of salutary fresh -vegetables, simply because they were of foreign growth. But the -officials of the War Office and the Admiralty declared that the -potted peas in question were hardly fit for swine. The motion for the -Committee had been made by a gentleman of the opposition, and Phineas -had been put upon it as an independent member. He had resolved to -give it all his mind, and, as far as he was concerned, to reach a -just decision, in which there should be no favour shown to the -Government side. New brooms are proverbial for thorough work, -and in this Committee work Phineas was as yet a new broom. But, -unfortunately, on this day his mind was so harassed that he could -hardly understand what was going on. It did not, perhaps, much -signify, as the witnesses examined were altogether agricultural. They -only proved the production of peas in Holstein,--a fact as to which -Phineas had no doubt. The proof was naturally slow, as the evidence -was given in German, and had to be translated into English. And -the work of the day was much impeded by a certain member who -unfortunately spoke German, who seemed to be fond of speaking German -before his brethren of the Committee, and who was curious as to -agriculture in Holstein generally. The chairman did not understand -German, and there was a difficulty in checking this gentleman, and -in making him understand that his questions were not relevant to the -issue. - -Phineas could not keep his mind during the whole afternoon from the -subject of his misfortune. What should he do if this horrid man came -to him once or twice a week? He certainly did owe the man the money. -He must admit that to himself. The man no doubt was a dishonest -knave who had discounted the bill probably at fifty per cent; but, -nevertheless, Phineas had made himself legally responsible for the -amount. The privilege of the House prohibited him from arrest. He -thought of that very often, but the thought only made him the more -unhappy. Would it not be said, and might it not be said truly, that -he had incurred this responsibility,--a responsibility which he was -altogether unequal to answer,--because he was so protected? He did -feel that a certain consciousness of his privilege had been present -to him when he had put his name across the paper, and there had been -dishonesty in that very consciousness. And of what service would his -privilege be to him, if this man could harass every hour of his -life? The man was to be with him again in a day or two, and when the -appointment had been proposed, he, Phineas, had not dared to negative -it. And how was he to escape? As for paying the bill, that with him -was altogether impossible. The man had told him,--and he had believed -the man,--that payment by Fitzgibbon was out of the question. And -yet Fitzgibbon was the son of a peer, whereas he was only the son of -a country doctor! Of course Fitzgibbon must make some effort,--some -great effort,--and have the thing settled. Alas, alas! He knew enough -of the world already to feel that the hope was vain. - -He went down from the Committee Room into the House, and he dined -at the House, and remained there until eight or nine at night; but -Fitzgibbon did not come. He then went to the Reform Club, but he was -not there. Both at the club and in the House many men spoke to him -about the debate of the previous night, expressing surprise that he -had not spoken,--making him more and more wretched. He saw Mr. Monk, -but Mr. Monk was walking arm in arm with his colleague, Mr. Palliser, -and Phineas could do no more than just speak to them. He thought that -Mr. Monk's nod of recognition was very cold. That might be fancy, but -it certainly was a fact that Mr. Monk only nodded to him. He would -tell Mr. Monk the truth, and then, if Mr. Monk chose to quarrel with -him, he at any rate would take no step to renew their friendship. - -From the Reform Club he went to the Shakspeare, a smaller club to -which Fitzgibbon belonged,--and of which Phineas much wished to -become a member,--and to which he knew that his friend resorted when -he wished to enjoy himself thoroughly, and to be at ease in his -inn. Men at the Shakspeare could do as they pleased. There were no -politics there, no fashion, no stiffness, and no rules,--so men said; -but that was hardly true. Everybody called everybody by his Christian -name, and members smoked all over the house. They who did not belong -to the Shakspeare thought it an Elysium upon earth; and they who -did, believed it to be among Pandemoniums the most pleasant. Phineas -called at the Shakspeare, and was told by the porter that Mr. -Fitzgibbon was up-stairs. He was shown into the strangers room, and -in five minutes his friend came down to him. - -"I want you to come down to the Reform with me," said Phineas. - -"By jingo, my dear fellow, I'm in the middle of a rubber of whist." - -"There has been a man with me about that bill." - -"What;--Clarkson?" - -"Yes, Clarkson," said Phineas. - -"Don't mind him," said Fitzgibbon. - -"That's nonsense. How am I to help minding him? I must mind him. He -is coming to me again on Tuesday morning." - -"Don't see him." - -"How can I help seeing him?" - -"Make them say you're not at home." - -"He has made an appointment. He has told me that he'll never leave me -alone. He'll be the death of me if this is not settled." - -"It shall be settled, my dear fellow. I'll see about it. I'll see -about it and write you a line. You must excuse me now, because those -fellows are waiting. I'll have it all arranged." - -Again as Phineas went home he thoroughly wished that he had not -seceded from Mr. Low. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -Lady Baldock at Home - - -About the middle of March Lady Baldock came up from Baddingham to -London, coerced into doing so, as Violet Effingham declared, in -thorough opposition to all her own tastes, by the known wishes of her -friends and relatives. Her friends and relatives, so Miss Effingham -insinuated, were unanimous in wishing that Lady Baldock should -remain at Baddingham Park, and therefore,--that wish having been -indiscreetly expressed,--she had put herself to great inconvenience, -and had come to London in March. "Gustavus will go mad," said Violet -to Lady Laura. The Gustavus in question was the Lord Baldock of the -present generation, Miss Effingham's Lady Baldock being the peer's -mother. "Why does not Lord Baldock take a house himself?" asked Lady -Laura. "Don't you know, my dear," Violet answered, "how much we -Baddingham people think of money? We don't like being vexed and -driven mad, but even that is better than keeping up two households." -As regarded Violet, the injury arising from Lady Baldock's early -migration was very great, for she was thus compelled to move from -Grosvenor Place to Lady Baldock's house in Berkeley Square. "As you -are so fond of being in London, Augusta and I have made up our minds -to come up before Easter," Lady Baldock had written to her. - -"I shall go to her now," Violet had said to her friend, "because I -have not quite made up my mind as to what I will do for the future." - -"Marry Oswald, and be your own mistress." - -"I mean to be my own mistress without marrying Oswald, though I don't -see my way quite clearly as yet. I think I shall set up a little -house of my own, and let the world say what it pleases. I suppose -they couldn't make me out to be a lunatic." - -"I shouldn't wonder if they were to try," said Lady Laura. - -"They could not prevent me in any other way. But I am in the dark as -yet, and so I shall be obedient and go to my aunt." - -Miss Effingham went to Berkeley Square, and Phineas Finn was -introduced to Lady Baldock. He had been often in Grosvenor Place, -and had seen Violet frequently. Mr. Kennedy gave periodical -dinners,--once a week,--to which everybody went who could get an -invitation; and Phineas had been a guest more than once. Indeed, in -spite of his miseries he had taken to dining out a good deal, and was -popular as an eater of dinners. He could talk when wanted, and did -not talk too much, was pleasant in manners and appearance, and had -already achieved a certain recognised position in London life. Of -those who knew him intimately, not one in twenty were aware from -whence he came, what was his parentage, or what his means of living. -He was a member of Parliament, a friend of Mr. Kennedy's, was -intimate with Mr. Monk, though an Irishman did not as a rule herd -with other Irishmen, and was the right sort of person to have at your -house. Some people said he was a cousin of Lord Brentford's, and -others declared that he was Lord Chiltern's earliest friend. There he -was, however, with a position gained, and even Lady Baldock asked him -to her house. - -Lady Baldock had evenings. People went to her house, and stood about -the room and on the stairs, talked to each other for half an hour, -and went away. In these March days there was no crowding, but still -there were always enough of people there to show that Lady Baldock -was successful. Why people should have gone to Lady Baldock's I -cannot explain;--but there are houses to which people go without -any reason. Phineas received a little card asking him to go, and he -always went. - -"I think you like my friend, Mr. Finn," Lady Laura said to Miss -Effingham, after the first of these evenings. - -"Yes, I do. I like him decidedly." - -"So do I. I should hardly have thought that you would have taken a -fancy to him." - -"I hardly know what you call taking a fancy," said Violet. "I am not -quite sure I like to be told that I have taken a fancy for a young -man." - -"I mean no offence, my dear." - -"Of course you don't But, to speak truth, I think I have rather taken -a fancy to him. There is just enough of him, but not too much. I -don't mean materially,--in regard to his inches; but as to his mental -belongings. I hate a stupid man who can't talk to me, and I hate a -clever man who talks me down. I don't like a man who is too lazy to -make any effort to shine; but I particularly dislike the man who is -always striving for effect. I abominate a humble man, but yet I love -to perceive that a man acknowledges the superiority of my sex, and -youth, and all that kind of thing." - -"You want to be flattered without plain flattery." - -"Of course I do. A man who would tell me that I am pretty, unless he -is over seventy, ought to be kicked out of the room. But a man who -can't show me that he thinks me so without saying a word about it, -is a lout. Now in all those matters, your friend, Mr. Finn, seems to -know what he is about. In other words, he makes himself pleasant, -and, therefore, one is glad to see him." - -"I suppose you do not mean to fall in love with him?" - -"Not that I know of, my dear. But when I do, I'll be sure to give you -notice." - -I fear that there was more of earnestness in Lady Laura's last -question than Miss Effingham had supposed. She had declared to -herself over and over again that she had never been in love with -Phineas Finn. She had acknowledged to herself, before Mr. Kennedy had -asked her hand in marriage, that there had been danger,--that she -could have learned to love the man if such love would not have been -ruinous to her,--that the romance of such a passion would have been -pleasant to her. She had gone farther than this, and had said to -herself that she would have given way to that romance, and would have -been ready to accept such love if offered to her, had she not put -it out of her own power to marry a poor man by her generosity to -her brother. Then she had thrust the thing aside, and had clearly -understood,--she thought that she had clearly understood,--that life -for her must be a matter of business. Was it not the case with nine -out of every ten among mankind, with nine hundred and ninety-nine out -of every thousand, that life must be a matter of business and not of -romance? Of course she could not marry Mr. Finn, knowing, as she did, -that neither of them had a shilling. Of all men in the world she -esteemed Mr. Kennedy the most, and when these thoughts were passing -through her mind, she was well aware that he would ask her to be -his wife. Had she not resolved that she would accept the offer, she -would not have gone to Loughlinter. Having put aside all romance as -unfitted to her life, she could, she thought, do her duty as Mr. -Kennedy's wife. She would teach herself to love him. Nay,--she had -taught herself to love him. She was at any rate so sure of her -own heart that she would never give her husband cause to rue the -confidence he placed in her. And yet there was something sore within -her when she thought that Phineas Finn was fond of Violet Effingham. - -It was Lady Baldock's second evening, and Phineas came to the house -at about eleven o'clock. At this time he had encountered a second -and a third interview with Mr. Clarkson, and had already failed in -obtaining any word of comfort from Laurence Fitzgibbon about the -bill. It was clear enough now that Laurence felt that they were both -made safe by their privilege, and that Mr. Clarkson should be treated -as you treat the organ-grinders. They are a nuisance and must be -endured. But the nuisance is not so great but what you can live in -comfort,--if only you are not too sore as to the annoyance. "My dear -fellow," Laurence had said to him, "I have had Clarkson almost living -in my rooms. He used to drink nearly a pint of sherry a day for me. -All I looked to was that I didn't live there at the same time. If you -wish it, I'll send in the sherry." This was very bad, and Phineas -tried to quarrel with his friend; but he found that it was difficult -to quarrel with Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -But though on this side Phineas was very miserable, on another side -he had obtained great comfort. Mr. Monk and he were better friends -than ever. "As to what Turnbull says about me in the House," Mr. -Monk had said, laughing; "he and I understand each other perfectly. -I should like to see you on your legs, but it is just as well, -perhaps, that you have deferred it. We shall have the real question -on immediately after Easter, and then you'll have plenty of -opportunities." Phineas had explained how he had attempted, how he -had failed, and how he had suffered;--and Mr. Monk had been generous -in his sympathy. "I know all about it," said he, "and have gone -through it all myself. The more respect you feel for the House, -the more satisfaction you will have in addressing it when you have -mastered this difficulty." - -The first person who spoke to Phineas at Lady Baldock's was Miss -Fitzgibbon, Laurence's sister. Aspasia Fitzgibbon was a warm woman as -regarded money, and as she was moreover a most discreet spinster, -she was made welcome by Lady Baldock, in spite of the well-known -iniquities of her male relatives. "Mr. Finn," said she, "how d'ye do? -I want to say a word to ye. Just come here into the corner." Phineas, -not knowing how to escape, did retreat into the corner with Miss -Fitzgibbon. "Tell me now, Mr. Finn;--have ye been lending money to -Laurence?" - -"No; I have lent him no money," said Phineas, much astonished by the -question. - -"Don't. That's my advice to ye. Don't. On any other matter Laurence -is the best creature in the world,--but he's bad to lend money to. -You ain't in any hobble with him, then?" - -"Well;--nothing to speak of. What makes you ask?" - -"Then you are in a hobble? Dear, dear! I never saw such a man as -Laurence;--never. Good-bye. I wouldn't do it again, if I were -you;--that's all." Then Miss Fitzgibbon came out of the corner and -made her way down-stairs. - -Phineas immediately afterwards came across Miss Effingham. "I did not -know," said she, "that you and the divine Aspasia were such close -allies." - -"We are the dearest friends in the world, but she has taken my breath -away now." - -"May a body be told how she has done that?" Violet asked. - -"Well, no; I'm afraid not, even though the body be Miss Effingham. It -was a profound secret;--really a secret concerning a third person, -and she began about it just as though she were speaking about the -weather!" - -"How charming! I do so like her. You haven't heard, have you, that -Mr. Ratler proposed to her the other day?" - -"No!" - -"But he did;--at least, so she tells everybody. She said she'd take -him if he would promise to get her brother's salary doubled." - -"Did she tell you?" - -"No; not me. And of course I don't believe a word of it. I suppose -Barrington Erle made up the story. Are you going out of town next -week, Mr. Finn?" The week next to this was Easter-week. "I heard you -were going into Northamptonshire." - -"From Lady Laura?" - -"Yes;--from Lady Laura." - -"I intend to spend three days with Lord Chiltern at Willingford. It -is an old promise. I am going to ride his horses,--that is, if I am -able to ride them." - -"Take care what you are about, Mr. Finn;--they say his horses are so -dangerous!" - -"I'm rather good at falling, I flatter myself." - -"I know that Lord Chiltern rides anything he can sit, so long as it -is some animal that nobody else will ride. It was always so with him. -He is so odd; is he not?" - -Phineas knew, of course, that Lord Chiltern had more than once asked -Violet Effingham to be his wife,--and he believed that she, from her -intimacy with Lady Laura, must know that he knew it. He had also -heard Lady Laura express a very strong wish that, in spite of these -refusals, Violet might even yet become her brother's wife. And -Phineas also knew that Violet Effingham was becoming, in his own -estimation, the most charming woman of his acquaintance. How was he -to talk to her about Lord Chiltern? - -"He is odd," said Phineas; "but he is an excellent fellow,--whom his -father altogether misunderstands." - -"Exactly,--just so; I am so glad to hear you say that,--you who have -never had the misfortune to have anything to do with a bad set. Why -don't you tell Lord Brentford? Lord Brentford would listen to you." - -"To me?" - -"Yes;--of course he would,--for you are just the link that is -wanting. You are Chiltern's intimate friend, and you are also the -friend of big-wigs and Cabinet Ministers." - -"Lord Brentford would put me down at once if I spoke to him on such a -subject." - -"I am sure he would not. You are too big to be put down, and no man -can really dislike to hear his son well spoken of by those who are -well spoken of themselves. Won't you try, Mr. Finn?" Phineas said -that he would think of it,--that he would try if any fit opportunity -could be found. "Of course you know how intimate I have been with the -Standishes," said Violet; "that Laura is to me a sister, and that -Oswald used to be almost a brother." - -"Why do not you speak to Lord Brentford;--you who are his favourite?" - -"There are reasons, Mr. Finn. Besides, how can any girl come forward -and say that she knows the disposition of any man? You can live with -Lord Chiltern, and see what he is made of, and know his thoughts, and -learn what is good in him, and also what is bad. After all, how is -any girl really to know anything of a man's life?" - -"If I can do anything, Miss Effingham, I will," said Phineas. - -"And then we shall all of us be so grateful to you," said Violet, -with her sweetest smile. - -Phineas, retreating from this conversation, stood for a while alone, -thinking of it. Had she spoken thus of Lord Chiltern because she did -love him or because she did not? And the sweet commendations which -had fallen from her lips upon him,--him, Phineas Finn,--were they -compatible with anything like a growing partiality for himself, or -were they incompatible with any such feeling? Had he most reason to -be comforted or to be discomfited by what had taken place? It seemed -hardly possible to his imagination that Violet Effingham should -love such a nobody as he. And yet he had had fair evidence that one -standing as high in the world as Violet Effingham would fain have -loved him could she have followed the dictates of her heart. He had -trembled when he had first resolved to declare his passion to Lady -Laura,--fearing that she would scorn him as being presumptuous. But -there had been no cause for such fear as that. He had declared his -love, and she had not thought him to be presumptuous. That now was -ages ago,--eight months since; and Lady Laura had become a married -woman. Since he had become so warmly alive to the charms of Violet -Effingham he had determined, with stern propriety, that a passion for -a married woman was disgraceful. Such love was in itself a sin, even -though it was accompanied by the severest forbearance and the most -rigid propriety of conduct. No;--Lady Laura had done wisely to check -the growing feeling of partiality which she had admitted; and now -that she was married, he would be as wise as she. It was clear to him -that, as regarded his own heart, the way was open to him for a new -enterprise. But what if he were to fail again, and be told by Violet, -when he declared his love, that she had just engaged herself to Lord -Chiltern! - -"What were you and Violet talking about so eagerly?" said Lady Laura -to him, with a smile that, in its approach to laughter, almost -betrayed its mistress. - -"We were talking about your brother." - -"You are going to him, are you not?" - -"Yes; I leave London on Sunday night;--but only for a day or two." - -"Has he any chance there, do you think?" - -"What, with Miss Effingham?" - -"Yes;--with Violet. Sometimes I think she loves him." - -"How can I say? In such a matter you can judge better than I can do. -One woman with reference to another can draw the line between love -and friendship. She certainly likes Chiltern." - -"Oh, I believe she loves him. I do indeed. But she fears him. She -does not quite understand how much there is of tenderness with that -assumed ferocity. And Oswald is so strange, so unwise, so impolitic, -that though he loves her better than all the world beside, he will -not sacrifice even a turn of a word to win her. When he asks her to -marry him, he almost flies at her throat, as an angry debtor who -applies for instant payment. Tell him, Mr. Finn, never to give it -over;--and teach him that he should be soft with her. Tell him, also, -that in her heart she likes him. One woman, as you say, knows another -woman; and I am certain he would win her if he would only be gentle -with her." Then, again, before they parted, Lady Laura told him that -this marriage was the dearest wish of her heart, and that there would -be no end to her gratitude if Phineas could do anything to promote -it. All which again made our hero unhappy. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -Sunday in Grosvenor Place - - -Mr. Kennedy, though he was a most scrupulously attentive member of -Parliament, was a man very punctual to hours and rules in his own -house,--and liked that his wife should be as punctual as himself. -Lady Laura, who in marrying him had firmly resolved that she would do -her duty to him in all ways, even though the ways might sometimes be -painful,--and had been perhaps more punctilious in this respect than -she might have been had she loved him heartily,--was not perhaps -quite so fond of accurate regularity as her husband; and thus, by -this time, certain habits of his had become rather bonds than habits -to her. He always had prayers at nine, and breakfasted at a quarter -past nine, let the hours on the night before have been as late as -they might before the time for rest had come. After breakfast he -would open his letters in his study, but he liked her to be with -him, and desired to discuss with her every application he got from -a constituent. He had his private secretary in a room apart, but he -thought that everything should be filtered to his private secretary -through his wife. He was very anxious that she herself should -superintend the accounts of their own private expenditure, and had -taken some trouble to teach her an excellent mode of book-keeping. -He had recommended to her a certain course of reading,--which was -pleasant enough; ladies like to receive such recommendations; but Mr. -Kennedy, having drawn out the course, seemed to expect that his wife -should read the books he had named, and, worse still, that she should -read them in the time he had allocated for the work. This, I think, -was tyranny. Then the Sundays became very wearisome to Lady Laura. -Going to church twice, she had learnt, would be a part of her duty; -and though in her father's household attendance at church had never -been very strict, she had made up her mind to this cheerfully. But -Mr. Kennedy expected also that he and she should always dine together -on Sundays, that there should be no guests, and that there should be -no evening company. After all, the demand was not very severe, but -yet she found that it operated injuriously upon her comfort. The -Sundays were very wearisome to her, and made her feel that her lord -and master was--her lord and master. She made an effort or two to -escape, but the efforts were all in vain. He never spoke a cross word -to her. He never gave a stern command. But yet he had his way. "I -won't say that reading a novel on a Sunday is a sin," he said; "but -we must at any rate admit that it is a matter on which men disagree, -that many of the best of men are against such occupation on Sunday, -and that to abstain is to be on the safe side." So the novels were -put away, and Sunday afternoon with the long evening became rather -a stumbling-block to Lady Laura. - -Those two hours, moreover, with her husband in the morning became -very wearisome to her. At first she had declared that it would be her -greatest ambition to help her husband in his work, and she had read -all the letters from the MacNabs and MacFies, asking to be made -gaugers and landing-waiters, with an assumed interest. But the work -palled upon her very quickly. Her quick intellect discovered soon -that there was nothing in it which she really did. It was all form -and verbiage, and pretence at business. Her husband went through it -all with the utmost patience, reading every word, giving orders as -to every detail, and conscientiously doing that which he conceived -he had undertaken to do. But Lady Laura wanted to meddle with high -politics, to discuss reform bills, to assist in putting up Mr. This -and putting down my Lord That. Why should she waste her time in -doing that which the lad in the next room, who was called a private -secretary, could do as well? - -Still she would obey. Let the task be as hard as it might, she would -obey. If he counselled her to do this or that, she would follow his -counsel,--because she owed him so much. If she had accepted the half -of all his wealth without loving him, she owed him the more on that -account. But she knew,--she could not but know,--that her intellect -was brighter than his; and might it not be possible for her to lead -him? Then she made efforts to lead her husband, and found that he was -as stiff-necked as an ox. Mr. Kennedy was not, perhaps, a clever man; -but he was a man who knew his own way, and who intended to keep it. - -"I have got a headache, Robert," she said to him one Sunday after -luncheon. "I think I will not go to church this afternoon." - -"It is not serious, I hope." - -"Oh dear no. Don't you know how one feels sometimes that one has got -a head? And when that is the case one's armchair is the best place." - -"I am not sure of that," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"If I went to church I should not attend," said Lady Laura. - -"The fresh air would do you more good than anything else, and we -could walk across the park." - -"Thank you;--I won't go out again to-day." This she said with -something almost of crossness in her manner, and Mr. Kennedy went to -the afternoon service by himself. - -Lady Laura when she was left alone began to think of her position. -She was not more than four or five months married, and she was -becoming very tired of her life. Was it not also true that she was -becoming tired of her husband? She had twice told Phineas Finn that -of all men in the world she esteemed Mr. Kennedy the most. She did -not esteem him less now. She knew no point or particle in which -he did not do his duty with accuracy. But no person can live -happily with another,--not even with a brother or a sister or a -friend,--simply upon esteem. All the virtues in the calendar, -though they exist on each side, will not make a man and woman happy -together, unless there be sympathy. Lady Laura was beginning to -find out that there was a lack of sympathy between herself and her -husband. - -She thought of this till she was tired of thinking of it, and then, -wishing to divert her mind, she took up the book that was lying -nearest to her hand. It was a volume of a new novel which she had -been reading on the previous day, and now, without much thought about -it, she went on with her reading. There came to her, no doubt, some -dim, half-formed idea that, as she was freed from going to church by -the plea of a headache, she was also absolved by the same plea from -other Sunday hindrances. A child, when it is ill, has buttered toast -and a picture-book instead of bread-and-milk and lessons. In this -way, Lady Laura conceived herself to be entitled to her novel. - -While she was reading it, there came a knock at the door, and -Barrington Erle was shown upstairs. Mr. Kennedy had given no orders -against Sunday visitors, but had simply said that Sunday visiting was -not to his taste. Barrington, however, was Lady Laura's cousin, and -people must be very strict if they can't see their cousins on Sunday. -Lady Laura soon lost her headache altogether in the animation -of discussing the chances of the new Reform Bill with the Prime -Minister's private secretary; and had left her chair, and was -standing by the table with the novel in her hand, protesting this -and denying that, expressing infinite confidence in Mr. Monk, and -violently denouncing Mr. Turnbull, when her husband returned from -church and came up into the drawing-room. Lady Laura had forgotten -her headache altogether, and had in her composition none of that -thoughtfulness of hypocrisy which would have taught her to moderate -her political feeling at her husband's return. - -"I do declare," she said, "that if Mr. Turnbull opposes the -Government measure now, because he can't have his own way in -everything, I will never again put my trust in any man who calls -himself a popular leader." - -"You never should," said Barrington Erle. - -"That's all very well for you, Barrington, who are an aristocratic -Whig of the old official school, and who call yourself a Liberal -simply because Fox was a Liberal a hundred years ago. My heart's in -it." - -"Heart should never have anything to do with politics; should it?" -said Erle, turning round to Mr. Kennedy. - -Mr. Kennedy did not wish to discuss the matter on a Sunday, nor yet -did he wish to say before Barrington Erle that he thought it wrong -to do so. And he was desirous of treating his wife in some way -as though she were an invalid,--that she thereby might be, as it -were, punished; but he did not wish to do this in such a way that -Barrington should be aware of the punishment. - -"Laura had better not disturb herself about it now," he said. - -"How is a person to help being disturbed?" said Lady Laura, laughing. - -"Well, well; we won't mind all that now," said Mr. Kennedy, turning -away. Then he took up the novel which Lady Laura had just laid down -from her hand, and, having looked at it, carried it aside, and placed -it on a book-shelf which was remote from them. Lady Laura watched him -as he did this, and the whole course of her husband's thoughts on the -subject was open to her at once. She regretted the novel, and she -regretted also the political discussion. Soon afterwards Barrington -Erle went away, and the husband and wife were alone together. - -"I am glad that your head is so much better," said he. He did not -intend to be severe, but he spoke with a gravity of manner which -almost amounted to severity. - -"Yes; it is," she said, "Barrington's coming in cheered me up." - -"I am sorry that you should have wanted cheering." - -"Don't you know what I mean, Robert?" - -"No; I do not think that I do, exactly." - -"I suppose your head is stronger. You do not get that feeling -of dazed, helpless imbecility of brain, which hardly amounts to -headache, but which yet--is almost as bad." - -"Imbecility of brain may be worse than headache, but I don't think it -can produce it." - -"Well, well;--I don't know how to explain it." - -"Headache comes, I think, always from the stomach, even when produced -by nervous affections. But imbecility of the brain--" - -"Oh, Robert, I am so sorry that I used the word." - -"I see that it did not prevent your reading," he said, after a pause. - -"Not such reading as that. I was up to nothing better." - -Then there was another pause. - -"I won't deny that it may be a prejudice," he said, "but I confess -that the use of novels in my own house on Sundays is a pain to me. -My mother's ideas on the subject are very strict, and I cannot think -that it is bad for a son to hang on to the teaching of his mother." -This he said in the most serious tone which he could command. - -"I don't know why I took it up," said Lady Laura. "Simply, I believe, -because it was there. I will avoid doing so for the future." - -"Do, my dear," said the husband. "I shall be obliged and grateful if -you will remember what I have said." Then he left her, and she sat -alone, first in the dusk and then in the dark, for two hours, doing -nothing. Was this to be the life which she had procured for herself -by marrying Mr. Kennedy of Loughlinter? If it was harsh and -unendurable in London, what would it be in the country? - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -The Willingford Bull - - -Phineas left London by a night mail train on Easter Sunday, and found -himself at the Willingford Bull about half an hour after midnight. -Lord Chiltern was up and waiting for him, and supper was on the -table. The Willingford Bull was an English inn of the old stamp, -which had now, in these latter years of railway travelling, ceased -to have a road business,--for there were no travellers on the road, -and but little posting--but had acquired a new trade as a depot for -hunters and hunting men. The landlord let out horses and kept hunting -stables, and the house was generally filled from the beginning of -November till the middle of April. Then it became a desert in the -summer, and no guests were seen there, till the pink coats flocked -down again into the shires. - -"How many days do you mean to give us?" said Lord Chiltern, as he -helped his friend to a devilled leg of turkey. - -"I must go back on Wednesday," said Phineas. - -"That means Wednesday night. I'll tell you what we'll do. We've the -Cottesmore to-morrow. We'll get into Tailby's country on Tuesday, and -Fitzwilliam will be only twelve miles off on Wednesday. We shall be -rather short of horses." - -"Pray don't let me put you out. I can hire something here, I -suppose?" - -"You won't put me out at all. There'll be three between us each day, -and we'll run our luck. The horses have gone on to Empingham for -to-morrow. Tailby is rather a way off,--at Somerby; but we'll manage -it. If the worst comes to the worst, we can get back to Stamford by -rail. On Wednesday we shall have everything very comfortable. They're -out beyond Stilton and will draw home our way. I've planned it all -out. I've a trap with a fast stepper, and if we start to-morrow at -half-past nine, we shall be in plenty of time. You shall ride Meg -Merrilies, and if she don't carry you, you may shoot her." - -"Is she one of the pulling ones?" - -"She is heavy in hand if you are heavy at her, but leave her mouth -alone and she'll go like flowing water. You'd better not ride more -in a crowd than you can help. Now what'll you drink?" - -They sat up half the night smoking and talking, and Phineas learned -more about Lord Chiltern then than ever he had learned before. There -was brandy and water before them, but neither of them drank. Lord -Chiltern, indeed, had a pint of beer by his side from which he sipped -occasionally. "I've taken to beer," he said, "as being the best drink -going. When a man hunts six days a week he can afford to drink beer. -I'm on an allowance,--three pints a day. That's not too much." - -"And you drink nothing else?" - -"Nothing when I'm alone,--except a little cherry-brandy when I'm out. -I never cared for drink;--never in my life. I do like excitement, and -have been less careful than I ought to have been as to what it has -come from. I could give up drink to-morrow, without a struggle,--if -it were worth my while to make up my mind to do it. And it's the same -with gambling. I never do gamble now, because I've got no money; but -I own I like it better than anything in the world. While you are at -it, there is life in it." - -"You should take to politics, Chiltern." - -"And I would have done so, but my father would not help me. Never -mind, we will not talk about him. How does Laura get on with her -husband?" - -"Very happily, I should say." - -"I don't believe it," said Lord Chiltern. "Her temper is too much -like mine to allow her to be happy with such a log of wood as Robert -Kennedy. It is such men as he who drive me out of the pale of decent -life. If that is decency, I'd sooner be indecent. You mark my words. -They'll come to grief. She'll never be able to stand it." - -"I should think she had her own way in everything," said Phineas. - -"No, no. Though he's a prig, he's a man; and she will not find it -easy to drive him." - -"But she may bend him." - -"Not an inch;--that is if I understand his character. I suppose you -see a good deal of them?" - -"Yes,--pretty well. I'm not there so often as I used to be in the -Square." - -"You get sick of it, I suppose. I should. Do you see my father -often?" - -"Only occasionally. He is always very civil when I do see him." - -"He is the very pink of civility when he pleases, but the most unjust -man I ever met." - -"I should not have thought that." - -"Yes, he is," said the Earl's son, "and all from lack of judgment to -discern the truth. He makes up his mind to a thing on insufficient -proof, and then nothing will turn him. He thinks well of you,--would -probably believe your word on any indifferent subject without thought -of a doubt; but if you were to tell him that I didn't get drunk every -night of my life and spend most of my time in thrashing policemen, he -would not believe you. He would smile incredulously and make you a -little bow. I can see him do it." - -"You are too hard on him, Chiltern." - -"He has been too hard on me, I know. Is Violet Effingham still in -Grosvenor Place?" - -"No; she's with Lady Baldock." - -"That old grandmother of evil has come to town,--has she? Poor -Violet! When we were young together we used to have such fun about -that old woman." - -"The old woman is an ally of mine now," said Phineas. - -"You make allies everywhere. You know Violet Effingham of course?" - -"Oh yes. I know her." - -"Don't you think her very charming?" said Lord Chiltern. - -"Exceedingly charming." - -"I have asked that girl to marry me three times, and I shall never -ask her again. There is a point beyond which a man shouldn't go. -There are many reasons why it would be a good marriage. In the first -place, her money would be serviceable. Then it would heal matters in -our family, for my father is as prejudiced in her favour as he is -against me. And I love her dearly. I've loved her all my life,--since -I used to buy cakes for her. But I shall never ask her again." - -"I would if I were you," said Phineas,--hardly knowing what it might -be best for him to say. - -"No; I never will. But I'll tell you what. I shall get into some -desperate scrape about her. Of course she'll marry, and that soon. -Then I shall make a fool of myself. When I hear that she is engaged I -shall go and quarrel with the man, and kick him,--or get kicked. All -the world will turn against me, and I shall be called a wild beast." - -"A dog in the manger is what you should be called." - -"Exactly;--but how is a man to help it? If you loved a girl, could -you see another man take her?" Phineas remembered of course that he -had lately come through this ordeal. "It is as though he were to come -and put his hand upon me, and wanted my own heart out of me. Though -I have no property in her at all, no right to her,--though she never -gave me a word of encouragement, it is as though she were the most -private thing in the world to me. I should be half mad, and in my -madness I could not master the idea that I was being robbed. I should -resent it as a personal interference." - -"I suppose it will come to that if you give her up yourself," said -Phineas. - -"It is no question of giving up. Of course I cannot make her marry -me. Light another cigar, old fellow." - -Phineas, as he lit the other cigar, remembered that he owed a certain -duty in this matter to Lady Laura. She had commissioned him to -persuade her brother that his suit with Violet Effingham would not be -hopeless, if he could only restrain himself in his mode of conducting -it. Phineas was disposed to do his duty, although he felt it to be -very hard that he should be called upon to be eloquent against his -own interest. He had been thinking for the last quarter of an hour -how he must bear himself if it might turn out that he should be the -man whom Lord Chiltern was resolved to kick. He looked at his friend -and host, and became aware that a kicking-match with such a one would -not be pleasant pastime. Nevertheless, he would be happy enough to be -subject to Lord Chiltern's wrath for such a reason. He would do his -duty by Lord Chiltern; and then, when that had been adequately done, -he would, if occasion served, fight a battle for himself. - -"You are too sudden with her, Chiltern," he said, after a pause. - -"What do you mean by too sudden?" said Lord Chiltern, almost angrily. - -"You frighten her by being so impetuous. You rush at her as though -you wanted to conquer her by a single blow." - -"So I do." - -"You should be more gentle with her. You should give her time to find -out whether she likes you or not." - -"She has known me all her life, and has found that out long ago. Not -but what you are right. I know you are right. If I were you, and had -your skill in pleasing, I should drop soft words into her ear till I -had caught her. But I have no gifts in that way. I am as awkward as -a pig at what is called flirting. And I have an accursed pride which -stands in my own light. If she were in this house this moment, and -if I knew she were to be had for asking, I don't think I could bring -myself to ask again. But we'll go to bed. It's half-past two, and we -must be off at half-past nine, if we're to be at Exton Park gates at -eleven." - -Phineas, as he went up-stairs, assured himself that he had done his -duty. If there ever should come to be anything between him and Violet -Effingham, Lord Chiltern might quarrel with him,--might probably -attempt that kicking encounter to which allusion had been made,--but -nobody could justly say that he had not behaved honourably to his -friend. - -On the next morning there was a bustle and a scurry, as there always -is on such occasions, and the two men got off about ten minutes after -time. But Lord Chiltern drove hard, and they reached the meet before -the master had moved off. They had a fair day's sport with the -Cottesmore; and Phineas, though he found that Meg Merrilies did -require a good deal of riding, went through his day's work with -credit. He had been riding since he was a child, as is the custom -with all boys in Munster, and had an Irishman's natural aptitude for -jumping. When they got back to the Willingford Bull he felt pleased -with the day and rather proud of himself. "It wasn't fast, you know," -said Chiltern, "and I don't call that a stiff country. Besides, Meg -is very handy when you've got her out of the crowd. You shall ride -Bonebreaker to-morrow at Somerby, and you'll find that better fun." - -"Bonebreaker? Haven't I heard you say he rushes like mischief?" - -"Well, he does rush. But, by George! you want a horse to rush in that -country. When you have to go right through four or five feet of stiff -green wood, like a bullet through a target, you want a little force, -or you're apt to be left up a tree." - -"And what do you ride?" - -"A brute I never put my leg on yet. He was sent down to Wilcox here, -out of Lincolnshire, because they couldn't get anybody to ride him -there. They say he goes with his head up in the air, and won't look -at a fence that isn't as high as his breast. But I think he'll do -here. I never saw a better made beast, or one with more power. Do you -look at his shoulders. He's to be had for seventy pounds, and these -are the sort of horses I like to buy." - -Again they dined alone, and Lord Chiltern explained to Phineas that -he rarely associated with the men of either of the hunts in which -he rode. "There is a set of fellows down here who are poison to me, -and there is another set, and I am poison to them. Everybody is -very civil, as you see, but I have no associates. And gradually I am -getting to have a reputation as though I were the devil himself. I -think I shall come out next year dressed entirely in black." - -"Are you not wrong to give way to that kind of thing?" - -"What the deuce am I to do? I can't make civil little speeches. When -once a man gets a reputation as an ogre, it is the most difficult -thing in the world to drop it. I could have a score of men here every -day if I liked it,--my title would do that for me;--but they would -be men I should loathe, and I should be sure to tell them so, -even though I did not mean it. Bonebreaker, and the new horse, -and another, went on at twelve to-day. You must expect hard work -to-morrow, as I daresay we shan't be home before eight." - -The next day's meet was in Leicestershire, not far from Melton, and -they started early. Phineas, to tell the truth of him, was rather -afraid of Bonebreaker, and looked forward to the probability of an -accident. He had neither wife nor child, and nobody had a better -right to risk his neck. "We'll put a gag on 'im," said the groom, -"and you'll ride 'im in a ring,--so that you may well-nigh break -his jaw; but he is a rum un, sir." "I'll do my best," said Phineas. -"He'll take all that," said the groom. "Just let him have his own way -at everything," said Lord Chiltern, as they moved away from the meet -to Pickwell Gorse; "and if you'll only sit on his back, he'll carry -you through as safe as a church." Phineas could not help thinking -that the counsels of the master and of the groom were very different. -"My idea is," continued Lord Chiltern, "that in hunting you should -always avoid a crowd. I don't think a horse is worth riding that -will go in a crowd. It's just like yachting,--you should have plenty -of sea-room. If you're to pull your horse up at every fence till -somebody else is over, I think you'd better come out on a donkey." -And so they went away to Pickwell Gorse. - -There were over two hundred men out, and Phineas began to think that -it might not be so easy to get out of the crowd. A crowd in a fast -run no doubt quickly becomes small by degrees and beautifully less; -but it is very difficult, especially for a stranger, to free himself -from the rush at the first start. Lord Chiltern's horse plunged about -so violently, as they stood on a little hill-side looking down upon -the cover, that he was obliged to take him to a distance, and Phineas -followed him. "If he breaks down wind," said Lord Chiltern, "we can't -be better than we are here. If he goes up wind, he must turn before -long, and we shall be all right." As he spoke an old hound opened -true and sharp,--an old hound whom all the pack believed,--and in a -moment there was no doubt that the fox had been found. "There are not -above eight or nine acres in it," said Lord Chiltern, "and he can't -hang long. Did you ever see such an uneasy brute as this in your -life? But I feel certain he'll go well when he gets away." - -Phineas was too much occupied with his own horse to think much of -that on which Lord Chiltern was mounted. Bonebreaker, the very moment -that he heard the old hound's note, stretched out his head, and put -his mouth upon the bit, and began to tremble in every muscle. "He's -a great deal more anxious for it than you and I are," said Lord -Chiltern. "I see they've given you that gag. But don't you ride him -on it till he wants it. Give him lots of room, and he'll go in the -snaffle." All which caution made Phineas think that any insurance -office would charge very dear on his life at the present moment. - -The fox took two rings of the gorse, and then he went,--up wind. -"It's not a vixen, I'll swear," said Lord Chiltern. "A vixen in cub -never went away like that yet. Now then, Finn, my boy, keep to the -right." And Lord Chiltern, with the horse out of Lincolnshire, went -away across the brow of the hill, leaving the hounds to the left, and -selected, as his point of exit into the next field, a stiff rail, -which, had there been an accident, must have put a very wide margin -of ground between the rider and his horse. "Go hard at your fences, -and then you'll fall clear," he had said to Phineas. I don't think, -however, that he would have ridden at the rail as he did, but -that there was no help for him. "The brute began in his own way, -and carried on after in the same fashion all through," he said -afterwards. Phineas took the fence a little lower down, and what -it was at which he rode he never knew. Bonebreaker sailed over it, -whatever it was, and he soon found himself by his friend's side. - -The ruck of the men were lower down than our two heroes, and there -were others far away to the left, and others, again, who had been at -the end of the gorse, and were now behind. Our friends were not near -the hounds, not within two fields of them, but the hounds were below -them, and therefore could be seen. "Don't be in a hurry, and they'll -be round upon us," Lord Chiltern said. "How the deuce is one to help -being in a hurry?" said Phineas, who was doing his very best to ride -Bonebreaker with the snaffle, but had already began to feel that -Bonebreaker cared nothing for that weak instrument. "By George, I -should like to change with you," said Lord Chiltern. The Lincolnshire -horse was going along with his head very low, boring as he galloped, -but throwing his neck up at his fences, just when he ought to have -kept himself steady. After this, though Phineas kept near Lord -Chiltern throughout the run, they were not again near enough to -exchange words; and, indeed, they had but little breath for such -purpose. - -Lord Chiltern rode still a little in advance, and Phineas, knowing -his friend's partiality for solitude when taking his fences, kept a -little to his left. He began to find that Bonebreaker knew pretty -well what he was about. As for not using the gag rein, that was -impossible. When a horse puts out what strength he has against a -man's arm, a man must put out what strength he has against the -horse's mouth. But Bonebreaker was cunning, and had had a gag rein -on before. He contracted his lip here, and bent out his jaw there, -till he had settled it to his mind, and then went away after his -own fashion. He seemed to have a passion for smashing through big, -high-grown ox-fences, and by degrees his rider came to feel that if -there was nothing worse coming, the fun was not bad. - -The fox ran up wind for a couple of miles or so, as Lord Chiltern had -prophesied, and then turned,--not to the right, as would best have -served him and Phineas, but to the left,--so that they were forced -to make their way through the ruck of horses before they could place -themselves again. Phineas found himself crossing a road, in and out -of it, before he knew where he was, and for a while he lost sight of -Lord Chiltern. But in truth he was leading now, whereas Lord Chiltern -had led before. The two horses having been together all the morning, -and on the previous day, were willing enough to remain in company, -if they were allowed to do so. They both crossed the road, not very -far from each other, going in and out amidst a crowd of horses, and -before long were again placed well, now having the hunt on their -right, whereas hitherto it had been on their left. They went over -large pasture fields, and Phineas began to think that as long as -Bonebreaker would be able to go through the thick grown-up hedges, -all would be right. Now and again he came to a cut fence, a fence -that had been cut and laid, and these were not so pleasant. Force -was not sufficient for them, and they admitted of a mistake. But the -horse, though he would rush at them unpleasantly, took them when they -came without touching them. It might be all right yet,--unless the -beast should tire with him; and then, Phineas thought, a misfortune -might probably occur. He remembered, as he flew over one such -impediment, that he rode a stone heavier than his friend. At the end -of forty-five minutes Bonebreaker also might become aware of the -fact. - -The hounds were running well in sight to their right, and Phineas -began to feel some of that pride which a man indulges when he becomes -aware that he has taken his place comfortably, has left the squad -behind, and is going well. There were men nearer the hounds than he -was, but he was near enough even for ambition. There had already been -enough of the run to make him sure that it would be a "good thing", -and enough to make him aware also that probably it might be too good. -When a run is over, men are very apt to regret the termination, who -a minute or two before were anxiously longing that the hounds might -pull down their game. To finish well is everything in hunting. To -have led for over an hour is nothing, let the pace and country have -been what they might, if you fall away during the last half mile. -Therefore it is that those behind hope that the fox may make this -or that cover, while the forward men long to see him turned over in -every field. To ride to hounds is very glorious; but to have ridden -to hounds is more glorious still. They had now crossed another road, -and a larger one, and had got into a somewhat closer country. The -fields were not so big, and the fences were not so high. Phineas got -a moment to look about him, and saw Lord Chiltern riding without his -cap. He was very red in the face, and his eyes seemed to glare, and -he was tugging at his horse with all his might. But the animal seemed -still to go with perfect command of strength, and Phineas had too -much work on his own hands to think of offering Quixotic assistance -to any one else. He saw some one, a farmer, as he thought, speak to -Lord Chiltern as they rode close together; but Chiltern only shook -his head and pulled at his horse. - -There were brooks in those parts. The river Eye forms itself -thereabouts, or some of its tributaries do so; and these tributaries, -though small as rivers, are considerable to men on one side who are -called by the exigencies of the occasion to place themselves quickly -on the other. Phineas knew nothing of these brooks; but Bonebreaker -had gone gallantly over two, and now that there came a third in the -way, it was to be hoped that he might go gallantly over that also. -Phineas, at any rate, had no power to decide otherwise. As long as -the brute would go straight with him he could sit him; but he had -long given up the idea of having a will of his own. Indeed, till he -was within twenty yards of the brook, he did not see that it was -larger than the others. He looked around, and there was Chiltern -close to him, still fighting with his horse;--but the farmer had -turned away. He thought that Chiltern nodded to him, as much as to -tell him to go on. On he went at any rate. The brook, when he came to -it, seemed to be a huge black hole, yawning beneath him. The banks -were quite steep, and just where he was to take off there was an -ugly stump. It was too late to think of anything. He stuck his knees -against his saddle,--and in a moment was on the other side. The -brute, who had taken off a yard before the stump, knowing well the -danger of striking it with his foot, came down with a grunt, and did, -I think, begin to feel the weight of that extra stone. Phineas, as -soon as he was safe, looked back, and there was Lord Chiltern's horse -in the very act of his spring,--higher up the rivulet, where it was -even broader. At that distance Phineas could see that Lord Chiltern -was wild with rage against the beast. But whether he wished to take -the leap or wished to avoid it, there was no choice left to him. The -animal rushed at the brook, and in a moment the horse and horseman -were lost to sight. It was well then that that extra stone should -tell, as it enabled Phineas to arrest his horse and to come back to -his friend. - -The Lincolnshire horse had chested the further bank, and of course -had fallen back into the stream. When Phineas got down he found that -Lord Chiltern was wedged in between the horse and the bank, which was -better, at any rate, than being under the horse in the water. "All -right, old fellow," he said, with a smile, when he saw Phineas. "You -go on; it's too good to lose." But he was very pale, and seemed to be -quite helpless where he lay. The horse did not move,--and never did -move again. He had smashed his shoulder to pieces against a stump on -the bank, and was afterwards shot on that very spot. - -When Phineas got down he found that there was but little water where -the horse lay. The depth of the stream had been on the side from -which they had taken off, and the thick black mud lay within a foot -of the surface, close to the bank against which Lord Chiltern was -propped. "That's the worst one I ever was on," said Lord Chiltern; -"but I think he's gruelled now." - -"Are you hurt?" - -"Well;--I fancy there is something amiss. I can't move my arms; and I -catch my breath. My legs are all right if I could get away from this -accursed brute." - -"I told you so," said the farmer, coming and looking down upon them -from the bank. "I told you so, but you wouldn't be said." Then he too -got down, and between them both they extricated Lord Chiltern from -his position, and got him on to the bank. - -"That un's a dead un," said the farmer, pointing to the horse. - -"So much the better," said his lordship. "Give us a drop of sherry, -Finn." - -He had broken his collar-bone and three of his ribs. They got a -farmer's trap from Wissindine and took him into Oakham. When there, -he insisted on being taken on through Stamford to the Willingford -Bull before he would have his bones set,--picking up, however, a -surgeon at Stamford. Phineas remained with him for a couple of days, -losing his run with the Fitzwilliams and a day at the potted peas, -and became very fond of his patient as he sat by his bedside. - -"That was a good run, though, wasn't it?" said Lord Chiltern -as Phineas took his leave. "And, by George, Phineas, you rode -Bonebreaker so well, that you shall have him as often as you'll come -down. I don't know how it is, but you Irish fellows always ride." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -Mr. Turnbull's Carriage Stops the Way - - -When Phineas got back to London, a day after his time, he found that -there was already a great political commotion in the metropolis. -He had known that on Easter Monday and Tuesday there was to be -a gathering of the people in favour of the ballot, and that on -Wednesday there was to be a procession with a petition which Mr. -Turnbull was to receive from the hands of the people on Primrose -Hill. It had been at first intended that Mr. Turnbull should receive -the petition at the door of Westminster Hall on the Thursday; but he -had been requested by the Home Secretary to put aside this intention, -and he had complied with the request made to him. Mr. Mildmay was -to move the second reading of his Reform Bill on that day, the -preliminary steps having been taken without any special notice; but -the bill of course included no clause in favour of the ballot; and -this petition was the consequence of that omission. Mr. Turnbull had -predicted evil consequences, both in the House and out of it, and -was now doing the best in his power to bring about the verification -of his own prophecies. Phineas, who reached his lodgings late on the -Thursday, found that the town had been in a state of ferment for -three days, that on the Wednesday forty or fifty thousand persons had -been collected at Primrose Hill, and that the police had been forced -to interfere,--and that worse was expected on the Friday. Though Mr. -Turnbull had yielded to the Government as to receiving the petition, -the crowd was resolved that they would see the petition carried into -the House. It was argued that the Government would have done better -to have refrained from interfering as to the previously intended -arrangement. It would have been easier to deal with a procession than -with a mob of men gathered together without any semblance of form. -Mr. Mildmay had been asked to postpone the second reading of his -bill; but the request had come from his opponents, and he would -not yield to it. He said that it would be a bad expedient to close -Parliament from fear of the people. Phineas found at the Reform Club -on the Thursday evening that members of the House of Commons were -requested to enter on the Friday by the door usually used by the -peers, and to make their way thence to their own House. He found that -his landlord, Mr. Bunce, had been out with the people during the -entire three days;--and Mrs. Bunce, with a flood of tears, begged -Phineas to interfere as to the Friday. "He's that headstrong that -he'll be took if anybody's took; and they say that all Westminster is -to be lined with soldiers." Phineas on the Friday morning did have -some conversation with his landlord; but his first work on reaching -London was to see Lord Chiltern's friends, and tell them of the -accident. - -The potted peas Committee sat on the Thursday, and he ought to have -been there. His absence, however, was unavoidable, as he could not -have left his friend's bed-side so soon after the accident. On the -Wednesday he had written to Lady Laura, and on the Thursday evening -he went first to Portman Square and then to Grosvenor Place. - -"Of course he will kill himself some day," said the Earl,--with a -tear, however, in each eye. - -"I hope not, my lord. He is a magnificent horseman; but accidents of -course will happen." - -"How many of his bones are there not broken, I wonder?" said the -father. "It is useless to talk, of course. You think he is not in -danger?" - -"Certainly not." - -"I should fear that he would be so liable to inflammation." - -"The doctor says that there is none. He has been taking an enormous -deal of exercise," said Phineas, "and drinking no wine. All that is -in his favour." - -"What does he drink, then?" asked the Earl. - -"Nothing. I rather think, my lord, you are mistaken a little about -his habits. I don't fancy he ever drinks unless he is provoked to do -it." - -"Provoked! Could anything provoke you to make a brute of yourself? -But I am glad that he is in no danger. If you hear of him, let me -know how he goes on." - -Lady Laura was of course full of concern. "I wanted to go down to -him," she said, "but Mr. Kennedy thought that there was no occasion." - -"Nor is there any;--I mean in regard to danger. He is very solitary -there." - -"You must go to him again. Mr. Kennedy will not let me go unless I -can say that there is danger. He seems to think that because Oswald -has had accidents before, it is nothing. Of course I cannot leave -London without his leave." - -"Your brother makes very little of it, you know." - -"Ah;--he would make little of anything. But if I were ill he would be -in London by the first train." - -"Kennedy would let you go if you asked him." - -"But he advises me not to go. He says my duty does not require it, -unless Oswald be in danger. Don't you know, Mr. Finn, how hard it is -for a wife not to take advice when it is so given?" This she said, -within six months of her marriage, to the man who had been her -husband's rival! - -Phineas asked her whether Violet had heard the news, and learned that -she was still ignorant of it. "I got your letter only this morning, -and I have not seen her," said Lady Laura. "Indeed, I am so angry -with her that I hardly wish to see her." Thursday was Lady Baldock's -night, and Phineas went from Grosvenor Place to Berkeley Square. -There he saw Violet, and found that she had heard of the accident. - -"I am so glad to see you, Mr. Finn," she said. "Do tell me;--is it -much?" - -"Much in inconvenience, certainly; but not much in danger." - -"I think Laura was so unkind not to send me word! I only heard it -just now. Did you see it?" - -"I was close to him, and helped him up. The horse jumped into a river -with him, and crushed him up against the bank." - -"How lucky that you should be there! Had you jumped the river?" - -"Yes;--almost unintentionally, for my horse was rushing so that I -could not hold him. Chiltern was riding a brute that no one should -have ridden. No one will again." - -"Did he destroy himself?" - -"He had to be killed afterwards. He broke his shoulder." - -"How very lucky that you should have been near him,--and, again, how -lucky that you should not have been hurt yourself!" - -"It was not likely that we should both come to grief at the same -fence." - -"But it might have been you. And you think there is no danger?" - -"None whatever,--if I may believe the doctor. His hunting is done for -this year, and he will be very desolate. I shall go down again to him -in a few days, and try to bring him up to town." - -"Do;--do. If he is laid up in his father's house, his father must -see him." Phineas had not looked at the matter in that light; but he -thought that Miss Effingham might probably be right. - -Early on the next morning he saw Mr. Bunce, and used all his -eloquence to keep that respectable member of society at home;--but -in vain. "What good do you expect to do, Mr. Bunce?" he said, with -perhaps some little tone of authority in his voice. - -"To carry my point," said Bunce. - -"And what is your point?" - -"My present point is the ballot, as a part of the Government -measure." - -"And you expect to carry that by going out into the streets with all -the roughs of London, and putting yourself in direct opposition to -the authority of the magistrates? Do you really believe that the -ballot will become the law of the land any sooner because you incur -this danger and inconvenience?" - -"Look here, Mr. Finn; I don't believe the sea will become any fuller -because the Piddle runs into it out of the Dorsetshire fields; but I -do believe that the waters from all the countries is what makes the -ocean. I shall help; and it's my duty to help." - -"It's your duty as a respectable citizen, with a wife and family, to -stay at home." - -"If everybody with a wife and family was to say so, there'd be -none there but roughs, and then where should we be? What would the -Government people say to us then? If every man with a wife and family -was to show hisself in the streets to-night, we should have the -ballot before Parliament breaks up, and if none of 'em don't do it, -we shall never have the ballot. Ain't that so?" Phineas, who intended -to be honest, was not prepared to dispute the assertion on the spur -of the moment. "If that's so," said Bunce, triumphantly, "a man's -duty's clear enough. He ought to go, though he'd two wives and -families." And he went. - -The petition was to be presented at six o'clock, but the crowd, who -collected to see it carried into Westminster Hall, began to form -itself by noon. It was said afterwards that many of the houses in -the neighbourhood of Palace Yard and the Bridge were filled with -soldiers; but if so, the men did not show themselves. In the course -of the evening three or four companies of the Guards in St. James's -Park did show themselves, and had some rough work to do, for many of -the people took themselves away from Westminster by that route. The -police, who were very numerous in Palace Yard, had a hard time of it -all the afternoon, and it was said afterwards that it would have been -much better to have allowed the petition to have been brought up by -the procession on Wednesday. A procession, let it be who it will that -proceeds, has in it, of its own nature something of order. But now -there was no order. The petition, which was said to fill fifteen -cabs,--though the absolute sheets of signatures were carried into -the House by four men,--was being dragged about half the day and it -certainly would have been impossible for a member to have made his -way into the House through Westminster Hall between the hours of four -and six. To effect an entrance at all they were obliged to go round -at the back of the Abbey, as all the spaces round St. Margaret's -Church and Canning's monument were filled with the crowd. Parliament -Street was quite impassable at five o clock, and there was no traffic -across the bridge from that hour till after eight. As the evening -went on, the mob extended itself to Downing Street and the front -of the Treasury Chambers, and before the night was over all the -hoardings round the new Government offices had been pulled down. The -windows also of certain obnoxious members of Parliament were broken, -when those obnoxious members lived within reach. One gentleman who -unfortunately held a house in Richmond Terrace, and who was said -to have said that the ballot was the resort of cowards, fared very -badly;--for his windows were not only broken, but his furniture and -mirrors were destroyed by the stones that were thrown. Mr. Mildmay, -I say, was much blamed. But after all, it may be a doubt whether the -procession on Wednesday might not have ended worse. Mr. Turnbull was -heard to say afterwards that the number of people collected would -have been much greater. - -Mr. Mildmay moved the second reading of his bill, and made his -speech. He made his speech with the knowledge that the Houses of -Parliament were surrounded by a mob, and I think that the fact added -to its efficacy. It certainly gave him an appropriate opportunity -for a display which was not difficult. His voice faltered on two or -three occasions, and faltered through real feeling; but this sort of -feeling, though it be real, is at the command of orators on certain -occasions, and does them yeoman's service. Mr. Mildmay was an -old man, nearly worn out in the service of his country, who was -known to have been true and honest, and to have loved his country -well,--though there were of course they who declared that his -hand had been too weak for power, and that his services had been -naught;--and on this evening his virtues were remembered. Once when -his voice failed him the whole House got up and cheered. The nature -of a Whig Prime Minister's speech on such an occasion will be -understood by most of my readers without further indication. The bill -itself had been read before, and it was understood that no objection -would be made to the extent of the changes provided in it by the -liberal side of the House. The opposition coming from liberal members -was to be confined to the subject of the ballot. And even as yet -it was not known whether Mr. Turnbull and his followers would vote -against the second reading, or whether they would take what was -given, and declare their intention of obtaining the remainder on a -separate motion. The opposition of a large party of Conservatives was -a matter of certainty; but to this party Mr. Mildmay did not conceive -himself bound to offer so large an amount of argument as he would -have given had there been at the moment no crowd in Palace Yard. And -he probably felt that that crowd would assist him with his old Tory -enemies. When, in the last words of his speech, he declared that -under no circumstances would he disfigure the close of his political -career by voting for the ballot,--not though the people, on whose -behalf he had been fighting battles all his life, should be there in -any number to coerce him,--there came another round of applause from -the opposition benches, and Mr. Daubeny began to fear that some young -horses in his team might get loose from their traces. With great -dignity Mr. Daubeny had kept aloof from Mr. Turnbull and from Mr. -Turnbull's tactics; but he was not the less alive to the fact -that Mr. Turnbull, with his mob and his big petition, might be of -considerable assistance to him in this present duel between himself -and Mr. Mildmay. I think Mr. Daubeny was in the habit of looking at -these contests as duels between himself and the leader on the other -side of the House,--in which assistance from any quarter might be -accepted if offered. - -Mr. Mildmay's speech did not occupy much over an hour, and at -half-past seven Mr. Turnbull got up to reply. It was presumed that he -would do so, and not a member left his place, though that time of the -day is an interesting time, and though Mr. Turnbull was accustomed to -be long. There soon came to be but little ground for doubting what -would be the nature of Mr. Turnbull's vote on the second reading. -"How may I dare," said he, "to accept so small a measure of reform as -this with such a message from the country as is now conveyed to me -through the presence of fifty thousand of my countrymen, who are at -this moment demanding their measure of reform just beyond the frail -walls of this chamber? The right honourable gentleman has told us -that he will never be intimidated by a concourse of people. I do not -know that there was any need that he should speak of intimidation. -No one has accused the right honourable gentleman of political -cowardice. But, as he has so said, I will follow in his footsteps. -Neither will I be intimidated by the large majority which this House -presented the other night against the wishes of the people. I will -support no great measure of reform which does not include the ballot -among its clauses." And so Mr. Turnbull threw down the gauntlet. - -Mr. Turnbull spoke for two hours, and then the debate was adjourned -till the Monday. The adjournment was moved by an independent member, -who, as was known, would support the Government, and at once received -Mr. Turnbull's assent. There was no great hurry with the bill, and -it was felt that it would be well to let the ferment subside. Enough -had been done for glory when Mr. Mildmay moved the second reading, -and quite enough in the way of debate,--with such an audience almost -within hearing,--when Mr. Turnbull's speech had been made. Then the -House emptied itself at once. The elderly, cautious members made -their exit through the peers' door. The younger men got out into -the crowd through Westminster Hall, and were pushed about among the -roughs for an hour or so. Phineas, who made his way through the hall -with Laurence Fitzgibbon, found Mr. Turnbull's carriage waiting at -the entrance with a dozen policemen round it. - -"I hope he won't get home to dinner before midnight," said Phineas. - -"He understands all about it," said Laurence. "He had a good meal at -three, before he left home, and you'd find sandwiches and sherry in -plenty if you were to search his carriage. He knows how to remedy the -costs of mob popularity." - -At that time poor Bunce was being hustled about in the crowd in the -vicinity of Mr. Turnbull's carriage. Phineas and Fitzgibbon made -their way out, and by degrees worked a passage for themselves into -Parliament Street. Mr. Turnbull had been somewhat behind them in -coming down the hall, and had not been without a sense of enjoyment -in the ovation which was being given to him. There can be no doubt -that he was wrong in what he was doing. That affair of the carriage -was altogether wrong, and did Mr. Turnbull much harm for many a day -afterwards. When he got outside the door, where were the twelve -policemen guarding his carriage, a great number of his admirers -endeavoured to shake hands with him. Among them was the devoted -Bunce. But the policemen seemed to think that Mr. Turnbull was to be -guarded, even from the affection of his friends, and were as careful -that he should be ushered into his carriage untouched, as though he -had been the favourite object of political aversion for the moment. -Mr. Turnbull himself, when he began to perceive that men were -crowding close upon the gates, and to hear the noise, and to feel, as -it were, the breath of the mob, stepped on quickly into his carriage. -He said a word or two in a loud voice. "Thank you, my friends. I -trust you may obtain all your just demands." But he did not pause -to speak. Indeed, he could hardly have done so, as the policemen -were manifestly in a hurry. The carriage was got away at a snail's -pace;--but there remained in the spot where the carriage had stood -the makings of a very pretty street row. - -Bunce had striven hard to shake hands with his hero,--Bunce and some -other reformers as ardent and as decent as himself. The police were -very determinate that there should be no such interruption to their -programme for getting Mr. Turnbull off the scene. Mr. Bunce, who had -his own ideas as to his right to shake hands with any gentleman at -Westminster Hall who might choose to shake hands with him, became -uneasy under the impediments that were placed in his way, and -expressed himself warmly as to his civil rights. Now a London -policeman in a political row is, I believe, the most forbearing -of men. So long as he meets with no special political opposition, -ordinary ill-usage does not even put him out of temper. He is paid -for rough work among roughs, and takes his rubs gallantly. But he -feels himself to be an instrument for the moment of despotic power -as opposed to civil rights, and he won't stand what he calls "jaw." -Trip up a policeman in such a scramble, and he will take it in good -spirit; but mention the words "Habeas Corpus," and he'll lock you up -if he can. As a rule, his instincts are right; for the man who talks -about "Habeas Corpus" in a political crowd will generally do more -harm than can be effected by the tripping up of any constable. But -these instincts may be the means of individual injustice. I think -they were so when Mr. Bunce was arrested and kept a fast prisoner. -His wife had shown her knowledge of his character when she declared -that he'd be "took" if any one was "took." - -Bunce was taken into custody with some three or four others like -himself,--decent men, who meant no harm, but who thought that as men -they were bound to show their political opinions, perhaps at the -expense of a little martyrdom,--and was carried into a temporary -stronghold, which had been provided for the necessities of the -police, under the clock-tower. - -"Keep me, at your peril!" said Bunce, indignantly. - -"We means it," said the sergeant who had him in custody. - -"I've done no ha'porth to break the law," said Bunce. - -"You was breaking the law when you was upsetting my men, as I saw -you," said the sergeant. - -"I've upset nobody," said Bunce. - -"Very well," rejoined the sergeant; "you can say it all before the -magistrate, to-morrow." - -"And am I to be locked up all night?" said Bunce. - -"I'm afraid you will," replied the sergeant. - -Bunce, who was not by nature a very talkative man, said no more; but -he swore in his heart that there should be vengeance. Between eleven -and twelve he was taken to the regular police-station, and from -thence he was enabled to send word to his wife. - -"Bunce has been taken," said she, with something of the tragic queen, -and something also of the injured wife in the tone of her voice, as -soon as Phineas let himself in with the latchkey between twelve and -one. And then, mingled with, and at last dominant over, those severer -tones, came the voice of the loving woman whose beloved one was in -trouble. "I knew how it'd be, Mr. Finn. Didn't I? And what must we -do? I don't suppose he'd had a bit to eat from the moment he went -out;--and as for a drop of beer, he never thinks of it, except what -I puts down for him at his meals. Them nasty police always take the -best. That's why I was so afeard." - -Phineas said all that he could to comfort her, and promised to go -to the police-office early in the morning and look after Bunce. No -serious evil would, he thought, probably come of it; but still Bunce -had been wrong to go. - -"But you might have been took yourself," argued Mrs. Bunce, "just as -well as he." Then Phineas explained that he had gone forth in the -execution of a public duty. "You might have been took, all the same," -said Mrs. Bunce, "for I'm sure Bunce didn't do nothing amiss." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -"The First Speech" - - -On the following morning, which was Saturday, Phineas was early at -the police-office at Westminster looking after the interests of his -landlord; but there had been a considerable number of men taken up -during the row, and our friend could hardly procure that attention -for Mr. Bunce's case to which he thought the decency of his client -and his own position as a member of Parliament were entitled. The men -who had been taken up were taken in batches before the magistrates; -but as the soldiers in the park had been maltreated, and a -considerable injury had been done in the neighbourhood of Downing -Street, there was a good deal of strong feeling against the mob, and -the magistrates were disposed to be severe. If decent men chose to go -out among such companions, and thereby get into trouble, decent men -must take the consequences. During the Saturday and Sunday a very -strong feeling grew up against Mr. Turnbull. The story of the -carriage was told, and he was declared to be a turbulent demagogue, -only desirous of getting popularity. And together with this feeling -there arose a general verdict of "Serve them right" against all who -had come into contact with the police in the great Turnbull row; and -thus it came to pass that Mr. Bunce had not been liberated up to -the Monday morning. On the Sunday Mrs. Bunce was in hysterics, and -declared her conviction that Mr. Bunce would be imprisoned for life. -Poor Phineas had an unquiet time with her on the morning of that day. -In every ecstasy of her grief she threw herself into his arms, either -metaphorically or materially, according to the excess of her agony at -the moment, and expressed repeatedly an assured conviction that all -her children would die of starvation, and that she herself would be -picked up under the arches of one of the bridges. Phineas, who was -soft-hearted, did what he could to comfort her, and allowed himself -to be worked up to strong parliamentary anger against the magistrates -and police. "When they think that they have public opinion on their -side, there is nothing in the way or arbitrary excess which is too -great for them." This he said to Barrington Erle, who angered him and -increased the warmth of his feeling by declaring that a little close -confinement would be good for the Bunces of the day. "If we don't -keep the mob down, the mob will keep us down," said the Whig private -secretary. Phineas had no opportunity of answering this, but declared -to himself that Barrington Erle was no more a Liberal at heart than -was Mr. Daubeny. "He was born on that side of the question, and has -been receiving Whig wages all his life. That is the history of his -politics!" - -On the Sunday afternoon Phineas went to Lord Brentford's in Portman -Square, intending to say a word or two about Lord Chiltern, and -meaning also to induce, if possible, the Cabinet Minister to take -part with him against the magistrates,--having a hope also, in which -he was not disappointed, that he might find Lady Laura Kennedy with -her father. He had come to understand that Lady Laura was not to be -visited at her own house on Sundays. So much indeed she had told -him in so many words. But he had come to understand also, without -any plain telling, that she rebelled in heart against this Sabbath -tyranny,--and that she would escape from it when escape was possible. -She had now come to talk to her father about her brother, and had -brought Violet Effingham with her. They had walked together across -the park after church, and intended to walk back again. Mr. Kennedy -did not like to have any carriage out on a Sunday, and to this -arrangement his wife made no objection. - -Phineas had received a letter from the Stamford surgeon, and was able -to report favourably of Lord Chiltern. "The man says that he had -better not be moved for a month," said Phineas. "But that means -nothing. They always say that." - -"Will it not be best for him to remain where he is?" said the Earl. - -"He has not a soul to speak to," said Phineas. - -"I wish I were with him," said his sister. - -"That is, of course, out of the question," said the Earl. "They know -him at that inn, and it really seems to me best that he should stay -there. I do not think he would be so much at his ease here." - -"It must be dreadful for a man to be confined to his room without -a creature near him, except the servants," said Violet. The Earl -frowned, but said nothing further. They all perceived that as soon as -he had learned that there was no real danger as to his son's life, he -was determined that this accident should not work him up to any show -of tenderness. "I do so hope he will come up to London," continued -Violet, who was not afraid of the Earl, and was determined not to be -put down. - -"You don't know what you are talking about, my dear," said Lord -Brentford. - -After this Phineas found it very difficult to extract any sympathy -from the Earl on behalf of the men who had been locked up. He was -moody and cross, and could not be induced to talk on the great -subject of the day. Violet Effingham declared that she did not care -how many Bunces were locked up; nor for how long,--adding, however, -a wish that Mr. Turnbull himself had been among the number of the -prisoners. Lady Laura was somewhat softer than this, and consented to -express pity in the case of Mr. Bunce himself; but Phineas perceived -that the pity was awarded to him and not to the sufferer. The feeling -against Mr. Turnbull was at the present moment so strong among all -the upper classes, that Mr. Bunce and his brethren might have been -kept in durance for a week without commiseration from them. - -"It is very hard certainly on a man like Mr. Bunce," said Lady Laura. - -"Why did not Mr. Bunce stay at home and mind his business?" said the -Earl. - -Phineas spent the remainder of that day alone, and came to a -resolution that on the coming occasion he certainly would speak in -the House. The debate would be resumed on the Monday, and he would -rise to his legs on the very first moment that it became possible -for him to do so. And he would do nothing towards preparing a -speech;--nothing whatever. On this occasion he would trust entirely -to such words as might come to him at the moment;--ay, and to such -thoughts. He had before burdened his memory with preparations, and -the very weight of the burden had been too much for his mind. He had -feared to trust himself to speak, because he had felt that he was -not capable of performing the double labour of saying his lesson -by heart, and of facing the House for the first time. There should -be nothing now for him to remember. His thoughts were full of his -subject. He would support Mr. Mildmay's bill with all his eloquence, -but he would implore Mr. Mildmay, and the Home Secretary, and the -Government generally, to abstain from animosity against the populace -of London, because they desired one special boon which Mr. Mildmay -did not think that it was his duty to give them. He hoped that ideas -and words would come to him. Ideas and words had been free enough -with him in the old days of the Dublin debating society. If they -failed him now, he must give the thing up, and go back to Mr. Low. - -On the Monday morning Phineas was for two hours at the police-court -in Westminster, and at about one on that day Mr. Bunce was liberated. -When he was brought up before the magistrate, Mr. Bunce spoke his -mind very freely as to the usage he had received, and declared his -intention of bringing an action against the sergeant who had detained -him. The magistrate, of course, took the part of the police, and -declared that, from the evidence of two men who were examined, Bunce -had certainly used such violence in the crowd as had justified his -arrest. - -"I used no violence," said Bunce. - -"According to your own showing, you endeavoured to make your way up -to Mr. Turnbull's carriage," said the magistrate. - -"I was close to the carriage before the police even saw me," said -Bunce. - -"But you tried to force your way round to the door." - -"I used no force till a man had me by the collar to push me back; and -I wasn't violent, not then. I told him I was doing what I had a right -to do,--and it was that as made him hang on to me." - -"You were not doing what you had a right to do. You were assisting to -create a riot," said the magistrate, with that indignation which a -London magistrate should always know how to affect. - -Phineas, however, was allowed to give evidence as to his landlord's -character, and then Bunce was liberated. But before he went he -again swore that that should not be the last of it, and he told the -magistrate that he had been ill-used. When liberated, he was joined -by a dozen sympathising friends, who escorted him home, and among -them were one or two literary gentlemen, employed on those excellent -penny papers, the _People's Banner_ and the _Ballot-box_. It was -their intention that Mr. Bunce's case should not be allowed to sleep. -One of these gentlemen made a distinct offer to Phineas Finn of -unbounded popularity during life and of immortality afterwards, -if he, as a member of Parliament, would take up Bunce's case with -vigour. Phineas, not quite understanding the nature of the offer, and -not as yet knowing the profession of the gentleman, gave some general -reply. - -"You come out strong, Mr. Finn, and we'll see that you are properly -reported. I'm on the _Banner_, sir, and I'll answer for that." - -Phineas, who had been somewhat eager in expressing his sympathy -with Bunce, and had not given very close attention to the gentleman -who was addressing him, was still in the dark. The nature of the -_Banner_, which the gentleman was on, did not at once come home to -him. - -"Something ought to be done, certainly," said Phineas. - -"We shall take it up strong," said the gentleman, "and we shall be -happy to have you among us. You'll find, Mr. Finn, that in public -life there's nothing like having a horgan to back you. What is the -most you can do in the 'Ouse? Nothing, if you're not reported. You're -speaking to the country;--ain't you? And you can't do that without a -horgan, Mr. Finn. You come among us on the _Banner_, Mr. Finn. You -can't do better." - -Then Phineas understood the nature of the offer made to him. As they -parted, the literary gentleman gave our hero his card. "Mr. Quintus -Slide." So much was printed. Then, on the corner of the card was -written, "_Banner_ Office, 137, Fetter Lane." Mr. Quintus Slide -was a young man, under thirty, not remarkable for clean linen, and -who always talked of the "'Ouse." But he was a well-known and not -undistinguished member of a powerful class of men. He had been a -reporter, and as such knew the "'Ouse" well, and was a writer for the -press. And, though he talked of "'Ouses" and "horgans", he wrote good -English with great rapidity, and was possessed of that special sort -of political fervour which shows itself in a man's work rather than -in his conduct. It was Mr. Slide's taste to be an advanced reformer, -and in all his operations on behalf of the _People's Banner_ he -was a reformer very much advanced. No man could do an article on the -people's indefeasible rights with more pronounced vigour than Mr. -Slide. But it had never occurred to him as yet that he ought to care -for anything else than the fight,--than the advantage of having a -good subject on which to write slashing articles. Mr. Slide was an -energetic but not a thoughtful man; but in his thoughts on politics, -as far as they went with him, he regarded the wrongs of the people as -being of infinitely greater value than their rights. It was not that -he was insincere in all that he was daily saying;--but simply that -he never thought about it. Very early in life he had fallen among -"people's friends," and an opening on the liberal press had come in -his way. To be a "people's friend" suited the turn of his ambition, -and he was a "people's friend." It was his business to abuse -Government, and to express on all occasions an opinion that as a -matter of course the ruling powers were the "people's enemies." Had -the ruling powers ceased to be the "people's enemies," Mr. Slide's -ground would have been taken from under his feet. But such a -catastrophe was out of the question. That excellent old arrangement -that had gone on since demagogues were first invented was in -full vigour. There were the ruling powers and there were the -people,--devils on one side and angels on the other,--and as long -as a people's friend had a pen in his hand all was right. - -Phineas, when he left the indignant Bunce to go among his friends, -walked to the House thinking a good deal of what Mr. Slide had said -to him. The potted peas Committee was again on, and he had intended -to be in the Committee Room by twelve punctually: but he had been -unable to leave Mr. Bunce in the lurch, and it was now past one. -Indeed, he had, from one unfortunate circumstance after another, -failed hitherto in giving to the potted peas that resolute attention -which the subject demanded. On the present occasion his mind was full -of Mr. Quintus Slide and the _People's Banner_. After all, was there -not something in Mr. Slide's proposition? He, Phineas, had come into -Parliament as it were under the wing of a Government pack, and his -friendships, which had been very successful, had been made with -Ministers, and with the friends of Ministers. He had made up his mind -to be Whig Ministerial, and to look for his profession in that line. -He had been specially fortified in this resolution by his dislike -to the ballot,--which dislike had been the result of Mr. Monk's -teaching. Had Mr. Turnbull become his friend instead, it may well be -that he would have liked the ballot. On such subjects men must think -long, and be sure that they have thought in earnest, before they are -justified in saying that their opinions are the results of their -own thoughts. But now he began to reflect how far this ministerial -profession would suit him. Would it be much to be a Lord of the -Treasury, subject to the dominion of Mr. Ratler? Such lordship and -such subjection would be the result of success. He told himself -that he was at heart a true Liberal. Would it not be better for him -to abandon the idea of office trammels, and go among them on the -_People's Banner_? A glow of enthusiasm came over him as he thought -of it. But what would Violet Effingham say to the _People's Banner_ -and Mr. Quintus Slide? And he would have liked the _Banner_ better -had not Mr. Slide talked about the 'Ouse. - -From the Committee Room, in which, alas! he took no active part in -reference to the potted peas, he went down to the House, and was -present when the debate was resumed. Not unnaturally, one speaker -after another made some allusion to the row in the streets, and the -work which had fallen to the lot of the magistrates. Mr. Turnbull -had declared that he would vote against the second reading of Mr. -Mildmay's bill, and had explained that he would do so because he -could consent to no Reform Bill which did not include the ballot as -one of its measures. The debate fashioned itself after this speech of -Mr. Turnbull's, and turned again very much upon the ballot,--although -it had been thought that the late debate had settled that question. -One or two of Mr. Turnbull's followers declared that they also would -vote against the bill,--of course, as not going far enough; and one -or two gentlemen from the Conservative benches extended a spoken -welcome to these new colleagues. Then Mr. Palliser got up and -addressed the House for an hour, struggling hard to bring back the -real subject, and to make the House understand that the ballot, -whether good or bad, had been knocked on the head, and that members -had no right at the present moment to consider anything but the -expediency or inexpediency of so much Reform as Mr. Mildmay presented -to them in the present bill. - -Phineas was determined to speak, and to speak on this evening if he -could catch the Speaker's eye. Again the scene before him was going -round before him; again things became dim, and again he felt his -blood beating hard at his heart. But things were not so bad with -him as they had been before, because he had nothing to remember. He -hardly knew, indeed, what he intended to say. He had an idea that he -was desirous of joining in earnest support of the measure, with a -vehement protest against the injustice which had been done to the -people in general, and to Mr. Bunce in particular. He had firmly -resolved that no fear of losing favour with the Government should -induce him to hold his tongue as to the Buncean cruelties. Sooner -than do so he would certainly "go among them" at the _Banner_ office. - -He started up, wildly, when Mr. Palliser had completed his speech; -but the Speaker's eye, not unnaturally, had travelled to the other -side of the House, and there was a Tory of the old school upon his -legs,--Mr. Western, the member for East Barsetshire, one of the -gallant few who dared to vote against Sir Robert Peel's bill for -repealing the Corn Laws in 1846. Mr. Western spoke with a slow, -ponderous, unimpressive, but very audible voice, for some twenty -minutes, disdaining to make reference to Mr. Turnbull and his -politics, but pleading against any Reform, with all the old -arguments. Phineas did not hear a word that he said;--did not attempt -to hear. He was keen in his resolution to make another attempt at the -Speaker's eye, and at the present moment was thinking of that, and -of that only. He did not even give himself a moment's reflection as -to what his own speech should be. He would dash at it and take his -chance, resolved that at least he would not fail in courage. Twice he -was on his legs before Mr. Western had finished his slow harangue, -and twice he was compelled to reseat himself,--thinking that he had -subjected himself to ridicule. At last the member for East Barset sat -down, and Phineas was conscious that he had lost a moment or two in -presenting himself again to the Speaker. - -He held his ground, however, though he saw that he had various rivals -for the right of speech. He held his ground, and was instantly aware -that he had gained his point. There was a slight pause, and as -some other urgent member did not reseat himself, Phineas heard the -president of that august assembly call upon himself to address the -House. The thing was now to be done. There he was with the House of -Commons at his feet,--a crowded House, bound to be his auditors as -long as he should think fit to address them, and reporters by tens -and twenties in the gallery ready and eager to let the country know -what the young member for Loughshane would say in this his maiden -speech. - -Phineas Finn had sundry gifts, a powerful and pleasant voice, which -he had learned to modulate, a handsome presence, and a certain -natural mixture of modesty and self-reliance, which would certainly -protect him from the faults of arrogance and pomposity, and which, -perhaps, might carry him through the perils of his new position. And -he had also the great advantage of friends in the House who were -anxious that he should do well. But he had not that gift of slow -blood which on the former occasion would have enabled him to remember -his prepared speech, and which would now have placed all his own -resources within his own reach. He began with the expression of an -opinion that every true reformer ought to accept Mr. Mildmay's bill, -even if it were accepted only as an instalment,--but before he had -got through these sentences, he became painfully conscious that he -was repeating his own words. - -He was cheered almost from the outset, and yet he knew as he went -on that he was failing. He had certain arguments at his fingers' -ends,--points with which he was, in truth, so familiar that he need -hardly have troubled himself to arrange them for special use,--and he -forgot even these. He found that he was going on with one platitude -after another as to the benefit of reform, in a manner that would -have shamed him six or seven years ago at a debating club. He pressed -on, fearing that words would fail him altogether if he paused;--but -he did in truth speak very much too fast, knocking his words together -so that no reporter could properly catch them. But he had nothing to -say for the bill except what hundreds had said before, and hundreds -would say again. Still he was cheered, and still he went on; and as -he became more and more conscious of his failure there grew upon him -the idea,--the dangerous hope, that he might still save himself from -ignominy by the eloquence of his invective against the police. - -He tried it, and succeeded thoroughly in making the House understand -that he was very angry,--but he succeeded in nothing else. He could -not catch the words to express the thoughts of his mind. He could not -explain his idea that the people out of the House had as much right -to express their opinion in favour of the ballot as members in the -House had to express theirs against it; and that animosity had been -shown to the people by the authorities because they had so expressed -their opinion. Then he attempted to tell the story of Mr. Bunce in a -light and airy way, failed, and sat down in the middle of it. Again -he was cheered by all around him,--cheered as a new member is usually -cheered,--and in the midst of the cheer would have blown out his -brains had there been a pistol there ready for such an operation. - -That hour with him was very bad. He did not know how to get up and -go away, or how to keep his place. For some time he sat with his -hat off, forgetful of his privilege of wearing it; and then put it -on hurriedly, as though the fact of his not wearing it must have -been observed by everybody. At last, at about two, the debate was -adjourned, and then as he was slowly leaving the House, thinking how -he might creep away without companionship, Mr. Monk took him by the -arm. - -"Are you going to walk?" said Mr. Monk. - -"Yes", said Phineas; "I shall walk." - -"Then we may go together as far as Pall Mall. Come along." Phineas -had no means of escape, and left the House hanging on Mr. Monk's arm, -without a word. Nor did Mr. Monk speak till they were out in Palace -Yard. "It was not much amiss," said Mr. Monk; "but you'll do better -than that yet." - -"Mr. Monk," said Phineas, "I have made an ass of myself so -thoroughly, that there will at any rate be this good result, that I -shall never make an ass of myself again after the same fashion." - -"Ah!--I thought you had some such feeling as that, and therefore I -was determined to speak to you. You may be sure, Finn, that I do not -care to flatter you, and I think you ought to know that, as far as I -am able, I will tell you the truth. Your speech, which was certainly -nothing great, was about on a par with other maiden speeches in the -House of Commons. You have done yourself neither good nor harm. Nor -was it desirable that you should. My advice to you now is, never to -avoid speaking on any subject that interests you, but never to speak -for above three minutes till you find yourself as much at home on -your legs as you are when sitting. But do not suppose that you have -made an ass of yourself,--that is, in any special degree. Now, -good-night." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -Phineas Discussed - - -Lady Laura Kennedy heard two accounts of her friend's speech,--and -both from men who had been present. Her husband was in his place, in -accordance with his constant practice, and Lord Brentford had been -seated, perhaps unfortunately, in the peers' gallery. - -"And you think it was a failure?" Lady Laura said to her husband. - -"It certainly was not a success. There was nothing particular about -it. There was a good deal of it you could hardly hear." - -After that she got the morning newspapers, and turned with great -interest to the report. Phineas Finn had been, as it were, adopted by -her as her own political offspring,--or at any rate as her political -godchild. She had made promises on his behalf to various personages -of high political standing,--to her father, to Mr. Monk, to the Duke -of St. Bungay, and even to Mr. Mildmay himself. She had thoroughly -intended that Phineas Finn should be a political success from the -first; and since her marriage, she had, I think, been more intent -upon it than before. Perhaps there was a feeling on her part that -having wronged him in one way, she would repay him in another. She -had become so eager for his success,--for a while scorning to conceal -her feeling,--that her husband had unconsciously begun to entertain -a dislike to her eagerness. We know how quickly women arrive at an -understanding of the feelings of those with whom they live; and now, -on that very occasion, Lady Laura perceived that her husband did not -take in good part her anxiety on behalf of her friend. She saw that -it was so as she turned over the newspaper looking for the report of -the speech. It was given in six lines, and at the end of it there was -an intimation,--expressed in the shape of advice,--that the young -orator had better speak more slowly if he wished to be efficacious -either with the House or with the country. - -"He seems to have been cheered a good deal," said Lady Laura. - -"All members are cheered at their first speech," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"I've no doubt he'll do well yet," said Lady Laura. - -"Very likely," said Mr. Kennedy. Then he turned to his newspaper, and -did not take his eyes off it as long as his wife remained with him. - -Later in the day Lady Laura saw her father, and Miss Effingham was -with her at the time. Lord Brentford said something which indicated -that he had heard the debate on the previous evening, and Lady Laura -instantly began to ask him about Phineas. - -"The less said the better," was the Earl's reply. - -"Do you mean that it was so bad as that?" asked Lady Laura. - -"It was not very bad at first;--though indeed nobody could say it was -very good. But he got himself into a mess about the police and the -magistrates before he had done, and nothing but the kindly feeling -always shown to a first effort saved him from being coughed down." -Lady Laura had not a word more to say about Phineas to her father; -but, womanlike, she resolved that she would not abandon him. How -many first failures in the world had been the precursors of ultimate -success! "Mildmay will lose his bill," said the Earl, sorrowfully. -"There does not seem to be a doubt about that." - -"And what will you all do?" asked Lady Laura. - -"We must go to the country, I suppose," said the Earl. - -"What's the use? You can't have a more liberal House than you have -now," said Lady Laura. - -"We may have one less liberal,--or rather less radical,--with fewer -men to support Mr. Turnbull. I do not see what else we can do. They -say that there are no less than twenty-seven men on our side of the -House who will either vote with Turnbull against us, or will decline -to vote at all." - -"Every one of them ought to lose his seat," said Lady Laura. - -"But what can we do? How is the Queen's Government to be carried on?" -We all know the sad earnestness which impressed itself on the Earl's -brow as he asked these momentous questions. "I don't suppose that Mr. -Turnbull can form a Ministry." - -"With Mr. Daubeny as whipper-in, perhaps he might," said Lady Laura. - -"And will Mr. Finn lose his seat?" asked Violet Effingham. "Most -probably," said the Earl. "He only got it by an accident." - -"You must find him a seat somewhere in England," said Violet. - -"That might be difficult," said the Earl, who then left the room. - -The two women remained together for some quarter of an hour before -they spoke again. Then Lady Laura said something about her brother. -"If there be a dissolution, I hope Oswald will stand for Loughton." -Loughton was a borough close to Saulsby, in which, as regarded its -political interests, Lord Brentford was supposed to have considerable -influence. To this Violet said nothing. "It is quite time," continued -Lady Laura, "that old Mr. Standish should give way. He has had the -seat for twenty-five years, and has never done anything, and he -seldom goes to the House now." - -"He is not your uncle, is he?" - -"No; he is papa's cousin; but he is ever so much older than -papa;--nearly eighty, I believe." - -"Would not that be just the place for Mr. Finn?" said Violet. - -Then Lady Laura became very serious. "Oswald would of course have a -better right to it than anybody else." - -"But would Lord Chiltern go into Parliament? I have heard him declare -that he would not." - -"If we could get papa to ask him, I think he would change his mind," -said Lady Laura. - -There was again silence for a few moments, after which Violet -returned to the original subject of their conversation. "It would be -a thousand pities that Mr. Finn should be turned out into the cold. -Don't you think so?" - -"I, for one, should be very sorry." - -"So should I,--and the more so from what Lord Brentford says about -his not speaking well last night. I don't think that it is very much -of an accomplishment for a gentleman to speak well. Mr. Turnbull, I -suppose, speaks well; and they say that that horrid man, Mr. Bonteen, -can talk by the hour together. I don't think that it shows a man to -be clever at all. But I believe Mr. Finn would do it, if he set his -mind to it, and I shall think it a great shame if they turn him out." - -"It would depend very much, I suppose, on Lord Tulla." - -"I don't know anything about Lord Tulla," said Violet; "but I'm quite -sure that he might have Loughton, if we manage it properly. Of course -Lord Chiltern should have it if he wants it, but I don't think he -will stand in Mr. Finn's way." - -"I'm afraid it's out of the question," said Lady Laura, gravely. -"Papa thinks so much about the borough." The reader will remember -that both Lord Brentford and his daughter were thorough reformers! -The use of a little borough of his own, however, is a convenience to -a great peer. - -"Those difficult things have always to be talked of for a long while, -and then they become easy," said Violet. "I believe if you were -to propose to Mr. Kennedy to give all his property to the Church -Missionaries and emigrate to New Zealand, he'd begin to consider it -seriously after a time." - -"I shall not try, at any rate." - -"Because you don't want to go to New Zealand;--but you might try -about Loughton for poor Mr. Finn." - -"Violet," said Lady Laura, after a moment's pause;--and she spoke -sharply; "Violet, I believe you are in love with Mr. Finn." - -"That's just like you, Laura." - -"I never made such an accusation against you before, or against -anybody else that I can remember. But I do begin to believe that you -are in love with Mr. Finn." - -"Why shouldn't I be in love with him, if I like?" - -"I say nothing about that;--only he has not got a penny." - -"But I have, my dear." - -"And I doubt whether you have any reason for supposing that he is in -love with you." - -"That would be my affair, my dear." - -"Then you are in love with him?" - -"That is my affair also." - -Lady Laura shrugged her shoulders. "Of course it is; and if you tell -me to hold my tongue, of course I will do so. If you ask me whether I -think it a good match, of course I must say I do not." - -"I don't tell you to hold your tongue, and I don't ask you what you -think about the match. You are quite welcome to talk as much about me -as you please;--but as to Mr. Phineas Finn, you have no business to -think anything." - -"I shouldn't talk to anybody but yourself." - -"I am growing to be quite indifferent as to what people say. Lady -Baldock asked me the other day whether I was going to throw myself -away on Mr. Laurence Fitzgibbon." - -"No!" - -"Indeed she did." - -"And what did you answer?" - -"I told her that it was not quite settled; but that as I had only -spoken to him once during the last two years, and then for not more -than half a minute, and as I wasn't sure whether I knew him by sight, -and as I had reason to suppose he didn't know my name, there might, -perhaps, be a delay of a week or two before the thing came off. Then -she flounced out of the room." - -"But what made her ask about Mr. Fitzgibbon?" - -"Somebody had been hoaxing her. I am beginning to think that Augusta -does it for her private amusement. If so, I shall think more highly -of my dear cousin than I have hitherto done. But, Laura, as you -have made a similar accusation against me, and as I cannot get out -of it with you as I do with my aunt, I must ask you to hear my -protestation. I am not in love with Mr. Phineas Finn. Heaven help -me;--as far as I can tell, I am not in love with any one, and never -shall be." Lady Laura looked pleased. "Do you know," continued -Violet, "that I think I could be in love with Mr. Phineas Finn, if -I could be in love with anybody?" Then Lady Laura looked displeased. -"In the first place, he is a gentleman," continued Violet. "Then he -is a man of spirit. And then he has not too much spirit;--not that -kind of spirit which makes some men think that they are the finest -things going. His manners are perfect;--not Chesterfieldian, and yet -never offensive. He never browbeats any one, and never toadies any -one. He knows how to live easily with men of all ranks, without any -appearance of claiming a special status for himself. If he were made -Archbishop of Canterbury to-morrow, I believe he would settle down -into the place of the first subject in the land without arrogance, -and without false shame." - -"You are his eulogist with a vengeance." - -"I am his eulogist; but I am not in love with him. If he were to -ask me to be his wife to-morrow, I should be distressed, and should -refuse him. If he were to marry my dearest friend in the world, I -should tell him to kiss me and be my brother. As to Mr. Phineas -Finn,--those are my sentiments." - -"What you say is very odd." - -"Why odd?" - -"Simply because mine are the same." - -"Are they the same? I once thought, Laura, that you did love -him;--that you meant to be his wife." - -Lady Laura sat for a while without making any reply to this. She -sat with her elbow on the table and with her face leaning on her -hand,--thinking how far it would tend to her comfort if she spoke in -true confidence. Violet during the time never took her eyes from her -friend's face, but remained silent as though waiting for an answer. -She had been very explicit as to her feelings. Would Laura Kennedy be -equally explicit? She was too clever to forget that such plainness -of speech would be, must be more difficult to Lady Laura than to -herself. Lady Laura was a married woman; but she felt that her friend -would have been wrong to search for secrets, unless she were ready to -tell her own. It was probably some such feeling which made Lady Laura -speak at last. - -"So I did, nearly--" said Lady Laura; "very nearly. You told me just -now that you had money, and could therefore do as you pleased. I had -no money, and could not do as I pleased." - -"And you told me also that I had no reason for thinking that he cared -for me." - -"Did I? Well;--I suppose you have no reason. He did care for me. He -did love me." - -"He told you so?" - -"Yes;--he told me so." - -"And how did you answer him?" - -"I had that very morning become engaged to Mr. Kennedy. That was my -answer." - -"And what did he say when you told him?" - -"I do not know. I cannot remember. But he behaved very well." - -"And now,--if he were to love me, you would grudge me his love?" - -"Not for that reason,--not if I know myself. Oh no! I would not be so -selfish as that." - -"For what reason then?" - -"Because I look upon it as written in heaven that you are to be -Oswald's wife." - -"Heaven's writings then are false," said Violet, getting up and -walking away. - -In the meantime Phineas was very wretched at home. When he reached -his lodgings after leaving the House,--after his short conversation -with Mr. Monk,--he tried to comfort himself with what that gentleman -had said to him. For a while, while he was walking, there had been -some comfort in Mr. Monk's words. Mr. Monk had much experience, and -doubtless knew what he was saying,--and there might yet be hope. But -all this hope faded away when Phineas was in his own rooms. There -came upon him, as he looked round them, an idea that he had no -business to be in Parliament, that he was an impostor, that he was -going about the world under false pretences, and that he would never -set himself aright, even unto himself, till he had gone through some -terrible act of humiliation. He had been a cheat even to Mr. Quintus -Slide of the _Banner_, in accepting an invitation to come among -them. He had been a cheat to Lady Laura, in that he had induced -her to think that he was fit to live with her. He was a cheat to -Violet Effingham, in assuming that he was capable of making himself -agreeable to her. He was a cheat to Lord Chiltern when riding his -horses, and pretending to be a proper associate for a man of fortune. -Why,--what was his income? What his birth? What his proper position? -And now he had got the reward which all cheats deserve. Then he went -to bed, and as he lay there, he thought of Mary Flood Jones. Had he -plighted his troth to Mary, and then worked like a slave under Mr. -Low's auspices,--he would not have been a cheat. - -It seemed to him that he had hardly been asleep when the girl -came into his room in the morning. "Sir," said she, "there's that -gentleman there." - -"What gentleman?" - -"The old gentleman." - -Then Phineas knew that Mr. Clarkson was in his sitting-room, and -that he would not leave it till he had seen the owner of the room. -Nay,--Phineas was pretty sure that Mr. Clarkson would come into the -bedroom, if he were kept long waiting. "Damn the old gentleman," said -Phineas in his wrath;--and the maid-servant heard him say so. - -In about twenty minutes he went out into the sitting-room, with -his slippers on and in his dressing-gown. Suffering under the -circumstances of such an emergency, how is any man to go through the -work of dressing and washing with proper exactness? As to the prayers -which he said on that morning, I think that no question should be -asked. He came out with a black cloud on his brow, and with his mind -half made up to kick Mr. Clarkson out of the room. Mr. Clarkson, when -he saw him, moved his chin round within his white cravat, as was a -custom with him, and put his thumb and forefinger on his lips, and -then shook his head. - -"Very bad, Mr. Finn; very bad indeed; very bad, ain't it?" - -"You coming here in this way at all times in the day is very bad," -said Phineas. - -"And where would you have me go? Would you like to see me down in the -lobby of the House?" - -"To tell you the truth, Mr. Clarkson, I don't want to see you -anywhere." - -"Ah; yes; I daresay! And that's what you call honest, being a -Parliament gent! You had my money, and then you tell me you don't -want to see me any more!" - -"I have not had your money," said Phineas. - -"But let me tell you," continued Mr. Clarkson, "that I want to see -you;--and shall go on seeing you till the money is paid." - -"I've not had any of your money," said Phineas. - -Mr. Clarkson again twitched his chin about on the top of his cravat -and smiled. "Mr. Finn," said he, showing the bill, "is that your -name?" - -"Yes, it is." - -"Then I want my money." - -"I have no money to give you." - -"Do be punctual now. Why ain't you punctual? I'd do anything for you -if you were punctual. I would indeed." Mr. Clarkson, as he said this, -sat down in the chair which had been placed for our hero's breakfast, -and cutting a slice off the loaf, began to butter it with great -composure. - -"Mr. Clarkson," said Phineas, "I cannot ask you to breakfast here. I -am engaged." - -"I'll just take a bit of bread and butter all the same," said -Clarkson. "Where do you get your butter? Now I could tell you a woman -who'd give it you cheaper and a deal better than this. This is all -lard. Shall I send her to you?" - -"No," said Phineas. There was no tea ready, and therefore Mr. -Clarkson emptied the milk into a cup and drank it. "After this," said -Phineas, "I must beg, Mr. Clarkson, that you will never come to my -room any more. I shall not be at home to you." - -"The lobby of the House is the same thing to me," said Mr. Clarkson. -"They know me there well. I wish you'd be punctual, and then we'd be -the best of friends." After that Mr. Clarkson, having finished his -bread and butter, took his leave. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -The Second Reading Is Carried - - -The debate on the bill was prolonged during the whole of that week. -Lord Brentford, who loved his seat in the Cabinet and the glory of -being a Minister, better even than he loved his borough, had taken -a gloomy estimate when he spoke of twenty-seven defaulters, and of -the bill as certainly lost. Men who were better able than he to make -estimates,--the Bonteens and Fitzgibbons on each side of the House, -and above all, the Ratlers and Robys, produced lists from day to -day which varied now by three names in one direction, then by two -in another, and which fluctuated at last by units only. They all -concurred in declaring that it would be a very near division. A great -effort was made to close the debate on the Friday, but it failed, and -the full tide of speech was carried on till the following Monday. On -that morning Phineas heard Mr. Ratler declare at the club that, as -far as his judgment went, the division at that moment was a fair -subject for a bet. "There are two men doubtful in the House," said -Ratler, "and if one votes on one side and one on the other, or if -neither votes at all, it will be a tie." Mr. Roby, however, the -whip on the other side, was quite sure that one at least of these -gentlemen would go into his lobby, and that the other would not go -into Mr. Ratler's lobby. I am inclined to think that the town was -generally inclined to put more confidence in the accuracy of Mr. Roby -than in that of Mr. Ratler; and among betting men there certainly -was a point given by those who backed the Conservatives. The odds, -however, were lost, for on the division the numbers in the two -lobbies were equal, and the Speaker gave his casting vote in favour -of the Government. The bill was read a second time, and was lost, as -a matter of course, in reference to any subsequent action. Mr. Roby -declared that even Mr. Mildmay could not go on with nothing but the -Speaker's vote to support him. Mr. Mildmay had no doubt felt that he -could not go on with his bill from the moment in which Mr. Turnbull -had declared his opposition; but he could not with propriety withdraw -it in deference to Mr. Turnbull's opinion. - -During the week Phineas had had his hands sufficiently full. Twice he -had gone to the potted peas inquiry; but he had been at the office -of the _People's Banner_ more often than that. Bunce had been very -resolute in his determination to bring an action against the police -for false imprisonment, even though he spent every shilling of his -savings in doing so. And when his wife, in the presence of Phineas, -begged that bygones might be bygones, reminding him that spilt milk -could not be recovered, he called her a mean-spirited woman. Then -Mrs. Bunce wept a flood of tears, and told her favourite lodger that -for her all comfort in this world was over. "Drat the reformers, I -say. And I wish there was no Parliament; so I do. What's the use of -all the voting, when it means nothing but dry bread and cross words?" -Phineas by no means encouraged his landlord in his litigious spirit, -advising him rather to keep his money in his pocket, and leave the -fighting of the battle to the columns of the _Banner_,--which would -fight it, at any rate, with economy. But Bunce, though he delighted -in the _Banner_, and showed an unfortunate readiness to sit at the -feet of Mr. Quintus Slide, would have his action at law;--in which -resolution Mr. Slide did, I fear, encourage him behind the back of -his better friend, Phineas Finn. - -Phineas went with Bunce to Mr. Low's chambers,--for Mr. Low had in -some way become acquainted with the law-stationer's journeyman,--and -there some very good advice was given. "Have you asked yourself what -is your object, Mr. Bunce?" said Mr. Low. Mr. Bunce declared he had -asked himself that question, and had answered it. His object was -redress. "In the shape of compensation to yourself," suggested Mr. -Low. No; Mr. Bunce would not admit that he personally required any -compensation. The redress wanted was punishment to the man. "Is it -for vengeance?" asked Mr. Low. No; it was not for vengeance, Mr. -Bunce declared. "It ought not to be," continued Mr. Low; "because, -though you think that the man exceeded in his duty, you must feel -that he was doing so through no personal ill-will to yourself." - -"What I want is, to have the fellows kept in their proper places," -said Mr. Bunce. - -"Exactly;--and therefore these things, when they occur, are mentioned -in the press and in Parliament,--and the attention of a Secretary of -State is called to them. Thank God, we don't have very much of that -kind of thing in England." - -"Maybe we shall have more if we don't look to it," said Bunce -stoutly. - -"We always are looking to it," said Mr. Low;--"looking to it very -carefully. But I don't think anything is to be done in that way by -indictment against a single man, whose conduct has been already -approved by the magistrates. If you want notoriety, Mr. Bunce, and -don't mind what you pay for it; or have got anybody else to pay for -it; then indeed--" - -"There ain't nobody to pay for it," said Bunce, waxing angry. - -"Then I certainly should not pay for it myself if I were you," said -Mr. Low. - -But Bunce was not to be counselled out of his intention. When he was -out in the square with Phineas he expressed great anger against Mr. -Low. "He don't know what patriotism means," said the law scrivener. -"And then he talks to me about notoriety! It has always been the -same way with 'em. If a man shows a spark of public feeling, it's -all hambition. I don't want no notoriety. I wants to earn my bread -peaceable, and to be let alone when I'm about my own business. I pays -rates for the police to look after rogues, not to haul folks about -and lock 'em up for days and nights, who is doing what they has a -legal right to do." After that, Bunce went to his attorney, to the -great detriment of the business at the stationer's shop, and Phineas -visited the office of the _People's Banner_. There he wrote a leading -article about Bunce's case, for which he was in due time to be paid -a guinea. After all, the _People's Banner_ might do more for him in -this way than ever would be done by Parliament. Mr. Slide, however, -and another gentleman at the _Banner_ office, much older than Mr. -Slide, who announced himself as the actual editor, were anxious that -Phineas should rid himself of his heterodox political resolutions -about the ballot. It was not that they cared much about his own -opinions; and when Phineas attempted to argue with the editor on the -merits of the ballot, the editor put him down very shortly. "We go in -for it, Mr. Finn," he said. If Mr. Finn would go in for it too, the -editor seemed to think that Mr. Finn might make himself very useful -at the _Banner_ Office. Phineas stoutly maintained that this was -impossible,--and was therefore driven to confine his articles in the -service of the people to those open subjects on which his opinions -agreed with those of the _People's Banner_. This was his second -article, and the editor seemed to think that, backward as he was -about the ballot, he was too useful an aid to be thrown aside. A -member of Parliament is not now all that he was once, but still there -is a prestige in the letters affixed to his name which makes him loom -larger in the eyes of the world than other men. Get into Parliament, -if it be but for the borough of Loughshane, and the _People's -Banners_ all round will be glad of your assistance, as will also -companies limited and unlimited to a very marvellous extent. Phineas -wrote his article and promised to look in again, and so they went -on. Mr. Quintus Slide continued to assure him that a "horgan" was -indispensable to him, and Phineas began to accommodate his ears to -the sound which had at first been so disagreeable. He found that his -acquaintance, Mr. Slide, had ideas of his own as to getting into -the 'Ouse at some future time. "I always look upon the 'Ouse as my -oyster, and 'ere's my sword," said Mr. Slide, brandishing an old -quill pen. "And I feel that if once there I could get along. I do -indeed. What is it a man wants? It's only pluck,--that he shouldn't -funk because a 'undred other men are looking at him." Then Phineas -asked him whether he had any idea of a constituency, to which Mr. -Slide replied that he had no absolutely formed intention. Many -boroughs, however, would doubtless be set free from aristocratic -influence by the redistribution of seats which must take place, as -Mr. Slide declared, at any rate in the next session. Then he named -the borough of Loughton; and Phineas Finn, thinking of Saulsby, -thinking of the Earl, thinking of Lady Laura, and thinking of Violet, -walked away disgusted. Would it not be better that the quiet town, -clustering close round the walls of Saulsby, should remain as it was, -than that it should be polluted by the presence of Mr. Quintus Slide? - -On the last day of the debate, at a few moments before four o'clock, -Phineas encountered another terrible misfortune. He had been at the -potted peas since twelve, and had on this occasion targed two or -three commissariat officers very tightly with questions respecting -cabbages and potatoes, and had asked whether the officers on board -a certain ship did not always eat preserved asparagus while the men -had not even a bean. I fear that he had been put up to this business -by Mr. Quintus Slide, and that he made himself nasty. There was, -however, so much nastiness of the kind going, that his little effort -made no great difference. The conservative members of the Committee, -on whose side of the House the inquiry had originated, did not -scruple to lay all manner of charges to officers whom, were they -themselves in power, they would be bound to support and would support -with all their energies. About a quarter before four the members of -the Committee had dismissed their last witness for the day, being -desirous of not losing their chance of seats on so important an -occasion, and hurried down into the lobby,--so that they might enter -the House before prayers. Phineas here was button-holed by Barrington -Erle, who said something to him as to the approaching division. They -were standing in front of the door of the House, almost in the middle -of the lobby, with a crowd of members around them,--on a spot which, -as frequenters know, is hallowed ground, and must not be trodden by -strangers. He was in the act of answering Erle, when he was touched -on the arm, and on turning round, saw Mr. Clarkson. "About that -little bill, Mr. Finn," said the horrible man, turning his chin round -over his white cravat. "They always tell me at your lodgings that -you ain't at home." By this time a policeman was explaining to Mr. -Clarkson with gentle violence that he must not stand there,--that he -must go aside into one of the corners. "I know all that," said Mr. -Clarkson, retreating. "Of course I do. But what is a man to do when a -gent won't see him at home?" Mr. Clarkson stood aside in his corner -quietly, giving the policeman no occasion for further action against -him; but in retreating he spoke loud, and there was a lull of voices -around, and twenty members at least had heard what had been said. -Phineas Finn no doubt had his privilege, but Mr. Clarkson was -determined that the privilege should avail him as little as possible. - -It was very hard. The real offender, the Lord of the Treasury, the -peer's son, with a thousand a year paid by the country was not -treated with this cruel persecution. Phineas had in truth never taken -a farthing from any one but his father; and though doubtless he owed -something at this moment, he had no creditor of his own that was even -angry with him. As the world goes he was a clear man,--but for this -debt of his friend Fitzgibbon. He left Barrington Erle in the lobby, -and hurried into the House, blushing up to the eyes. He looked for -Fitzgibbon in his place, but the Lord of the Treasury was not as yet -there. Doubtless he would be there for the division, and Phineas -resolved that he would speak a bit of his mind before he let his -friend out of his sight. - -There were some great speeches made on that evening. Mr. Gresham -delivered an oration of which men said that it would be known in -England as long as there were any words remaining of English -eloquence. In it he taunted Mr. Turnbull with being a recreant to -the people, of whom he called himself so often the champion. But Mr. -Turnbull was not in the least moved. Mr. Gresham knew well enough -that Mr. Turnbull was not to be moved by any words;--but the words -were not the less telling to the House and to the country. Men, who -heard it, said that Mr. Gresham forgot himself in that speech, forgot -his party, forgot his strategy, forgot his long-drawn schemes,--even -his love of applause, and thought only of his cause. Mr. Daubeny -replied to him with equal genius, and with equal skill,--if not with -equal heart. Mr. Gresham had asked for the approbation of all present -and of all future reformers. Mr. Daubeny denied him both,--the one -because he would not succeed, and the other because he would not have -deserved success. Then Mr. Mildmay made his reply, getting up at -about three o'clock, and uttered a prayer,--a futile prayer,--that -this his last work on behalf of his countrymen might be successful. -His bill was read a second time, as I have said before, in obedience -to the casting vote of the Speaker,--but a majority such as that was -tantamount to a defeat. - -There was, of course, on that night no declaration as to what -ministers would do. Without a meeting of the Cabinet, and without -some further consideration, though each might know that the bill -would be withdrawn, they could not say in what way they would act. -But late as was the hour, there were many words on the subject before -members were in their beds. Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Monk left the House -together, and perhaps no two gentlemen in it had in former sessions -been more in the habit of walking home arm-in-arm and discussing what -each had heard and what each had said in that assembly. Latterly -these two men had gone strangely asunder in their paths,--very -strangely for men who had for years walked so closely together. And -this separation had been marked by violent words spoken against each -other,--by violent words, at least, spoken against him in office by -the one who had never contaminated his hands by the Queen's shilling. -And yet, on such an occasion as this, they were able to walk away -from the House arm-in-arm, and did not fly at each other's throat by -the way. - -"Singular enough, is it not," said Mr. Turnbull, "that the thing -should have been so close?" - -"Very odd," said Mr. Monk; "but men have said that it would be so all -the week." - -"Gresham was very fine," said Mr. Turnbull. - -"Very fine, indeed. I never have heard anything like it before." - -"Daubeny was very powerful too," said Mr. Turnbull. - -"Yes;--no doubt. The occasion was great, and he answered to the spur. -But Gresham's was the speech of the debate." - -"Well;--yes; perhaps it was," said Mr. Turnbull, who was thinking of -his own flight the other night, and who among his special friends had -been much praised for what he had then done. But of course he made -no allusion to his own doings,--or to those of Mr. Monk. In this way -they conversed for some twenty minutes, till they parted; but neither -of them interrogated the other as to what either might be called upon -to do in consequence of the division which had just been effected. -They might still be intimate friends, but the days of confidence -between them were passed. - -Phineas had seen Laurence Fitzgibbon enter the House,--which he did -quite late in the night, so as to be in time for the division. No -doubt he had dined in the House, and had been all the evening in the -library,--or in the smoking-room. When Mr. Mildmay was on his legs -making his reply, Fitzgibbon had sauntered in, not choosing to wait -till he might be rung up by the bell at the last moment. Phineas was -near him as they passed by the tellers, near him in the lobby, and -near him again as they all passed back into the House. But at the -last moment he thought that he would miss his prey. In the crowd -as they left the House he failed to get his hand upon his friend's -shoulder. But he hurried down the members' passage, and just at the -gate leading out into Westminster Hall he overtook Fitzgibbon walking -arm-in-arm with Barrington Erle. - -"Laurence," he said, taking hold of his countryman's arm with a -decided grasp, "I want to speak to you for a moment, if you please." - -"Speak away," said Laurence. Then Phineas, looking up into his face, -knew very well that he had been--what the world calls, dining. - -Phineas remembered at the moment that Barrington Erle had been close -to him when the odious money-lender had touched his arm and made -his inquiry about that "little bill." He much wished to make Erle -understand that the debt was not his own,--that he was not in the -hands of usurers in reference to his own concerns. But there was a -feeling within him that he still,--even still,--owed something to his -friendship to Fitzgibbon. "Just give me your arm, and come on with me -for a minute," said Phineas. "Erle will excuse us." - -"Oh, blazes!" said Laurence, "what is it you're after? I ain't good -at private conferences at three in the morning. We're all out, and -isn't that enough for ye?" - -"I have been dreadfully annoyed to-night," said Phineas, "and I -wished to speak to you about it." - -"Bedad, Finn, my boy, and there are a good many of us are -annoyed;--eh, Barrington?" - -Phineas perceived clearly that though Fitzgibbon had been dining, -there was as much of cunning in all this as of wine, and he was -determined not to submit to such unlimited ill-usage. "My annoyance -comes from your friend, Mr. Clarkson, who had the impudence to -address me in the lobby of the House." - -"And serve you right, too, Finn, my boy. Why the devil did you sport -your oak to him? He has told me all about it. There ain't such a -patient little fellow as Clarkson anywhere, if you'll only let him -have his own way. He'll look in, as he calls it, three times a week -for a whole season, and do nothing further. Of course he don't like -to be locked out." - -"Is that the gentleman with whom the police interfered in the lobby?" -Erle inquired. - -"A confounded bill discounter to whom our friend here has introduced -me,--for his own purposes," said Phineas. - -"A very gentleman-like fellow," said Laurence. "Barrington knows -him, I daresay. Look here, Finn, my boy, take my advice. Ask him to -breakfast, and let him understand that the house will always be open -to him." After this Laurence Fitzgibbon and Barrington Erle got into -a cab together, and were driven away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -A Cabinet Meeting - - -And now will the Muses assist me while I sing an altogether new song? -On the Tuesday the Cabinet met at the First Lord's official residence -in Downing Street, and I will attempt to describe what, according to -the bewildered brain of a poor fictionist, was said or might have -been said, what was done or might have been done, on so august an -occasion. - -The poor fictionist very frequently finds himself to have been wrong -in his description of things in general, and is told so, roughly by -the critics, and tenderly by the friends of his bosom. He is moved -to tell of things of which he omits to learn the nature before he -tells of them--as should be done by a strictly honest fictionist. He -catches salmon in October; or shoots his partridges in March. His -dahlias bloom in June, and his birds sing in the autumn. He opens the -opera-houses before Easter, and makes Parliament sit on a Wednesday -evening. And then those terrible meshes of the Law! How is a -fictionist, in these excited days, to create the needed biting -interest without legal difficulties; and how again is he to steer his -little bark clear of so many rocks,--when the rocks and the shoals -have been purposely arranged to make the taking of a pilot on board a -necessity? As to those law meshes, a benevolent pilot will, indeed, -now and again give a poor fictionist a helping hand,--not used, -however, generally, with much discretion. But from whom is any -assistance to come in the august matter of a Cabinet assembly? There -can be no such assistance. No man can tell aught but they who will -tell nothing. But then, again, there is this safety, that let the -story be ever so mistold,--let the fiction be ever so far removed -from the truth, no critic short of a Cabinet Minister himself can -convict the narrator of error. - -It was a large dingy room, covered with a Turkey carpet, and -containing a dark polished mahogany dinner-table, on very heavy -carved legs, which an old messenger was preparing at two o'clock in -the day for the use of her Majesty's Ministers. The table would have -been large enough for fourteen guests, and along the side further -from the fire, there were placed some six heavy chairs, good -comfortable chairs, stuffed at the back as well as the seat,--but on -the side nearer to the fire the chairs were placed irregularly; and -there were four armchairs,--two on one side and two on the other. -There were four windows to the room, which looked on to St. James's -Park, and the curtains of the windows were dark and heavy,--as became -the gravity of the purposes to which that chamber was appropriated. -In old days it had been the dining-room of one Prime Minister after -another. To Pitt it had been the abode of his own familiar prandial -Penates, and Lord Liverpool had been dull there among his dull -friends for long year after year. The Ministers of the present day -find it more convenient to live in private homes, and, indeed, not -unfrequently carry their Cabinets with them. But, under Mr. Mildmay's -rule, the meetings were generally held in the old room at the -official residence. Thrice did the aged messenger move each armchair, -now a little this way and now a little that, and then look at them as -though something of the tendency of the coming meeting might depend -on the comfort of its leading members. If Mr. Mildmay should find -himself to be quite comfortable, so that he could hear what was said -without a struggle to his ear, and see his colleagues' faces clearly, -and feel the fire without burning his shins, it might be possible -that he would not insist upon resigning. If this were so, how -important was the work now confided to the hands of that aged -messenger! When his anxious eyes had glanced round the room some -half a dozen times, when he had touched each curtain, laid his -hand upon every chair, and dusted certain papers which lay upon a -side-table,--and which had been lying there for two years, and at -which no one ever looked or would look,--he gently crept away and -ensconced himself in an easy chair not far from the door of the -chamber. For it might be necessary to stop the attempt of a rash -intruder on those secret counsels. - -Very shortly there was heard the ring of various voices in the -passages,--the voices of men speaking pleasantly, the voices of men -with whom it seemed, from their tone, that things were doing well -in the world. And then a cluster of four or five gentlemen entered -the room. At first sight they seemed to be as ordinary gentlemen as -you shall meet anywhere about Pall Mall on an afternoon. There was -nothing about their outward appearance of the august wiggery of -statecraft, nothing of the ponderous dignity of ministerial position. -That little man in the square-cut coat,--we may almost call it a -shooting-coat,--swinging an umbrella and wearing no gloves, is no -less a person than the Lord Chancellor,--Lord Weazeling,--who made -a hundred thousand pounds as Attorney-General, and is supposed -to be the best lawyer of his age. He is fifty, but he looks to -be hardly over forty, and one might take him to be, from his -appearance,--perhaps a clerk in the War Office, well-to-do, and -popular among his brother-clerks. Immediately with him is Sir Harry -Coldfoot, also a lawyer by profession, though he has never practised. -He has been in the House for nearly thirty years, and is now at the -Home Office. He is a stout, healthy, grey-haired gentleman, who -certainly does not wear the cares of office on his face. Perhaps, -however, no minister gets more bullied than he by the press, and men -say that he will be very willing to give up to some political enemy -the control of the police, and the onerous duty of judging in all -criminal appeals. Behind these come our friend Mr. Monk, young Lord -Cantrip from the colonies next door, than whom no smarter young peer -now does honour to our hereditary legislature, and Sir Marmaduke -Morecombe, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. Why Sir -Marmaduke has always been placed in Mr. Mildmay's Cabinets nobody -ever knew. As Chancellor of the Duchy he has nothing to do,--and were -there anything, he would not do it. He rarely speaks in the House, -and then does not speak well. He is a handsome man, or would be but -for an assumption of grandeur in the carriage of his eyes, giving to -his face a character of pomposity which he himself well deserves. He -was in the Guards when young, and has been in Parliament since he -ceased to be young. It must be supposed that Mr. Mildmay has found -something in him, for he has been included in three successive -liberal Cabinets. He has probably the virtue of being true to Mr. -Mildmay, and of being duly submissive to one whom he recognises as -his superior. - -Within two minutes afterwards the Duke followed, with Plantagenet -Palliser. The Duke, as all the world knows, was the Duke of St. -Bungay, the very front and head of the aristocratic old Whigs of the -country,--a man who has been thrice spoken of as Prime Minister, and -who really might have filled the office had he not known himself to -be unfit for it. The Duke has been consulted as to the making of -Cabinets for the last five-and-thirty years, and is even now not an -old man in appearance;--a fussy, popular, clever, conscientious man, -whose digestion has been too good to make politics a burden to him, -but who has thought seriously about his country, and is one who will -be sure to leave memoirs behind him. He was born in the semi-purple -of ministerial influences, and men say of him that he is honester -than his uncle, who was Canning's friend, but not so great a man as -his grandfather, with whom Fox once quarrelled, and whom Burke loved. -Plantagenet Palliser, himself the heir to a dukedom, was the young -Chancellor of the Exchequer, of whom some statesmen thought much as -the rising star of the age. If industry, rectitude of purpose, and -a certain clearness of intellect may prevail, Planty Pall, as he is -familiarly called, may become a great Minister. - -Then came Viscount Thrift by himself;--the First Lord of the -Admiralty, with the whole weight of a new iron-clad fleet upon his -shoulders. He has undertaken the Herculean task of cleansing the -dockyards,--and with it the lesser work of keeping afloat a navy that -may be esteemed by his countrymen to be the best in the world. And he -thinks that he will do both, if only Mr. Mildmay will not resign;--an -industrious, honest, self-denying nobleman, who works without ceasing -from morn to night, and who hopes to rise in time to high things,--to -the translating of Homer, perhaps, and the wearing of the Garter. - -Close behind him there was a ruck of Ministers, with the -much-honoured grey-haired old Premier in the midst of them. There was -Mr. Gresham, the Foreign Minister, said to be the greatest orator -in Europe, on whose shoulders it was thought that the mantle of Mr. -Mildmay would fall,--to be worn, however, quite otherwise than Mr. -Mildmay had worn it. For Mr. Gresham is a man with no feelings -for the past, void of historical association, hardly with -memories,--living altogether for the future which he is anxious to -fashion anew out of the vigour of his own brain. Whereas, with Mr. -Mildmay, even his love of reform is an inherited passion for an -old-world Liberalism. And there was with them Mr. Legge Wilson, the -brother of a peer, Secretary at War, a great scholar and a polished -gentleman, very proud of his position as a Cabinet Minister, but -conscious that he has hardly earned it by political work. And Lord -Plinlimmon is with them, the Comptroller of India,--of all working -lords the most jaunty, the most pleasant, and the most popular, very -good at taking chairs at dinners, and making becoming speeches at the -shortest notice, a man apparently very free and open in his ways of -life,--but cautious enough in truth as to every step, knowing well -how hard it is to climb and how easy to fall. Mr. Mildmay entered -the room leaning on Lord Plinlimmon's arm, and when he made his way -up among the armchairs upon the rug before the fire, the others -clustered around him with cheering looks and kindly questions. Then -came the Privy Seal, our old friend Lord Brentford, last,--and -I would say least, but that the words of no councillor could go -for less in such an assemblage than will those of Sir Marmaduke -Morecombe, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. - -Mr. Mildmay was soon seated in one of the armchairs, while Lord -Plinlimmon leaned against the table close at his elbow. Mr. Gresham -stood upright at the corner of the chimney-piece furthest from Mr. -Mildmay, and Mr. Palliser at that nearest to him. The Duke took the -armchair close at Mr. Mildmay's left hand. Lord Plinlimmon was, as I -have said, leaning against the table, but the Lord Chancellor, who -was next to him, sat upon it. Viscount Thrift and Mr. Monk occupied -chairs on the further side of the table, near to Mr. Mildmay's end, -and Mr. Legge Wilson placed himself at the head of the table, thus -joining them as it were into a body. The Home Secretary stood before -the Lord Chancellor screening him from the fire, and the Chancellor -of the Duchy, after waiting for a few minutes as though in doubt, -took one of the vacant armchairs. The young lord from the Colonies -stood a little behind the shoulders of his great friend from the -Foreign Office; and the Privy Seal, after moving about for a while -uneasily, took a chair behind the Chancellor of the Duchy. One -armchair was thus left vacant, but there was no other comer. - -"It is not so bad as I thought it would be," said the Duke, speaking -aloud, but nevertheless addressing himself specially to his chief. - -"It was bad enough," said Mr. Mildmay, laughing. - -"Bad enough indeed," said Sir Marmaduke Morecombe, without any -laughter. - -"And such a good bill lost," said Lord Plinlimmon. "The worst of -these failures is, that the same identical bill can never be brought -in again." - -"So that if the lost bill was best, the bill that will not be lost -can only be second best," said the Lord Chancellor. - -"I certainly did think that after the debate before Easter we should -not have come to shipwreck about the ballot," said Mr. Mildmay. - -"It was brewing for us all along," said Mr. Gresham, who then with a -gesture of his hand and a pressure of his lips withheld words which -he was nearly uttering, and which would not, probably, have been -complimentary to Mr. Turnbull. As it was, he turned half round and -said something to Lord Cantrip which was not audible to any one else -in the room. It was worthy of note, however, that Mr. Turnbull's name -was not once mentioned aloud at that meeting. - -"I am afraid it was brewing all along," said Sir Marmaduke Morecombe -gravely. - -"Well, gentlemen, we must take it as we get it," said Mr. Mildmay, -still smiling. "And now we must consider what we shall do at once." -Then he paused as though expecting that counsel would come to him -first from one colleague and then from another. But no such counsel -came, and probably Mr. Mildmay did not in the least expect that it -would come. - -"We cannot stay where we are, of course," said the Duke. The Duke was -privileged to say as much as that. But though every man in the room -knew that it must be so, no one but the Duke would have said it, -before Mr. Mildmay had spoken plainly himself. - -"No," said Mr. Mildmay; "I suppose that we can hardly stay where we -are. Probably none of us wish it, gentlemen." Then he looked round -upon his colleagues, and there came a sort of an assent, though there -were no spoken words. The sound from Sir Marmaduke Morecombe was -louder than that from the others;--but yet from him it was no more -than an attesting grunt. "We have two things to consider," continued -Mr. Mildmay,--and though he spoke in a very low voice, every word was -heard by all present,--"two things chiefly, that is; the work of the -country and the Queen's comfort. I propose to see her Majesty this -afternoon at five,--that is, in something less than two hours' time, -and I hope to be able to tell the House by seven what has taken place -between her Majesty and me. My friend, his Grace, will do as much in -the House of Lords. If you agree with me, gentlemen, I will explain -to the Queen that it is not for the welfare of the country that we -should retain our places, and I will place your resignations and my -own in her Majesty's hands." - -"You will advise her Majesty to send for Lord de Terrier," said Mr. -Gresham. - -"Certainly;--there will be no other course open to me." - -"Or to her," said Mr. Gresham. To this remark from the rising -Minister of the day, no word of reply was made; but of those present -in the room three or four of the most experienced servants of the -Crown felt that Mr. Gresham had been imprudent. The Duke, who had. -ever been afraid of Mr. Gresham, told Mr. Palliser afterwards that -such an observation should not have been made; and Sir Harry Coldfoot -pondered upon it uneasily, and Sir Marmaduke Morecombe asked Mr. -Mildmay what he thought about it. "Times change so much, and with the -times the feelings of men," said Mr. Mildmay. But I doubt whether Sir -Marmaduke quite understood him. - -There was silence in the room for a moment or two after Mr. Gresham -had spoken, and then Mr. Mildmay again addressed his friends. "Of -course it may be possible that my Lord de Terrier may foresee -difficulties, or may find difficulties which will oblige him, either -at once, or after an attempt has been made, to decline the task which -her Majesty will probably commit to him. All of us, no doubt, know -that the arrangement of a government is not the most easy task in -the world; and that it is not made the more easy by an absence of a -majority in the House of Commons." - -"He would dissolve, I presume," said the Duke. - -"I should say so," continued Mr. Mildmay. "But it may not improbably -come to pass that her Majesty will feel herself obliged to send again -for some one or two of us, that we may tender to her Majesty the -advice which we owe to her;--for me, for instance, or for my friend -the Duke. In such a matter she would be much guided probably by what -Lord de Terrier might have suggested to her. Should this be so, and -should I be consulted, my present feeling is that we should resume -our offices so that the necessary business of the session should be -completed, and that we should then dissolve Parliament, and thus -ascertain the opinion of the country. In such case, however, we -should of course meet again." - -"I quite think that the course proposed by Mr. Mildmay will be the -best," said the Duke, who had no doubt already discussed the matter -with his friend the Prime Minister in private. No one else said a -word either of argument or disagreement, and the Cabinet Council was -broken up. The old messenger, who had been asleep in his chair, stood -up and bowed as the Ministers walked by him, and then went in and -rearranged the chairs. - -"He has as much idea of giving up as you or I have," said Lord -Cantrip to his friend Mr. Gresham, as they walked arm-in-arm together -from the Treasury Chambers across St. James's Park towards the clubs. - -"I am not sure that he is not right," said Mr. Gresham. - -"Do you mean for himself or for the country?" asked Lord Cantrip. - -"For his future fame. They who have abdicated and have clung to their -abdication have always lost by it. Cincinnatus was brought back -again, and Charles V. is felt to have been foolish. The peaches of -retired ministers of which we hear so often have generally been -cultivated in a constrained seclusion;--or at least the world so -believes." They were talking probably of Mr. Mildmay, as to whom some -of his colleagues had thought it probable, knowing that he would now -resign, that he would have to-day declared his intention of laying -aside for ever the cares of office. - -Mr. Monk walked home alone, and as he went there was something of -a feeling of disappointment at heart, which made him ask himself -whether Mr. Turnbull might not have been right in rebuking him for -joining the Government. But this, I think, was in no way due to Mr. -Mildmay's resignation, but rather to a conviction on Mr. Monk's part -that that he had contributed but little to his country's welfare by -sitting in Mr. Mildmay's Cabinet. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -Mr. Kennedy's Luck - - -After the holding of that Cabinet Council of which the author has -dared to attempt a slight sketch in the last chapter, there were -various visits made to the Queen, first by Mr. Mildmay, and then by -Lord de Terrier, afterwards by Mr. Mildmay and the Duke together, and -then again by Lord de Terrier; and there were various explanations -made to Parliament in each House, and rivals were very courteous to -each other, promising assistance;--and at the end of it the old men -held their seats. The only change made was effected by the retirement -of Sir Marmaduke Morecombe, who was raised to the peerage, and by -the selection of--Mr. Kennedy to fill his place in the Cabinet. Mr. -Kennedy during the late debate had made one of those speeches, few -and far between, by which he had created for himself a Parliamentary -reputation; but, nevertheless, all men expressed their great -surprise, and no one could quite understand why Mr. Kennedy had been -made a Cabinet Minister. - -"It is impossible to say whether he is pleased or not," said Lady -Laura, speaking of him to Phineas. "I am pleased, of course." - -"His ambition must be gratified," said Phineas. - -"It would be, if he had any," said Lady Laura. - -"I do not believe in a man lacking ambition." - -"It is hard to say. There are men who by no means wear their hearts -upon their sleeves, and my husband is one of them. He told me that it -would be unbecoming in him to refuse, and that was all he said to me -about it." - -The old men held their seats, but they did so as it were only upon -further trial. Mr. Mildmay took the course which he had indicated to -his colleagues at the Cabinet meeting. Before all the explanations -and journeyings were completed, April was over, and the much-needed -Whitsuntide holidays were coming on. But little of the routine work -of the session had been done; and, as Mr. Mildmay told the House -more than once, the country would suffer were the Queen to dissolve -Parliament at this period of the year. The old Ministers would go on -with the business of the country, Lord de Terrier with his followers -having declined to take affairs into their hands; and at the close of -the session, which should be made as short as possible, writs should -be issued for new elections. This was Mr. Mildmay's programme, and it -was one of which no one dared to complain very loudly. - -Mr. Turnbull, indeed, did speak a word of caution. He told Mr. -Mildmay that he had lost his bill, good in other respects, because he -had refused to introduce the ballot into his measure. Let him promise -to be wiser for the future, and to obey the manifested wishes of the -country, and then all would be well with him. In answer to this, -Mr. Mildmay declared that to the best of his power of reading the -country, his countrymen had manifested no such wish; and that if they -did so, if by the fresh election it should be shown that the ballot -was in truth desired, he would at once leave the execution of their -wishes to abler and younger hands. Mr. Turnbull expressed himself -perfectly satisfied with the Minister's answers, and said that the -coming election would show whether he or Mr. Mildmay were right. - -Many men, and among them some of his colleagues, thought that Mr. -Mildmay had been imprudent. "No man ought ever to pledge himself -to anything," said Sir Harry Coldfoot to the Duke;--"that is, to -anything unnecessary." The Duke, who was very true to Mr. Mildmay, -made no reply to this, but even he thought that his old friend -had been betrayed into a promise too rapidly. But the pledge was -given, and some people already began to make much of it. There -appeared leader after leader in the _People's Banner_ urging the -constituencies to take advantage of the Prime Minister's words, and -to show clearly at the hustings that they desired the ballot. "You -had better come over to us, Mr. Finn; you had indeed," said Mr. -Slide. "Now's the time to do it, and show yourself a people's friend. -You'll have to do it sooner or later,--whether or no. Come to us and -we'll be your horgan." - -But in those days Phineas was something less in love with Mr. Quintus -Slide than he had been at the time of the great debate, for he was -becoming more and more closely connected with people who in their -ways of living and modes of expression were very unlike Mr. Slide. -This advice was given to him about the end of May, and at that -time Lord Chiltern was living with him in the lodgings in Great -Marlborough Street. Miss Pouncefoot had temporarily vacated her -rooms on the first floor, and the Lord with the broken bones had -condescended to occupy them. "I don't know that I like having a -Lord," Bunce had said to his wife. "It'll soon come to you not liking -anybody decent anywhere," Mrs. Bunce had replied; "but I shan't ask -any questions about it. When you're wasting so much time and money -at your dirty law proceedings, it's well that somebody should earn -something at home." - -There had been many discussions about the bringing of Lord Chiltern -up to London, in all of which Phineas had been concerned. Lord -Brentford had thought that his son had better remain down at the -Willingford Bull; and although he said that the rooms were at his -son's disposal should Lord Chiltern choose to come to London, still -he said it in such a way that Phineas, who went down to Willingford, -could not tell his friend that he would be made welcome in Portman -Square. "I think I shall leave those diggings altogether," Lord -Chiltern said to him. "My father annoys me by everything he says and -does, and I annoy him by saying and doing nothing." Then there came -an invitation to him from Lady Laura and Mr. Kennedy. Would he come -to Grosvenor Place? Lady Laura pressed this very much, though in -truth Mr. Kennedy had hardly done more than give a cold assent. But -Lord Chiltern would not hear of it. "There is some reason for my -going to my father's house," said he, "though he and I are not the -best friends in the world; but there can be no reason for my going -to the house of a man I dislike so much as I do Robert Kennedy." The -matter was settled in the manner told above. Miss Pouncefoot's rooms -were prepared for him at Mr. Bunce's house, and Phineas Finn went -down to Willingford and brought him up. "I've sold Bonebreaker," he -said,--"to a young fellow whose neck will certainly be the sacrifice -if he attempts to ride him. I'd have given him to you, Phineas, only -you wouldn't have known what to do with him." - -Lord Chiltern when he came up to London was still in bandages, -though, as the surgeon said, his bones seemed to have been made to be -broken and set again; and his bandages of course were a sufficient -excuse for his visiting the house neither of his father nor his -brother-in-law. But Lady Laura went to him frequently, and thus -became acquainted with our hero's home and with Mrs. Bunce. And there -were messages taken from Violet to the man in bandages, some of which -lost nothing in the carrying. Once Lady Laura tried to make Violet -think that it would be right, or rather not wrong, that they two -should go together to Lord Chiltern's rooms. - -"And would you have me tell my aunt, or would you have me not tell -her?" Violet asked. - -"I would have you do just as you pleased," Lady Laura answered. - -"So I shall," Violet replied, "but I will do nothing that I should be -ashamed to tell any one. Your brother professes to be in love with -me." - -"He is in love with you," said Lady Laura. "Even you do not pretend -to doubt his faith." - -"Very well. In those circumstances a girl should not go to a man's -rooms unless she means to consider herself as engaged to him, even -with his sister;--not though he had broken every bone in his skin. I -know what I may do, Laura, and I know what I mayn't; and I won't be -led either by you or by my aunt." - -"May I give him your love?" - -"No;--because you'll give it in a wrong spirit. He knows well enough -that I wish him well;--but you may tell him that from me, if you -please. He has from me all those wishes which one friend owes to -another." - -But there were other messages sent from Violet through Phineas Finn -which she worded with more show of affection,--perhaps as much for -the discomfort of Phineas as for the consolation of Lord Chiltern. -"Tell him to take care of himself," said Violet, "and bid him not to -have any more of those wild brutes that are not fit for any Christian -to ride. Tell him that I say so. It's a great thing to be brave; but -what's the use of being foolhardy?" - -The session was to be closed at the end of June, to the great dismay -of London tradesmen and of young ladies who had not been entirely -successful in the early season. But before the old Parliament was -closed, and the writs for the new election were despatched, there -occurred an incident which was of very much importance to Phineas -Finn. Near the end of June, when the remaining days of the session -were numbered by three or four, he had been dining at Lord -Brentford's house in Portman Square in company with Mr. Kennedy. But -Lady Laura had not been there. At this time he saw Lord Brentford not -unfrequently, and there was always a word said about Lord Chiltern. -The father would ask how the son occupied himself, and Phineas would -hope,--though hitherto he had hoped in vain,--that he would induce -the Earl to come and see Lord Chiltern. Lord Brentford could never be -brought to that; but it was sufficiently evident that he would have -done so, had he not been afraid to descend so far from the altitude -of his paternal wrath. On this evening, at about eleven, Mr. Kennedy -and Phineas left the house together, and walked from the Square -through Orchard Street into Oxford Street. Here their ways parted, -but Phineas crossed the road with Mr. Kennedy, as he was making some -reply to a second invitation to Loughlinter. Phineas, considering -what had been said before on the subject, thought that the invitation -came late, and that it was not warmly worded. He had, therefore, -declined it, and was in the act of declining it, when he crossed the -road with Mr. Kennedy. In walking down Orchard Street from the Square -he had seen two men standing in the shadow a few yards up a mews or -small alley that was there, but had thought nothing of them. It was -just that period of the year when there is hardly any of the darkness -of night; but at this moment there were symptoms of coming rain, and -heavy drops began to fall; and there were big clouds coming and going -before the young moon. Mr. Kennedy had said that he would get a cab, -but he had seen none as he crossed Oxford Street, and had put up his -umbrella as he made his way towards Park Street. Phineas as he left -him distinctly perceived the same two figures on the other side of -Oxford Street, and then turning into the shadow of a butcher's porch, -he saw them cross the street in the wake of Mr. Kennedy. It was now -raining in earnest, and the few passengers who were out were scudding -away quickly, this way and that. - -It hardly occurred to Phineas to think that any danger was imminent -to Mr. Kennedy from the men, but it did occur to him that he might as -well take some notice of the matter. Phineas knew that Mr. Kennedy -would make his way down Park Street, that being his usual route from -Portman Square towards his own home, and knew also that he himself -could again come across Mr. Kennedy's track by going down North -Audley Street to the corner of Grosvenor Square, and thence by Brook -Street into Park Street. Without much thought, therefore, he went -out of his own course down to the corner of the Square, hurrying his -steps till he was running, and then ran along Brook Street, thinking -as he went of some special word that he might say to Mr. Kennedy as -an excuse, should he again come across his late companion. He reached -the corner of Park Street before that gentleman could have been there -unless he also had run; but just in time to see him as he was coming -on,--and also to see in the dark glimmering of the slight uncertain -moonlight that the two men were behind him. He retreated a step -backwards in the corner, resolving that when Mr. Kennedy came up, -they two would go on together; for now it was clear that Mr. Kennedy -was followed. But Mr. Kennedy did not reach the corner. When he was -within two doors of it, one of the men had followed him up quickly, -and had thrown something round his throat from behind him. Phineas -understood well now that his friend was in the act of being -garrotted, and that his instant assistance was needed. He rushed -forward, and as the second ruffian had been close upon the footsteps -of the first, there was almost instantaneously a concourse of the -four men. But there was no fight. The man who had already nearly -succeeded in putting Mr. Kennedy on to his back, made no attempt to -seize his prey when he found that so unwelcome an addition had joined -the party, but instantly turned to fly. His companion was turning -also, but Phineas was too quick for him, and having seized on to his -collar, held to him with all his power. "Dash it all," said the man, -"didn't yer see as how I was a-hurrying up to help the gen'leman -myself?" Phineas, however, hadn't seen this, and held on gallantly, -and in a couple of minutes the first ruffian was back again upon the -spot in the custody of a policeman. "You've done it uncommon neat, -sir," said the policeman, complimenting Phineas upon his performance. -"If the gen'leman ain't none the worst for it, it'll have been a very -pretty evening's amusement." Mr. Kennedy was now leaning against the -railings, and hitherto had been unable to declare whether he was -really injured or not, and it was not till a second policeman came up -that the hero of the night was at liberty to attend closely to his -friend. - -Mr. Kennedy, when he was able to speak, declared that for a minute -or two he had thought that his neck had been broken; and he was not -quite convinced till he found himself in his own house, that nothing -more serious had really happened to him than certain bruises round -his throat. The policeman was for a while anxious that at any -rate Phineas should go with him to the police-office; but at last -consented to take the addresses of the two gentlemen. When he -found that Mr. Kennedy was a member of Parliament, and that he was -designated as Right Honourable, his respect for the garrotter became -more great, and he began to feel that the night was indeed a night -of great importance. He expressed unbounded admiration at Mr. Finn's -success in his own line, and made repeated promises that the men -should be forthcoming on the morrow. Could a cab be got? Of course a -cab could be got. A cab was got, and within a quarter of an hour of -the making of the attack, the two members of Parliament were on their -way to Grosvenor Place. - -There was hardly a word spoken in the cab, for Mr. Kennedy was in -pain. When, however, they reached the door in Grosvenor Place, -Phineas wanted to go, and leave his friend with the servants, but -this the Cabinet Minister would not allow. "Of course you must see -my wife," he said. So they went up-stairs into the drawing-room, -and then upon the stairs, by the lights of the house, Phineas could -perceive that his companion's face was bruised and black with dirt, -and that his cravat was gone. - -"I have been garrotted," said the Cabinet Minister to his wife. - -"What?" - -"Simply that;--or should have been, if he had not been there. How he -came there, God only knows." - -The wife's anxiety, and then her gratitude, need hardly be -described,--nor the astonishment of the husband, which by no means -decreased on reflection, at the opportune re-appearance in the nick -of time of the man whom three minutes before the attack he had left -in the act of going in the opposite direction. - -"I had seen the men, and thought it best to run round by the corner -of Grosvenor Square," said Phineas. - -"May God bless you," said Lady Laura. - -"Amen," said the Cabinet Minister. - -"I think he was born to be my friend," said Lady Laura. - -The Cabinet Minister said nothing more that night. He was never given -to much talking, and the little accident which had just occurred to -him did not tend to make words easy to him. But he pressed our hero's -hand, and Lady Laura said that of course Phineas would come to them -on the morrow. Phineas remarked that his first business must be to -go to the police-office, but he promised that he would come down to -Grosvenor Place immediately afterwards. Then Lady Laura also pressed -his hand, and looked--; she looked, I think, as though she thought -that Phineas would only have done right had he repeated the offence -which he had committed under the waterfall of Loughlinter. - -"Garrotted!" said Lord Chiltern, when Phineas told him the story -before they went to bed that night. He had been smoking, sipping -brandy-and-water, and waiting for Finn's return. "Robert Kennedy -garrotted!" - -"The fellow was in the act of doing it." - -"And you stopped him?" - -"Yes;--I got there just in time. Wasn't it lucky?" - -"You ought to be garrotted yourself. I should have lent the man a -hand had I been there." - -"How can you say anything so horrible? But you are drinking too much, -old fellow, and I shall lock the bottle up." - -"If there were no one in London drank more than I do, the wine -merchants would have a bad time of it. And so the new Cabinet -Minister has been garrotted in the street. Of course I'm sorry for -poor Laura's sake." - -"Luckily he's not much the worse for it;--only a little bruised." - -"I wonder whether it's on the cards he should be improved by -it;--worse, except in the way of being strangled, he could not be. -However, as he's my brother-in-law, I'm obliged to you for rescuing -him. Come, I'll go to bed. I must say, if he was to be garrotted I -should like to have been there to see it." That was the manner in -which Lord Chiltern received the tidings of the terrible accident -which had occurred to his near relative. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -Finn for Loughton - - -By three o'clock in the day after the little accident which was told -in the last chapter, all the world knew that Mr. Kennedy, the new -Cabinet Minister, had been garrotted, or half garrotted, and that -that child of fortune, Phineas Finn, had dropped upon the scene out -of heaven at the exact moment of time, had taken the two garrotters -prisoners, and saved the Cabinet Minister's neck and valuables,--if -not his life. "Bedad," said Laurence Fitzgibbon, when he came to hear -this, "that fellow'll marry an heiress, and be Secretary for Oireland -yet." A good deal was said about it to Phineas at the clubs, but a -word or two that was said to him by Violet Effingham was worth all -the rest. "Why, what a Paladin you are! But you succour men in -distress instead of maidens." "That's my bad luck," said Phineas. -"The other will come no doubt in time," Violet replied; "and then -you'll get your reward." He knew that such words from a girl mean -nothing,--especially from such a girl as Violet Effingham; but -nevertheless they were very pleasant to him. - -"Of course you will come to us at Loughlinter when Parliament is up?" -Lady Laura said the same day. - -"I don't know really. You see I must go over to Ireland about my -re-election." - -"What has that to do with it? You are only making out excuses. We -go down on the first of July, and the English elections won't begin -till the middle of the month. It will be August before the men of -Loughshane are ready for you." - -"To tell you the truth, Lady Laura," said Phineas, "I doubt whether -the men of Loughshane,--or rather the man of Loughshane, will have -anything more to say to me." - -"What man do you mean?" - -"Lord Tulla. He was in a passion with his brother before, and I got -the advantage of it. Since that he has paid his brother's debts for -the fifteenth time, and of course is ready to fight any battle for -the forgiven prodigal. Things are not as they were, and my father -tells me that he thinks I shall be beaten." - -"That is bad news." - -"It is what I have a right to expect." - -Every word of information that had come to Phineas about Loughshane -since Mr. Mildmay had decided upon a dissolution, had gone towards -making him feel at first that there was a great doubt as to his -re-election, and at last that there was almost a certainty against -him. And as these tidings reached him they made him very unhappy. -Since he had been in Parliament he had very frequently regretted -that he had left the shades of the Inns of Court for the glare of -Westminster; and he had more than once made up his mind that he would -desert the glare and return to the shade. But now, when the moment -came in which such desertion seemed to be compulsory on him, when -there would be no longer a choice, the seat in Parliament was dearer -to him than ever. If he had gone of his own free will,--so he told -himself,--there would have been something of nobility in such going. -Mr. Low would have respected him, and even Mrs. Low might have taken -him back to the friendship of her severe bosom. But he would go back -now as a cur with his tail between his legs,--kicked out, as it were, -from Parliament. Returning to Lincoln's Inn soiled with failure, -having accomplished nothing, having broken down on the only occasion -on which he had dared to show himself on his legs, not having opened -a single useful book during the two years in which he had sat in -Parliament, burdened with Laurence Fitzgibbon's debt, and not quite -free from debt of his own, how could he start himself in any way by -which he might even hope to win success? He must, he told himself, -give up all thought of practising in London and betake himself to -Dublin. He could not dare to face his friends in London as a young -briefless barrister. - -On this evening, the evening subsequent to that on which Mr. Kennedy -had been attacked, the House was sitting in Committee of Ways and -Means, and there came on a discussion as to a certain vote for the -army. It had been known that there would be such discussion; and Mr. -Monk having heard from Phineas a word or two now and again about the -potted peas, had recommended him to be ready with a few remarks if he -wished to support the Government in the matter of that vote. Phineas -did so wish, having learned quite enough in the Committee Room -up-stairs to make him believe that a large importation of the -potted peas from Holstein would not be for the advantage of the -army or navy,--or for that of the country at large. Mr. Monk had -made his suggestion without the slightest allusion to the former -failure,--just as though Phineas were a practised speaker accustomed -to be on his legs three or four times a week. "If I find a chance, I -will," said Phineas, taking the advice just as it was given. - -Soon after prayers, a word was said in the House as to the -ill-fortune which had befallen the new Cabinet Minister. Mr. Daubeny -had asked Mr. Mildmay whether violent hands had not been laid in the -dead of night on the sacred throat,--the throat that should have been -sacred,--of the new Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster; and had -expressed regret that the Ministry,--which was, he feared, in other -respects somewhat infirm,--should now have been further weakened by -this injury to that new bulwark with which it had endeavoured to -support itself. The Prime Minister, answering his old rival in the -same strain, said that the calamity might have been very severe, -both to the country and to the Cabinet; but that fortunately for the -community at large, a gallant young member of that House,--and he was -proud to say a supporter of the Government,--had appeared upon the -spot at the nick of time;--"As a god out of a machine," said Mr. -Daubeny, interrupting him;--"By no means as a god out of a machine," -continued Mr. Mildmay, "but as a real help in a very real trouble, -and succeeded not only in saving my right honourable friend, the -Chancellor of the Duchy, but in arresting the two malefactors who -attempted to rob him in the street." Then there was a cry of "name;" -and Mr. Mildmay of course named the member for Loughshane. It so -happened that Phineas was not in the House, but he heard it all when -he came down to attend the Committee of Ways and Means. - -Then came on the discussion about provisions in the army, the subject -being mooted by one of Mr. Turnbull's close allies. The gentleman -on the other side of the House who had moved for the Potted Peas -Committee, was silent on the occasion, having felt that the result -of that committee had not been exactly what he had expected. The -evidence respecting such of the Holstein potted peas as had been used -in this country was not very favourable to them. But, nevertheless, -the rebound from that committee,--the very fact that such a committee -had been made to sit,--gave ground for a hostile attack. To attack -is so easy, when a complete refutation barely suffices to save the -Minister attacked,--does not suffice to save him from future dim -memories of something having been wrong,--and brings down no disgrace -whatsoever on the promoter of the false charge. The promoter of the -false charge simply expresses his gratification at finding that he -had been misled by erroneous information. It is not customary for him -to express gratification at the fact, that out of all the mud which -he has thrown, some will probably stick! Phineas, when the time came, -did get on his legs, and spoke perhaps two or three dozen words. The -doing so seemed to come to him quite naturally. He had thought very -little about it beforehand,--having resolved not to think of it. And -indeed the occasion was one of no great importance. The Speaker was -not in the chair, and the House was thin, and he intended to make no -speech,--merely to say something which he had to say. Till he had -finished he hardly remembered that he was doing that, in attempting -to do which he had before failed so egregiously. It was not till he -sat down that he began to ask himself whether the scene was swimming -before his eyes as it had done on former occasions; as it had done -even when he had so much as thought of making a speech. Now he was -astonished at the easiness of the thing, and as he left the House -told himself that he had overcome the difficulty just when the -victory could be of no avail to him. Had he been more eager, more -constant in his purpose, he might at any rate have shown the world -that he was fit for the place which he had presumed to take before -he was cast out of it. - -On the next morning he received a letter from his father. Dr. Finn -had seen Lord Tulla, having been sent for to relieve his lordship in -a fit of the gout, and had been informed by the Earl that he meant to -fight the borough to the last man;--had he said to the last shilling -he would have spoken with perhaps more accuracy. "You see, doctor, -your son has had it for two years, as you may say for nothing, and I -think he ought to give way. He can't expect that he's to go on there -as though it were his own." And then his lordship, upon whom this -touch of the gout had come somewhat sharply, expressed himself with -considerable animation. The old doctor behaved with much spirit. "I -told the Earl," he said, "that I could not undertake to say what you -might do; but that as you had come forward at first with my sanction, -I could not withdraw it now. He asked me if I should support you with -money; I said that I should to a moderate extent. 'By G----,' said -the Earl, 'a moderate extent will go a very little way, I can tell -you.' Since that he has had Duggin with him; so, I suppose, I shall -not see him any more. You can do as you please now; but, from what I -hear, I fear you will have no chance." Then with much bitterness of -spirit Phineas resolved that he would not interfere with Lord Tulla -at Loughshane. He would go at once to the Reform Club and explain his -reasons to Barrington Erle and others there who would be interested. - -But he first went to Grosvenor Place. Here he was shown up into Mr. -Kennedy's room. Mr. Kennedy was up and seated in an arm-chair by an -open window looking over into the Queen's garden; but he was in his -dressing-gown, and was to be regarded as an invalid. And indeed as he -could not turn his neck, or thought that he could not do so, he was -not very fit to go out about his work. Let us hope that the affairs -of the Duchy of Lancaster did not suffer materially by his absence. -We may take it for granted that with a man so sedulous as to all his -duties there was no arrear of work when the accident took place. He -put out his hand to Phineas, and said some word in a whisper,--some -word or two among which Phineas caught the sound of "potted -peas,"--and then continued to look out of the window. There are men -who are utterly prostrated by any bodily ailment, and it seemed that -Mr. Kennedy was one of them. Phineas, who was full of his own bad -news, had intended to tell his sad story at once. But he perceived -that the neck of the Chancellor of the Duchy was too stiff to allow -of his taking any interest in external matters, and so he refrained. -"What does the doctor say about it?" said Phineas, perceiving that -just for the present there could be only one possible subject for -remark. Mr. Kennedy was beginning to describe in a long whisper what -the doctor did think about it, when Lady Laura came into the room. - -Of course they began at first to talk about Mr. Kennedy. It would not -have been kind to him not to have done so. And Lady Laura made much -of the injury, as it behoves a wife to do in such circumstances for -the sake both of the sufferer and of the hero. She declared her -conviction that had Phineas been a moment later her husband's neck -would have been irredeemably broken. - -"I don't think they ever do kill the people," said Phineas. "At any -rate they don't mean to do so." - -"I thought they did," said Lady Laura. - -"I fancy not," said Phineas, eager in the cause of truth. - -"I think this man was very clumsy," whispered Mr. Kennedy. - -"Perhaps he was a beginner," said Phineas, "and that may make a -difference. If so, I'm afraid we have interfered with his -education." - -Then, by degrees, the conversation got away to other things, and Lady -Laura asked him after Loughshane. "I've made up my mind to give it -up," said he, smiling as he spoke. - -"I was afraid there was but a bad chance," said Lady Laura, smiling -also. - -"My father has behaved so well!" said Phineas. "He has written to say -he'll find the money, if I determine to contest the borough. I mean -to write to him by to-night's post to decline the offer. I have no -right to spend the money, and I shouldn't succeed if I did spend it. -Of course it makes me a little down in the mouth." And then he smiled -again. - -"I've got a plan of my own," said Lady Laura. - -"What plan?" - -"Or rather it isn't mine, but papa's. Old Mr. Standish is going to -give up Loughton, and papa wants you to come and try your luck -there." - -"Lady Laura!" - -"It isn't quite a certainty, you know, but I suppose it's as near a -certainty as anything left." And this came from a strong Radical -Reformer! - -"Lady Laura, I couldn't accept such a favour from your father." Then -Mr. Kennedy nodded his head very slightly and whispered, "Yes, yes." -"I couldn't think of it," said Phineas Finn. "I have no right to such -a favour." - -"That is a matter entirely for papa's consideration," said Lady -Laura, with an affectation of solemnity in her voice. "I think it has -always been felt that any politician may accept such an offer as that -when it is made to him, but that no politician should ask for it. My -father feels that he has to do the best he can with his influence in -the borough, and therefore he comes to you." - -"It isn't that," said Phineas, somewhat rudely. - -"Of course private feelings have their weight," said Lady Laura. "It -is not probable that papa would have gone to a perfect stranger. And -perhaps, Mr. Finn, I may own that Mr. Kennedy and I would both be -very sorry that you should not be in the House, and that that feeling -on our part has had some weight with my father." - -"Of course you'll stand?" whispered Mr. Kennedy, still looking -straight out of the window, as though the slightest attempt to turn -his neck would be fraught with danger to himself and the Duchy. - -"Papa has desired me to ask you to call upon him," said Lady Laura. -"I don't suppose there is very much to be said, as each of you know -so well the other's way of thinking. But you had better see him -to-day or to-morrow." - -Of course Phineas was persuaded before he left Mr. Kennedy's room. -Indeed, when he came to think of it, there appeared to him to be no -valid reason why he should not sit for Loughton. The favour was of -a kind that had prevailed from time out of mind in England, between -the most respectable of the great land magnates, and young rising -liberal politicians. Burke, Fox, and Canning had all been placed in -Parliament by similar influence. Of course he, Phineas Finn, desired -earnestly,--longed in his very heart of hearts,--to extinguish all -such Parliamentary influence, to root out for ever the last vestige -of close borough nominations; but while the thing remained it was -better that the thing should contribute to the liberal than to the -conservative strength of the House,--and if to the liberal, how was -this to be achieved but by the acceptance of such influence by some -liberal candidate? And if it were right that it should be accepted -by any liberal candidate,--then, why not by him? The logic of this -argument seemed to him to be perfect. He felt something like a -sting of reproach as he told himself that in truth this great offer -was made to him, not on account of the excellence of his politics, -but because he had been instrumental in saving Lord Brentford's -son-in-law from the violence of garrotters. But he crushed these -qualms of conscience as being over-scrupulous, and, as he told -himself, not practical. You must take the world as you find it, -with a struggle to be something more honest than those around you. -Phineas, as he preached to himself this sermon, declared to himself -that they who attempted more than this flew too high in the clouds -to be of service to men and women upon earth. - -As he did not see Lord Brentford that day he postponed writing to his -father for twenty-four hours. On the following morning he found the -Earl at home in Portman Square, having first discussed the matter -fully with Lord Chiltern. "Do not scruple about me," said Lord -Chiltern; "you are quite welcome to the borough for me." - -"But if I did not stand, would you do so? There are so many reasons -which ought to induce you to accept a seat in Parliament!" - -"Whether that be true or not, Phineas, I shall not accept my father's -interest at Loughton, unless it be offered to me in a way in which -it never will be offered. You know me well enough to be sure that I -shall not change my mind. Nor will he. And, therefore, you may go -down to Loughton with a pure conscience as far as I am concerned." - -Phineas had his interview with the Earl, and in ten minutes -everything was settled. On his way to Portman Square there had come -across his mind the idea of a grand effort of friendship. What if he -could persuade the father so to conduct himself towards his son, that -the son should consent to be a member for the borough? And he did -say a word or two to this effect, setting forth that Lord Chiltern -would condescend to become a legislator, if only his father would -condescend to acknowledge his son's fitness for such work without -any comments on the son's past life. But the Earl simply waived the -subject away with his hand. He could be as obstinate as his son. Lady -Laura had been the Mercury between them on this subject, and Lady -Laura had failed. He would not now consent to employ another Mercury. -Very little,--hardly a word indeed,--was said between the Earl and -Phineas about politics. Phineas was to be the Saulsby candidate at -Loughton for the next election, and was to come to Saulsby with the -Kennedys from Loughlinter,--either with the Kennedys or somewhat in -advance of them. "I do not say that there will be no opposition," -said the Earl, "but I expect none." He was very courteous,--nay, -he was kind, feeling doubtless that his family owed a great debt -of gratitude to the young man with whom he was conversing; but, -nevertheless, there was not absent on his part a touch of that high -condescension which, perhaps, might be thought to become the Earl, -the Cabinet Minister, and the great borough patron. Phineas, who -was sensitive, felt this and winced. He had never quite liked Lord -Brentford, and could not bring himself to do so now in spite of the -kindness which the Earl was showing him. - -But he was very happy when he sat down to write to his father -from the club. His father had told him that the money should be -forthcoming for the election at Loughshane, if he resolved to stand, -but that the chance of success would be very slight,--indeed that, in -his opinion, there would be no chance of success. Nevertheless, his -father had evidently believed, when writing, that Phineas would not -abandon his seat without a useless and expensive contest. He now -thanked his father with many expressions of gratitude,--declared his -conviction that his father was right about Lord Tulla, and then, -in the most modest language that he could use, went on to say that -he had found another borough open to him in England. He was going -to stand for Loughton, with the assistance of Lord Brentford, and -thought that the election would probably not cost him above a couple -of hundred pounds at the outside. Then he wrote a very pretty note -to Lord Tulla, thanking him for his former kindness, and telling -the Irish Earl that it was not his intention to interfere with the -borough of Loughshane at the next election. - -A few days after this Phineas was very much surprised at a visit -that was made to him at his lodgings. Mr. Clarkson, after that -scene in the lobby of the House, called again in Great Marlborough -Street,--and was admitted. "You had better let him sit in your -armchair for half an hour or so," Fitzgibbon had said; and Phineas -almost believed that it would be better. The man was a terrible -nuisance to him, and he was beginning to think that he had better -undertake to pay the debt by degrees. It was, he knew, quite on the -cards that Mr. Clarkson should have him arrested while at Saulsby. -Since that scene in the lobby Mr. Clarkson had been with him twice, -and there had been a preliminary conversation as to real payment. -Mr. Clarkson wanted a hundred pounds down, and another bill for two -hundred and twenty at three months' date. "Think of my time and -trouble in coming here," Mr. Clarkson had urged when Phineas had -objected to these terms. "Think of my time and trouble, and do be -punctual, Mr. Finn." Phineas had offered him ten pounds a quarter, -the payments to be marked on the back of the bill, a tender which Mr. -Clarkson had not seemed to regard as strong evidence of punctuality. -He had not been angry, but had simply expressed his intention of -calling again,--giving Phineas to understand that business would -probably take him to the west of Ireland in the autumn. If only -business might not take him down either to Loughlinter or to Saulsby! -But the strange visitor who came to Phineas in the midst of these -troubles put an end to them all. - -The strange visitor was Miss Aspasia Fitzgibbon. "You'll be very much -surprised at my coming to your chambers, no doubt," she said, as she -sat down in the chair which Phineas placed for her. Phineas could -only say that he was very proud to be so highly honoured, and that he -hoped she was well. "Pretty well, I thank you. I have just come about -a little business, Mr. Finn, and I hope you'll excuse me." - -"I'm quite sure that there is no need for excuses," said Phineas. - -"Laurence, when he hears about it, will say that I've been an -impertinent old fool; but I never care what Laurence says, either -this way or that. I've been to that Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Finn, and I've -paid him the money." - -"No!" said Phineas. - -"But I have, Mr. Finn. I happened to hear what occurred that night at -the door of the House of Commons." - -"Who told you, Miss Fitzgibbon?" - -"Never mind who told me. I heard it. I knew before that you had been -foolish enough to help Laurence about money, and so I put two and two -together. It isn't the first time I have had to do with Mr. Clarkson. -So I sent to him, and I've bought the bill. There it is." And Miss -Fitzgibbon produced the document which bore the name of Phineas Finn -across the front of it. - -"And did you pay him two hundred and fifty pounds for it?" - -"Not quite. I had a very hard tussle, and got it at last for two -hundred and twenty pounds." - -"And did you do it yourself?" - -"All myself. If I had employed a lawyer I should have had to pay -two hundred and forty pounds and five pounds for costs. And now, -Mr. Finn, I hope you won't have any more money engagements with my -brother Laurence." Phineas said that he thought he might promise that -he would have no more. "Because, if you do, I shan't interfere. If -Laurence began to find that he could get money out of me in that way, -there would be no end to it. Mr. Clarkson would very soon be spending -his spare time in my drawing-room. Good-bye, Mr. Finn. If Laurence -says anything, just tell him that he'd better come to me." Then -Phineas was left looking at the bill. It was certainly a great relief -to him,--that he should be thus secured from the domiciliary visits -of Mr. Clarkson; a great relief to him to be assured that Mr. -Clarkson would not find him out down at Loughton; but nevertheless, -he had to suffer a pang of shame as he felt that Miss Fitzgibbon had -become acquainted with his poverty and had found herself obliged to -satisfy his pecuniary liabilities. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -Lady Laura Kennedy's Headache - - -Phineas went down to Loughlinter early in July, taking Loughton in -his way. He stayed there one night at the inn, and was introduced to -sundry influential inhabitants of the borough by Mr. Grating, the -ironmonger, who was known by those who knew Loughton to be a very -strong supporter of the Earl's interest. Mr. Grating and about half a -dozen others of the tradesmen of the town came to the inn, and met -Phineas in the parlour. He told them he was a good sound Liberal and -a supporter of Mr. Mildmay's Government, of which their neighbour the -Earl was so conspicuous an ornament. This was almost all that was -said about the Earl out loud; but each individual man of Loughton -then present took an opportunity during the meeting of whispering -into Mr. Finn's ear a word or two to show that he also was admitted -to the secret councils of the borough,--that he too could see the -inside of the arrangement. "Of course we must support the Earl," one -said. "Never mind what you hear about a Tory candidate, Mr. Finn," -whispered a second; "the Earl can do what he pleases here." And it -seemed to Phineas that it was thought by them all to be rather a fine -thing to be thus held in the hand by an English nobleman. Phineas -could not but reflect much upon this as he lay in his bed at the -Loughton inn. The great political question on which the political -world was engrossed up in London was the enfranchisement of -Englishmen,--of Englishmen down to the rank of artisans and -labourers;--and yet when he found himself in contact with individual -Englishmen, with men even very much above the artisan and the -labourer, he found that they rather liked being bound hand and foot, -and being kept as tools in the political pocket of a rich man. -Every one of those Loughton tradesmen was proud of his own personal -subjection to the Earl! - -From Loughton he went to Loughlinter, having promised to be back in -the borough for the election. Mr. Grating would propose him, and he -was to be seconded by Mr. Shortribs, the butcher and grazier. Mention -had been made of a Conservative candidate, and Mr. Shortribs had -seemed to think that a good stand-up fight upon English principles, -with a clear understanding, of course, that victory should prevail -on the liberal side, would be a good thing for the borough. But the -Earl's man of business saw Phineas on the morning of his departure, -and told him not to regard Mr. Shortribs. "They'd all like it," said -the man of business; "and I daresay they'll have enough of it when -this Reform Bill is passed; but at present no one will be fool enough -to come and spend his money here. We have them all in hand too well -for that, Mr. Finn!" - -He found the great house at Loughlinter nearly empty. Mr. Kennedy's -mother was there, and Lord Brentford was there, and Lord Brentford's -private secretary, and Mr. Kennedy's private secretary. At present -that was the entire party. Lady Baldock was expected there, with -her daughter and Violet Effingham; but, as well as Phineas could -learn, they would not be at Loughlinter until after he had left it. -There had come up lately a rumour that there would be an autumn -session,--that the Houses would sit through October and a part of -November, in order that Mr. Mildmay might try the feeling of the new -Parliament. If this were to be so, Phineas had resolved that, in the -event of his election at Loughton, he would not return to Ireland -till after this autumn session should be over. He gave an account to -the Earl, in the presence of the Earl's son-in-law, of what had taken -place at Loughton, and the Earl expressed himself as satisfied. It -was manifestly a great satisfaction to Lord Brentford that he should -still have a borough in his pocket, and the more so because there -were so very few noblemen left who had such property belonging to -them. He was very careful in his speech, never saying in so many -words that the privilege of returning a member was his own; but his -meaning was not the less clear. - -Those were dreary days at Loughlinter. There was fishing,--if Phineas -chose to fish; and he was told that he could shoot a deer if he was -minded to go out alone. But it seemed as though it were the intention -of the host that his guests should spend their time profitably. Mr. -Kennedy himself was shut up with books and papers all the morning, -and always took up a book after dinner. The Earl also would read a -little,--and then would sleep a good deal. Old Mrs. Kennedy slept -also, and Lady Laura looked as though she would like to sleep if -it were not that her husband's eye was upon her. As it was, she -administered tea, Mr. Kennedy not liking the practice of having it -handed round by a servant when none were there but members of the -family circle, and she read novels. Phineas got hold of a stiff bit -of reading for himself, and tried to utilise his time. He took Alison -in hand, and worked his way gallantly through a couple of volumes. -But even he, more than once or twice, found himself on the very verge -of slumber. Then he would wake up and try to think about things. Why -was he, Phineas Finn, an Irishman from Killaloe, living in that great -house of Loughlinter as though he were one of the family, striving to -kill the hours, and feeling that he was in some way subject to the -dominion of his host? Would it not be better for him to get up and go -away? In his heart of hearts he did not like Mr. Kennedy, though he -believed him to be a good man. And of what service to him was it to -like Lady Laura, now that Lady Laura was a possession in the hands of -Mr. Kennedy? Then he would tell himself that he owed his position in -the world entirely to Lady Laura, and that he was ungrateful to feel -himself ever dull in her society. And, moreover, there was something -to be done in the world beyond making love and being merry. Mr. -Kennedy could occupy himself with a blue book for hours together -without wincing. So Phineas went to work again with his Alison, and -read away till he nodded. - -In those days he often wandered up and down the Linter and across the -moor to the Linn, and so down to the lake. He would take a book with -him, and would seat himself down on spots which he loved, and would -pretend to read;--but I do not think that he got much advantage -from his book. He was thinking of his life, and trying to calculate -whether the wonderful success which he had achieved would ever be of -permanent value to him. Would he be nearer to earning his bread when -he should be member for Loughton than he had been when he was member -for Loughshane? Or was there before him any slightest probability -that he would ever earn his bread? And then he thought of Violet -Effingham, and was angry with himself for remembering at that moment -that Violet Effingham was the mistress of a large fortune. - -Once before when he was sitting beside the Linter he had made up his -mind to declare his passion to Lady Laura;--and he had done so on the -very spot. Now, within a twelvemonth of that time, he made up his -mind on the same spot to declare his passion to Miss Effingham, and -he thought his best mode of carrying his suit would be to secure the -assistance of Lady Laura. Lady Laura, no doubt, had been very anxious -that her brother should marry Violet; but Lord Chiltern, as Phineas -knew, had asked for Violet's hand twice in vain; and, moreover, -Chiltern himself had declared to Phineas that he would never ask -for it again. Lady Laura, who was always reasonable, would surely -perceive that there was no hope of success for her brother. That -Chiltern would quarrel with him,--would quarrel with him to the -knife,--he did not doubt; but he felt that no fear of such a quarrel -as that should deter him. He loved Violet Effingham, and he must -indeed be pusillanimous if, loving her as he did, he was deterred -from expressing his love from any fear of a suitor whom she did not -favour. He would not willingly be untrue to his friendship for Lady -Laura's brother. Had there been a chance for Lord Chiltern he would -have abstained from putting himself forward. But what was the use -of his abstaining, when by doing so he could in no wise benefit -his friend,--when the result of his doing so would be that some -interloper would come in and carry off the prize? He would explain -all this to Lady Laura, and, if the prize would be kind to him, he -would disregard the anger of Lord Chiltern, even though it might be -anger to the knife. - -As he was thinking of all this Lady Laura stood before him where he -was sitting at the top of the falls. At this moment he remembered -well all the circumstances of the scene when he had been there with -her at his last visit to Loughlinter. How things had changed since -then! Then he had loved Lady Laura with all his heart, and he had now -already brought himself to regard her as a discreet matron whom to -love would be almost as unreasonable as though he were to entertain -a passion for the Lord Chancellor. The reader will understand how -thorough had been the cure effected by Lady Laura's marriage and the -interval of a few months, when the swain was already prepared to make -this lady the depositary of his confidence in another matter of love. -"You are often here, I suppose?" said Lady Laura, looking down upon -him as he sat upon the rock. - -"Well;--yes; not very often; I come here sometimes because the view -down upon the lake is so fine." - -"It is the prettiest spot about the place. I hardly ever get here -now. Indeed this is only the second time that I have been up since -we have been at home, and then I came to bring papa here." There was -a little wooden seat near to the rock upon which Phineas had been -lying, and upon this Lady Laura sat down. Phineas, with his eyes -turned upon the lake, was considering how he might introduce the -subject of his love for Violet Effingham; but he did not find the -matter very easy. He had just resolved to begin by saying that Violet -would certainly never accept Lord Chiltern, when Lady Laura spoke a -word or two which stopped him altogether. "How well I remember," she -said, "the day when you and I were here last autumn!" - -"So do I. You told me then that you were going to marry Mr. Kennedy. -How much has happened since then!" - -"Much indeed! Enough for a whole lifetime. And yet how slow the time -has gone!" - -"I do not think it has been slow with me," said Phineas. - -"No; you have been active. You have had your hands full of work. I -am beginning to think that it is a great curse to have been born a -woman." - -"And yet I have heard you say that a woman may do as much as a man." - -"That was before I had learned my lesson properly. I know better than -that now. Oh dear! I have no doubt it is all for the best as it is, -but I have a kind of wish that I might be allowed to go out and milk -the cows." - -"And may you not milk the cows if you wish it, Lady Laura?" - -"By no means;--not only not milk them, but hardly look at them. At -any rate, I must not talk about them." Phineas of course understood -that she was complaining of her husband, and hardly knew how to reply -to her. He had been sharp enough to perceive already that Mr. Kennedy -was an autocrat in his own house, and he knew Lady Laura well enough -to be sure that such masterdom would be very irksome to her. But he -had not imagined that she would complain to him. "It was so different -at Saulsby," Lady Laura continued. "Everything there seemed to be my -own." - -"And everything here is your own." - -"Yes,--according to the prayer-book. And everything in truth is my -own,--as all the dainties at the banquet belonged to Sancho the -Governor." - -"You mean," said he,--and then he hesitated; "you mean that Mr. -Kennedy stands over you, guarding you for your own welfare, as the -doctor stood over Sancho and guarded him?" - -There was a pause before she answered,--a long pause, during which he -was looking away over the lake, and thinking how he might introduce -the subject of his love. But long as was the pause, he had not begun -when Lady Laura was again speaking. "The truth is, my friend," she -said, "that I have made a mistake." - -"A mistake?" - -"Yes, Phineas, a mistake. I have blundered as fools blunder, thinking -that I was clever enough to pick my footsteps aright without asking -counsel from any one. I have blundered and stumbled and fallen, and -now I am so bruised that I am not able to stand upon my feet." The -word that struck him most in all this was his own Christian name. She -had never called him Phineas before. He was aware that the circle -of his acquaintance had fallen into a way of miscalling him by his -Christian name, as one observes to be done now and again in reference -to some special young man. Most of the men whom he called his friends -called him Phineas. Even the Earl had done so more than once on -occasions in which the greatness of his position had dropped for a -moment out of his mind. Mrs. Low had called him Phineas when she -regarded him as her husband's most cherished pupil; and Mrs. Bunce -had called him Mr. Phineas. He had always been Phineas to everybody -at Killaloe. But still he was quite sure that Lady Laura had never so -called him before. Nor would she have done so now in her husband's -presence. He was sure of that also. - -"You mean that you are unhappy?" he said, still looking away from her -towards the lake. - -"Yes, I do mean that. Though I do not know why I should come and tell -you so,--except that I am still blundering and stumbling, and have -fallen into a way of hurting myself at every step." - -"You can tell no one who is more anxious for your happiness," said -Phineas. - -"That is a very pretty speech, but what would you do for my -happiness? Indeed, what is it possible that you should do? I mean it -as no rebuke when I say that my happiness or unhappiness is a matter -as to which you will soon become perfectly indifferent." - -"Why should you say so, Lady Laura?" - -"Because it is natural that it should be so. You and Mr. Kennedy -might have been friends. Not that you will be, because you are unlike -each other in all your ways. But it might have been so." - -"And are not you and I to be friends?" he asked. - -"No. In a very few months you will not think of telling me what are -your desires or what your sorrows;--and as for me, it will be out -of the question that I should tell mine to you. How can you be my -friend?" - -"If you were not quite sure of my friendship, Lady Laura, you would -not speak to me as you are speaking now." Still he did not look at -her, but lay with his face supported on his hands, and his eyes -turned away upon the lake. But she, where she was sitting, could see -him, and was aided by her sight in making comparisons in her mind -between the two men who had been her lovers,--between him whom she -had taken and him whom she had left. There was something in the hard, -dry, unsympathising, unchanging virtues of her husband which almost -revolted her. He had not a fault, but she had tried him at every -point and had been able to strike no spark of fire from him. Even by -disobeying she could produce no heat,--only an access of firmness. -How would it have been with her had she thrown all ideas of fortune -to the winds, and linked her lot to that of the young Phoebus who -was lying at her feet? If she had ever loved any one she had loved -him. And she had not thrown away her love for money. So she swore to -herself over and over again, trying to console herself in her cold -unhappiness. She had married a rich man in order that she might be -able to do something in the world;--and now that she was this rich -man's wife she found that she could do nothing. The rich man thought -it to be quite enough for her to sit at home and look after his -welfare. In the meantime young Phoebus,--her Phoebus as he had -been once,--was thinking altogether of some one else. - -"Phineas," she said, slowly, "I have in you such perfect confidence -that I will tell you the truth;--as one man may tell it to another. I -wish you would go from here." - -"What, at once?" - -"Not to-day, or to-morrow. Stay here now till the election; but do -not return. He will ask you to come, and press you hard, and will be -hurt;--for, strange to say, with all his coldness, he really likes -you. He has a pleasure in seeing you here. But he must not have that -pleasure at the expense of trouble to me." - -"And why is it a trouble to you?" he asked. Men are such fools;--so -awkward, so unready, with their wits ever behind the occasion by a -dozen seconds or so! As soon as the words were uttered, he knew that -they should not have been spoken. - -"Because I am a fool," she said. "Why else? Is not that enough for -you?" - -"Laura--," he said. - -"No,--no; I will have none of that. I am a fool, but not such a fool -as to suppose that any cure is to be found there." - -"Only say what I can do for you, though it be with my entire life, -and I will do it." - -"You can do nothing,--except to keep away from me." - -"Are you earnest in telling me that?" Now at last he had turned -himself round and was looking at her, and as he looked he saw the hat -of a man appearing up the path, and immediately afterwards the face. -It was the hat and face of the laird of Loughlinter. "Here is Mr. -Kennedy," said Phineas, in a tone of voice not devoid of dismay and -trouble. - -"So I perceive," said Lady Laura. But there was no dismay or trouble -in the tone of her voice. - -In the countenance of Mr. Kennedy, as he approached closer, there was -not much to be read,--only, perhaps, some slight addition of gloom, -or rather, perhaps, of that frigid propriety of moral demeanour for -which he had always been conspicuous, which had grown upon him at his -marriage, and which had been greatly increased by the double action -of being made a Cabinet Minister and being garrotted. "I am glad that -your headache is better," he said to his wife, who had risen from -her seat to meet him. Phineas also had risen, and was now looking -somewhat sheepish where he stood. - -"I came out because it was worse," she said. "It irritated me so that -I could not stand the house any longer." - -"I will send to Callender for Dr. Macnuthrie." - -"Pray do nothing of the kind, Robert. I do not want Dr. Macnuthrie at -all." - -"Where there is illness, medical advice is always expedient." - -"I am not ill. A headache is not illness." - -"I had thought it was," said Mr. Kennedy, very drily. - -"At any rate, I would rather not have Dr. Macnuthrie." - -"I am sure it cannot do you any good to climb up here in the heat of -the sun. Had you been here long, Finn?" - -"All the morning;--here, or hereabouts. I clambered up from the lake -and had a book in my pocket." - -"And you happened to come across him by accident?" Mr. Kennedy -asked. There was something so simple in the question that its very -simplicity proved that there was no suspicion. - -"Yes;--by chance," said Lady Laura. "But every one at Loughlinter -always comes up here. If any one ever were missing whom I wanted to -find, this is where I should look." - -"I am going on towards Linter forest to meet Blane," said Mr. -Kennedy. Blane was the gamekeeper. "If you don't mind the trouble, -Finn, I wish you'd take Lady Laura down to the house. Do not let her -stay out in the heat. I will take care that somebody goes over to -Callender for Dr. Macnuthrie." Then Mr. Kennedy went on, and Phineas -was left with the charge of taking Lady Laura back to the house. When -Mr. Kennedy's hat had first appeared coming up the walk, Phineas -had been ready to proclaim himself prepared for any devotion in the -service of Lady Laura. Indeed, he had begun to reply with criminal -tenderness to the indiscreet avowal which Lady Laura had made to -him. But he felt now, after what had just occurred in the husband's -presence, that any show of tenderness,--of criminal tenderness,--was -impossible. The absence of all suspicion on the part of Mr. Kennedy -had made Phineas feel that he was bound by all social laws to refrain -from such tenderness. Lady Laura began to descend the path before -him without a word;--and went on, and on, as though she would have -reached the house without speaking, had he not addressed her. "Does -your head still pain you?" he asked. - -"Of course it does." - -"I suppose he is right in saying that you should not be out in the -heat." - -"I do not know. It is not worth while to think about that. He sends -me in, and so of course I must go. And he tells you to take me, and -so of course you must take me." - -"Would you wish that I should let you go alone?" - -"Yes, I would. Only he will be sure to find it out; and you must not -tell him that you left me at my request." - -"Do you think that I am afraid of him?" said Phineas. - -"Yes;--I think you are. I know that I am, and that papa is; and that -his mother hardly dares to call her soul her own. I do not know why -you should escape." - -"Mr. Kennedy is nothing to me." - -"He is something to me, and so I suppose I had better go on. And -now I shall have that horrid man from the little town pawing me -and covering everything with snuff, and bidding me take Scotch -physic,--which seems to increase in quantity and nastiness as doses -in England decrease. And he will stand over me to see that I take -it." - -"What;--the doctor from Callender?" - -"No;--but Mr. Kennedy will. If he advised me to have a hole in my -glove mended, he would ask me before he went to bed whether it was -done. He never forgot anything in his life, and was never unmindful -of anything. That I think will do, Mr. Finn. You have brought me out -from the trees, and that may be taken as bringing me home. We shall -hardly get scolded if we part here. Remember what I told you up -above. And remember also that it is in your power to do nothing else -for me. Good-bye." So he turned away towards the lake, and let Lady -Laura go across the wide lawn to the house by herself. - -He had failed altogether in his intention of telling his friend of -his love for Violet, and had come to perceive that he could not for -the present carry out that intention. After what had passed it would -be impossible for him to go to Lady Laura with a passionate tale of -his longing for Violet Effingham. If he were even to speak to her of -love at all, it must be quite of another love than that. But he never -would speak to her of love; nor,--as he felt quite sure,--would she -allow him to do so. But what astounded him most as he thought of the -interview which had just passed, was the fact that the Lady Laura -whom he had known,--whom he had thought he had known,--should have -become so subject to such a man as Mr. Kennedy, a man whom he had -despised as being weak, irresolute, and without a purpose! For the -day or two that he remained at Loughlinter, he watched the family -closely, and became aware that Lady Laura had been right when she -declared that her father was afraid of Mr. Kennedy. - -"I shall follow you almost immediately," said the Earl confidentially -to Phineas, when the candidate for the borough took his departure -from Loughlinter. "I don't like to be there just when the election is -going on, but I'll be at Saulsby to receive you the day afterwards." - -Phineas took his leave from Mr. Kennedy, with a warm expression of -friendship on the part of his host, and from Lady Laura with a mere -touch of the hand. He tried to say a word; but she was sullen, or, if -not, she put on some mood like to sullenness, and said never a word -to him. - -On the day after the departure of Phineas Finn for Loughton Lady -Laura Kennedy still had a headache. She had complained of a headache -ever since she had been at Loughlinter, and Dr. Macnuthrie had been -over more than once. "I wonder what it is that ails you," said her -husband, standing over her in her own sitting-room up-stairs. It was -a pretty room, looking away to the mountains, with just a glimpse of -the lake to be caught from the window, and it had been prepared for -her with all the skill and taste of an accomplished upholsterer. She -had selected the room for herself soon after her engagement, and had -thanked her future husband with her sweetest smile for giving her -the choice. She had thanked him and told him that she always meant -to be happy,--so happy in that room! He was a man not much given to -romance, but he thought of this promise as he stood over her and -asked after her health. As far as he could see she had never been -even comfortable since she had been at Loughlinter. A shadow of the -truth came across his mind. Perhaps his wife was bored. If so, what -was to be the future of his life and of hers? He went up to London -every year, and to Parliament, as a duty; and then, during some -period of the recess, would have his house full of guests,--as -another duty. But his happiness was to consist in such hours as these -which seemed to inflict upon his wife the penalty of a continual -headache. A shadow of the truth came upon him. What if his wife did -not like living quietly at home as the mistress of her husband's -house? What if a headache was always to be the result of a simple -performance of domestic duties? - -More than a shadow of truth had come upon Lady Laura herself. -The dark cloud created by the entire truth was upon her, making -everything black and wretched around her. She had asked herself a -question or two, and had discovered that she had no love for her -husband, that the kind of life which he intended to exact from her -was insupportable to her, and that she had blundered and fallen in -her entrance upon life. She perceived that her father had already -become weary of Mr. Kennedy, and that, lonely and sad as he would -be at Saulsby by himself, it was his intention to repudiate the -idea of making a home at Loughlinter. Yes;--she would be deserted by -everyone, except of course by her husband; and then-- Then she would -throw herself on some early morning into the lake, for life would be -insupportable. - -"I wonder what it is that ails you," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"Nothing serious. One can't always help having a headache, you know." - -"I don't think you take enough exercise, Laura. I would propose that -you should walk four miles every day after breakfast. I will always -be ready to accompany you. I have spoken to Dr. Macnuthrie--" - -"I hate Dr. Macnuthrie." - -"Why should you hate Dr. Macnuthrie, Laura?" - -"How can I tell why? I do. That is quite reason enough why you should -not send for him to me." - -"You are unreasonable, Laura. One chooses a doctor on account of -his reputation in his profession, and that of Dr. Macnuthrie stands -high." - -"I do not want any doctor." - -"But if you are ill, my dear--" - -"I am not ill." - -"But you said you had a headache. You have said so for the last ten -days." - -"Having a headache is not being ill. I only wish you would not talk -of it, and then perhaps I should get rid of it." - -"I cannot believe that. Headache in nine cases out of ten comes from -the stomach." Though he said this,--saying it because it was the -common-place common-sense sort of thing to say, still at the very -moment there was the shadow of the truth before his eyes. What if -this headache meant simple dislike to him, and to his modes of life? - -"It is nothing of that sort," said Lady Laura, impatient at having -her ailment inquired into with so much accuracy. - -"Then what is it? You cannot think that I can be happy to hear you -complaining of headache every day,--making it an excuse for absolute -idleness." - -"What is it that you want me to do?" she said, jumping up from her -seat. "Set me a task, and if I don't go mad over it, I'll get through -it. There are the account books. Give them to me. I don't suppose I -can see the figures, but I'll try to see them." - -"Laura, this is unkind of you,--and ungrateful." - -"Of course;--it is everything that is bad. What a pity that you did -not find it out last year! Oh dear, oh dear! what am I to do?" Then -she threw herself down upon the sofa, and put both her hands up to -her temples. - -"I will send for Dr. Macnuthrie at once," said Mr. Kennedy, walking -towards the door very slowly, and speaking as slowly as he walked. - -"No;--do no such thing," she said, springing to her feet again and -intercepting him before he reached the door. "If he comes I will not -see him. I give you my word that I will not speak to him if he comes. -You do not understand," she said; "you do not understand at all." - -"What is it that I ought to understand?" he asked. - -"That a woman does not like to be bothered." - -He made no reply at once, but stood there twisting the handle of the -door, and collecting his thoughts. "Yes," said he at last; "I am -beginning to find that out;--and to find out also what it is that -bothers a woman, as you call it. I can see now what it is that makes -your head ache. It is not the stomach. You are quite right there. It -is the prospect of a quiet decent life, to which would be attached -the performance of certain homely duties. Dr. Macnuthrie is a learned -man, but I doubt whether he can do anything for such a malady." - -"You are quite right, Robert; he can do nothing." - -"It is a malady you must cure for yourself, Laura;--and which is to -be cured by perseverance. If you can bring yourself to try--" - -"But I cannot bring myself to try at all," she said. - -"Do you mean to tell me, Laura, that you will make no effort to do -your duty as my wife?" - -"I mean to tell you that I will not try to cure a headache by doing -sums. That is all that I mean to say at this moment. If you will -leave me for awhile, so that I may lie down, perhaps I shall be able -to come to dinner." He still hesitated, standing with the door in his -hand. "But if you go on scolding me," she continued, "what I shall -do is to go to bed directly you go away." He hesitated for a moment -longer, and then left the room without another word. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -Mr. Slide's Grievance - - -Our hero was elected member for Loughton without any trouble to him -or, as far as he could see, to any one else. He made one speech from -a small raised booth that was called a platform, and that was all -that he was called upon to do. Mr. Grating made a speech in proposing -him, and Mr. Shortribs another in seconding him; and these were all -the speeches that were required. The thing seemed to be so very easy -that he was afterwards almost offended when he was told that the bill -for so insignificant a piece of work came to L247 13s. 9d. He had -seen no occasion for spending even the odd forty-seven pounds. But -then he was member for Loughton; and as he passed the evening alone -at the inn, having dined in company with Messrs. Grating, Shortribs, -and sundry other influential electors, he began to reflect that, -after all, it was not so very great a thing to be a member of -Parliament. It almost seemed that that which had come to him so -easily could not be of much value. - -On the following day he went to the castle, and was there when the -Earl arrived. They two were alone together, and the Earl was very -kind to him. "So you had no opponent after all," said the great man -of Loughton, with a slight smile. - -"Not the ghost of another candidate." - -"I did not think there would be. They have tried it once or twice and -have always failed. There are only one or two in the place who like -to go one way just because their neighbours go the other. But, in -truth, there is no conservative feeling in the place!" - -Phineas, although he was at the present moment the member for -Loughton himself, could not but enjoy the joke of this. Could there -be any liberal feeling in such a place, or, indeed, any political -feeling whatsoever? Would not Messrs. Grating and Shortribs have done -just the same had it happened that Lord Brentford had been a Tory -peer? "They all seemed to be very obliging," said Phineas, in answer -to the Earl. - -"Yes, they are. There isn't a house in the town, you know, let -for longer than seven years, and most of them merely from year to -year. And, do you know, I haven't a farmer on the property with a -lease,--not one; and they don't want leases. They know they're safe. -But I do like the people round me to be of the same way of thinking -as myself about politics." - -On the second day after dinner,--the last evening of Finn's visit to -Saulsby,--the Earl fell suddenly into a confidential conversation -about his daughter and his son, and about Violet Effingham. So -sudden, indeed, and so confidential was the conversation, that -Phineas was almost silenced for awhile. A word or two had been said -about Loughlinter, of the beauty of the place and of the vastness of -the property. "I am almost afraid," said Lord Brentford, "that Laura -is not happy there." - -"I hope she is," said Phineas. - -"He is so hard and dry, and what I call exacting. That is just the -word for it. Now Laura has never been used to that. With me she -always had her own way in everything, and I always found her fit -to have it. I do not understand why her husband should treat her -differently." - -"Perhaps it is the temper of the man." - -"Temper, yes; but what a bad prospect is that for her! And she, too, -has a temper, and so he will find if he tries her too far. I cannot -stand Loughlinter. I told Laura so fairly. It is one of those houses -in which a man cannot call his hours his own. I told Laura that I -could not undertake to remain there for above a day or two." - -"It is very sad," said Phineas. - -"Yes, indeed; it is sad for her, poor girl; and very sad for me too. -I have no one else but Laura,--literally no one; and now I am divided -from her! It seems that she has been taken as much away from me as -though her husband lived in China. I have lost them both now!" - -"I hope not, my lord." - -"I say I have. As to Chiltern, I can perceive that he becomes more -and more indifferent to me every day. He thinks of me only as a man -in his way who must die some day and may die soon." - -"You wrong him, Lord Brentford." - -"I do not wrong him at all. Why has he answered every offer I have -made him with so much insolence as to make it impossible for me to -put myself into further communion with him?" - -"He thinks that you have wronged him." - -"Yes;--because I have been unable to shut my eyes to his mode of -living. I was to go on paying his debts, and taking no other notice -whatsoever of his conduct!" - -"I do not think he is in debt now." - -"Because his sister the other day spent every shilling of her fortune -in paying them. She gave him L40,000! Do you think she would have -married Kennedy but for that? I don't. I could not prevent her. I had -said that I would not cripple my remaining years of life by raising -the money, and I could not go back from my word." - -"You and Chiltern might raise the money between you." - -"It would do no good now. She has married Mr. Kennedy, and the money -is nothing to her or to him. Chiltern might have put things right by -marrying Miss Effingham if he pleased." - -"I think he did his best there." - -"No;--he did his worst. He asked her to be his wife as a man asks for -a railway-ticket or a pair of gloves, which he buys with a price; -and because she would not jump into his mouth he gave it up. I don't -believe he even really wanted to marry her. I suppose he has some -disreputable connection to prevent it." - -"Nothing of the kind. He would marry her to-morrow if he could. My -belief is that Miss Effingham is sincere in refusing him." - -"I don't doubt her sincerity." - -"And that she will never change." - -"Ah, well; I don't agree with you, and I daresay I know them both -better than you do. But everything goes against me. I had set my -heart upon it, and therefore of course I shall be disappointed. What -is he going to do this autumn?" - -"He is yachting now." - -"And who are with him?" - -"I think the boat belongs to Captain Colepepper." - -"The greatest blackguard in all England! A man who shoots pigeons and -rides steeple-chases! And the worst of Chiltern is this, that even if -he didn't like the man, and if he were tired of this sort of life, he -would go on just the same because he thinks it a fine thing not to -give way." This was so true that Phineas did not dare to contradict -the statement, and therefore said nothing. "I had some faint hope," -continued the Earl, "while Laura could always watch him; because, in -his way, he was fond of his sister. But that is all over now. She -will have enough to do to watch herself!" - -Phineas had felt that the Earl had put him down rather sharply when -he had said that Violet would never accept Lord Chiltern, and he was -therefore not a little surprised when Lord Brentford spoke again of -Miss Effingham the following morning, holding in his hand a letter -which he had just received from her. "They are to be at Loughlinter -on the tenth," he said, "and she purposes to come here for a couple -of nights on her way." - -"Lady Baldock and all?" - -"Well, yes; Lady Baldock and all. I am not very fond of Lady Baldock, -but I will put up with her for a couple of days for the sake of -having Violet. She is more like a child of my own now than anybody -else. I shall not see her all the autumn afterwards. I cannot stand -Loughlinter." - -"It will be better when the house is full." - -"You will be there, I suppose?" - -"Well, no; I think not," said Phineas. - -"You have had enough of it, have you?" Phineas made no reply to this, -but smiled slightly. "By Jove, I don't wonder at it," said the Earl. -Phineas, who would have given all he had in the world to be staying -in the same country house with Violet Effingham, could not explain -how it had come to pass that he was obliged to absent himself. "I -suppose you were asked?" said the Earl. - -"Oh, yes, I was asked. Nothing can be kinder than they are." - -"Kennedy told me that you were coming as a matter of course." - -"I explained to him after that," said Phineas, "that I should not -return. I shall go over to Ireland. I have a deal of hard reading to -do, and I can get through it there without interruption." - -He went up from Saulsby to London on that day, and found himself -quite alone in Mrs. Bunce's lodgings. I mean not only that he was -alone at his lodgings, but he was alone at his club, and alone in the -streets. July was not quite over, and yet all the birds of passage -had migrated. Mr. Mildmay, by his short session, had half ruined the -London tradesmen, and had changed the summer mode of life of all -those who account themselves to be anybody. Phineas, as he sat alone -in his room, felt himself to be nobody. He had told the Earl that -he was going to Ireland, and to Ireland he must go;--because he had -nothing else to do. He had been asked indeed to join one or two -parties in their autumn plans. Mr. Monk had wanted him to go to the -Pyrenees, and Lord Chiltern had suggested that he should join the -yacht;--but neither plan suited him. It would have suited him to be -at Loughlinter with Violet Effingham, but Loughlinter was a barred -house to him. His old friend, Lady Laura, had told him not to come -thither, explaining, with sufficient clearness, her reasons for -excluding him from the number of her husband's guests. As he thought -of it the past scenes of his life became very marvellous to him. -Twelve months since he would have given all the world for a word of -love from Lady Laura, and had barely dared to hope that such a word, -at some future day, might possibly be spoken. Now such a word had in -truth been spoken, and it had come to be simply a trouble to him. She -had owned to him,--for, in truth, such had been the meaning of her -warning to him,--that, though she had married another man, she had -loved and did love him. But in thinking of this he took no pride in -it. It was not till he had thought of it long that he began to ask -himself whether he might not be justified in gathering from what -happened some hope that Violet also might learn to love him. He had -thought so little of himself as to have been afraid at first to press -his suit with Lady Laura. Might he not venture to think more of -himself, having learned how far he had succeeded? - -But how was he to get at Violet Effingham? From the moment at which -he had left Saulsby he had been angry with himself for not having -asked Lord Brentford to allow him to remain there till after the -Baldock party should have gone on to Loughlinter. The Earl, who was -very lonely in his house, would have consented at once. Phineas, -indeed, was driven to confess to himself that success with Violet -would at once have put an end to all his friendship with Lord -Brentford;--as also to all his friendship with Lord Chiltern. He -would, in such case, be bound in honour to vacate his seat and give -back Loughton to his offended patron. But he would have given up much -more than his seat for Violet Effingham! At present, however, he had -no means of getting at her to ask her the question. He could hardly -go to Loughlinter in opposition to the wishes of Lady Laura. - -A little adventure happened to him in London which somewhat relieved -the dulness of the days of the first week in August. He remained in -London till the middle of August, half resolving to rush down to -Saulsby when Violet Effingham should be there,--endeavouring to -find some excuse for such a proceeding, but racking his brains in -vain,--and then there came about his little adventure. The adventure -was commenced by the receipt of the following letter:-- - - - Banner of the People Office, - 3rd August, 186--. - - MY DEAR FINN, - - I must say I think you have treated me badly, and without - that sort of brotherly fairness which we on the public - press expect from one another. However, perhaps we can - come to an understanding, and if so, things may yet go - smoothly. Give me a turn and I am not at all adverse to - give you one. Will you come to me here, or shall I call - upon you? - - Yours always, Q. S. - - -Phineas was not only surprised, but disgusted also, at the receipt -of this letter. He could not imagine what was the deed by which he -had offended Mr. Slide. He thought over all the circumstances of -his short connection with the _People's Banner_, but could remember -nothing which might have created offence. But his disgust was greater -than his surprise. He thought that he had done nothing and said -nothing to justify Quintus Slide in calling him "dear Finn." He, -who had Lady Laura's secret in his keeping; he who hoped to be the -possessor of Violet Effingham's affections,--he to be called "dear -Finn" by such a one as Quintus Slide! He soon made up his mind that -he would not answer the note, but would go at once to the _People's -Banner_ office at the hour at which Quintus Slide was always there. -He certainly would not write to "dear Slide;" and, until he had heard -something more of this cause of offence, he would not make an enemy -for ever by calling the man "dear Sir." He went to the office of the -_People's Banner_, and found Mr. Slide ensconced in a little glass -cupboard, writing an article for the next day's copy. - -"I suppose you're very busy," said Phineas, inserting himself with -some difficulty on to a little stool in the corner of the cupboard. - -"Not so particular but what I'm glad to see you. You shoot, don't -you?" - -"Shoot!" said Phineas. It could not be possible that Mr. Slide was -intending, after this abrupt fashion, to propose a duel with pistols. - -"Grouse and pheasants, and them sort of things?" asked Mr. Slide. - -"Oh, ah; I understand. Yes, I shoot sometimes." - -"Is it the 12th or 20th for grouse in Scotland?" - -"The 12th," said Phineas. "What makes you ask that just now?" - -"I'm doing a letter about it,--advising men not to shoot too many of -the young birds, and showing that they'll have none next year if they -do. I had a fellow here just now who knew all about it, and he put -down a lot; but I forgot to make him tell me the day of beginning. -What's a good place to date from?" - -Phineas suggested Callender or Stirling. - -"Stirling's too much of a town, isn't it? Callender sounds better for -game, I think." - -So the letter which was to save the young grouse was dated from -Callender; and Mr. Quintus Slide having written the word, threw down -his pen, came off his stool, and rushed at once at his subject. - -"Well, now, Finn," he said, "don't you know that you've treated me -badly about Loughton?" - -"Treated you badly about Loughton!" Phineas, as he repeated the -words, was quite in the dark as to Mr. Slide's meaning. Did Mr. Slide -intend to convey a reproach because Phineas had not personally sent -some tidings of the election to the _People's Banner_? - -"Very badly," said Mr. Slide, with his arms akimbo,--"very badly -indeed! Men on the press together do expect that they're to be -stuck by, and not thrown over. Damn it, I say; what's the good of a -brotherhood if it ain't to be brotherhood?" - -"Upon my word, I don't know what you mean," said Phineas. - -"Didn't I tell you that I had Loughton in my heye?" said Quintus. - -"Oh--h!" - -"It's very well to say ho, and look guilty, but didn't I tell you?" - -"I never heard such nonsense in my life." - -"Nonsense?" - -"How on earth could you have stood for Loughton? What interest would -you have there? You could not even have found an elector to propose -you." - -"Now, I'll tell you what I'll do, Finn. I think you have thrown -me over most shabby, but I won't stand about that. You shall have -Loughton this session if you'll promise to make way for me after the -next election. If you'll agree to that, we'll have a special leader -to say how well Lord What's-his-name has done with the borough; and -we'll be your horgan through the whole session." - -"I never heard such nonsense in my life. In the first place, Loughton -is safe to be in the schedule of reduced boroughs. It will be thrown -into the county, or joined with a group." - -"I'll stand the chance of that. Will you agree?" - -"Agree! No! It's the most absurd proposal that was ever made. You -might as well ask me whether I would agree that you should go to -heaven. Go to heaven if you can, I should say. I have not the -slightest objection. But it's nothing to me." - -"Very well," said Quintus Slide. "Very well! Now we understand each -other, and that's all that I desire. I think that I can show you what -it is to come among gentlemen of the press, and then to throw them -over. Good morning." - -Phineas, quite satisfied at the result of the interview as regarded -himself, and by no means sorry that there should have arisen a -cause of separation between Mr. Quintus Slide and his "dear Finn," -shook off a little dust from his foot as he left the office of the -_People's Banner_, and resolved that in future he would attempt to -make no connection in that direction. As he returned home he told -himself that a member of Parliament should be altogether independent -of the press. On the second morning after his meeting with his late -friend, he saw the result of his independence. There was a startling -article, a tremendous article, showing the pressing necessity of -immediate reform, and proving the necessity by an illustration of -the borough-mongering rottenness of the present system. When such -a patron as Lord Brentford,--himself a Cabinet Minister with a -sinecure,--could by his mere word put into the House such a stick as -Phineas Finn,--a man who had struggled to stand on his legs before -the Speaker, but had wanted both the courage and the capacity, -nothing further could surely be wanted to prove that the Reform Bill -of 1832 required to be supplemented by some more energetic measure. - -Phineas laughed as he read the article, and declared to himself that -the joke was a good joke. But, nevertheless, he suffered. Mr. Quintus -Slide, when he was really anxious to use his thong earnestly, could -generally raise a wale. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -Was He Honest? - - -On the 10th of August, Phineas Finn did return to Loughton. He went -down by the mail train on the night of the 10th, having telegraphed -to the inn for a bed, and was up eating his breakfast in that -hospitable house at nine o'clock. The landlord and landlady with all -their staff were at a loss to imagine what had brought down their -member again so quickly to his borough; but the reader, who will -remember that Lady Baldock with her daughter and Violet Effingham -were to pass the 11th of the month at Saulsby, may perhaps be able -to make a guess on the subject. - -Phineas had been thinking of making this sudden visit to Loughton -ever since he had been up in town, but he could suggest to himself no -reason to be given to Lord Brentford for his sudden reappearance. The -Earl had been very kind to him, but he had said nothing which could -justify his young friend in running in and out of Saulsby Castle at -pleasure, without invitation and without notice. Phineas was so well -aware of this himself that often as he had half resolved during the -last ten days to return to Saulsby, so often had he determined that -he could not do so. He could think of no excuse. Then the heavens -favoured him, and he received a letter from Lord Chiltern, in which -there was a message for Lord Brentford. "If you see my father, tell -him that I am ready at any moment to do what is necessary for raising -the money for Laura." Taking this as his excuse he returned to -Loughton. - -As chance arranged it, he met the Earl standing on the great steps -before his own castle doors. "What, Finn; is this you? I thought you -were in Ireland." - -"Not yet, my lord, as you see." Then he opened his budget at once, -and blushed at his own hypocrisy as he went on with his story. He -had, he said, felt the message from Chiltern to be so all-important -that he could not bring himself to go over to Ireland without -delivering it. He urged upon the Earl that he might learn from this -how anxious Lord Chiltern was to effect a reconciliation. When -it occurred to him, he said, that there might be a hope of doing -anything towards such an object, he could not go to Ireland leaving -the good work behind him. In love and war all things are fair. So he -declared to himself; but as he did so he felt that his story was so -weak that it would hardly gain for him an admittance into the Castle. -In this he was completely wrong. The Earl, swallowing the bait, put -his arm through that of the intruder, and, walking with him through -the paths of the shrubbery, at length confessed that he would be glad -to be reconciled to his son if it were possible. "Let him come here, -and she shall be here also," said the Earl, speaking of Violet. To -this Phineas could say nothing out loud, but he told himself that all -should be fair between them. He would take no dishonest advantage of -Lord Chiltern. He would give Lord Chiltern the whole message as it -was given to him by Lord Brentford. But should it so turn out that he -himself got an opportunity of saying to Violet all that he had come -to say, and should it also turn out,--an event which he acknowledged -to himself to be most unlikely,--that Violet did not reject him, then -how could he write his letter to Lord Chiltern? So he resolved that -the letter should be written before he saw Violet. But how could he -write such a letter and instantly afterwards do that which would -be false to the spirit of a letter so written? Could he bid Lord -Chiltern come home to woo Violet Effingham, and instantly go forth -to woo her for himself? He found that he could not do so,--unless he -told the whole truth to Lord Chiltern. In no other way could he carry -out his project and satisfy his own idea of what was honest. - -The Earl bade him send to the hotel for his things. "The Baldock -people are all here, you know, but they go very early to-morrow." -Then Phineas declared that he also must return to London very early -on the morrow;--but in the meantime he would go to the inn and fetch -his things. The Earl thanked him again and again for his generous -kindness; and Phineas, blushing as he received the thanks, went back -and wrote his letter to Lord Chiltern. It was an elaborate letter, -written, as regards the first and larger portion of it, with words -intended to bring the prodigal son back to the father's home. And -everything was said about Miss Effingham that could or should have -been said. Then, on the last page, he told his own story. "Now," he -said, "I must speak of myself:"--and he went on to explain to his -friend, in the plainest language that he could use, his own position. -"I have loved her," he said, "for six months, and I am here with -the express intention of asking her to take me. The chances are ten -to one that she refuses me. I do not deprecate your anger,--if you -choose to be angry. But I am endeavouring to treat you well, and I -ask you to do the same by me. I must convey to you your father's -message, and after doing so I cannot address myself to Miss Effingham -without telling you. I should feel myself to be false were I to do -so. In the event,--the probable, nay, almost certain event of my -being refused,--I shall trust you to keep my secret. Do not quarrel -with me if you can help it;--but if you must I will be ready." Then -he posted the letter and went up to the Castle. - -He had only the one day for his action, and he knew that Violet was -watched by Lady Baldock as by a dragon. He was told that the Earl -was out with the young ladies, and was shown to his room. On going -to the drawing-room he found Lady Baldock, with whom he had been, -to a certain degree, a favourite, and was soon deeply engaged in -a conversation as to the practicability of shutting up all the -breweries and distilleries by Act of Parliament. But lunch relieved -him, and brought the young ladies in at two. Miss Effingham seemed -to be really glad to see him, and even Miss Boreham, Lady Baldock's -daughter, was very gracious to him. For the Earl had been speaking -well of his young member, and Phineas had in a way grown into the -good graces of sober and discreet people. After lunch they were to -ride;--the Earl, that is, and Violet. Lady Baldock and her daughter -were to have the carriage. "I can mount you, Finn, if you would like -it," said the Earl. "Of course he'll like it," said Violet; "do you -suppose Mr. Finn will object to ride with me in Saulsby Woods? It -won't be the first time, will it?" "Violet," said Lady Baldock, "you -have the most singular way of talking." "I suppose I have," said -Violet; "but I don't think I can change it now. Mr. Finn knows me too -well to mind it much." - -It was past five before they were on horseback, and up to that time -Phineas had not found himself alone with Violet Effingham for a -moment. They had sat together after lunch in the dining-room for -nearly an hour, and had sauntered into the hall and knocked about -the billiard balls, and then stood together at the open doors of a -conservatory. But Lady Baldock or Miss Boreham had always been there. -Nothing could be more pleasant than Miss Effingham's words, or more -familiar than her manner to Phineas. She had expressed strong delight -at his success in getting a seat in Parliament, and had talked to him -about the Kennedys as though they had created some special bond of -union between her and Phineas which ought to make them intimate. But, -for all that, she could not be got to separate herself from Lady -Baldock;--and when she was told that if she meant to ride she must go -and dress herself, she went at once. - -But he thought that he might have a chance on horseback; and after -they had been out about half an hour, chance did favour him. For -awhile he rode behind with the carriage, calculating that by his so -doing the Earl would be put off his guard, and would be disposed -after awhile to change places with him. And so it fell out. At a -certain fall of ground in the park, where the road turned round and -crossed a bridge over the little river, the carriage came up with the -first two horses, and Lady Baldock spoke a word to the Earl. Then -Violet pulled up, allowing the vehicle to pass the bridge first, and -in this way she and Phineas were brought together,--and in this way -they rode on. But he was aware that he must greatly increase the -distance between them and the others of their party before he could -dare to plead his suit, and even were that done he felt that he would -not know how to plead it on horseback. - -They had gone on some half mile in this way when they reached a spot -on which a green ride led away from the main road through the trees -to the left. "You remember this place, do you not?" said Violet. -Phineas declared that he remembered it well. "I must go round by the -woodman's cottage. You won't mind coming?" Phineas said that he would -not mind, and trotted on to tell them in the carriage. - -"Where is she going?" asked Lady Baldock; and then, when Phineas -explained, she begged the Earl to go back to Violet. The Earl, -feeling the absurdity of this, declared that Violet knew her way very -well herself, and thus Phineas got his opportunity. - -They rode on almost without speaking for nearly a mile, cantering -through the trees, and then they took another turn to the right, and -came upon the cottage. They rode to the door, and spoke a word or two -to the woman there, and then passed on. "I always come here when I am -at Saulsby," said Violet, "that I may teach myself to think kindly of -Lord Chiltern." - -"I understand it all," said Phineas. - -"He used to be so nice;--and is so still, I believe, only that he has -taught himself to be so rough. Will he ever change, do you think?" - -Phineas knew that in this emergency it was his especial duty to be -honest. "I think he would be changed altogether if we could bring him -here,--so that he should live among his friends." - -"Do you think he would? We must put our heads together, and do it. -Don't you think that it is to be done?" - -Phineas replied that he thought it was to be done. "I'll tell you the -truth at once, Miss Effingham," he said. "You can do it by a single -word." - -"Yes;--yes;" she said; "but I do not mean that;--without that. It -is absurd, you know, that a father should make such a condition as -that." Phineas said that he thought it was absurd; and then they rode -on again, cantering through the wood. He had been bold to speak to -her about Lord Chiltern as he had done, and she had answered just as -he would have wished to be answered. But how could he press his suit -for himself while she was cantering by his side? - -Presently they came to rough ground over which they were forced to -walk, and he was close by her side. "Mr. Finn," she said, "I wonder -whether I may ask a question?" - -"Any question," he replied. - -"Is there any quarrel between you and Lady Laura?" - -"None." - -"Or between you and him?" - -"No;--none. We are greater allies than ever." - -"Then why are you not going to be at Loughlinter? She has written to -me expressly saying you would not be there." - -He paused a moment before he replied. "It did not suit," he said at -last. - -"It is a secret then?" - -"Yes;--it is a secret. You are not angry with me?" - -"Angry; no." - -"It is not a secret of my own, or I should not keep it from you." - -"Perhaps I can guess it," she said. "But I will not try. I will not -even think of it." - -"The cause, whatever it be, has been full of sorrow to me. I would -have given my left hand to have been at Loughlinter this autumn." - -"Are you so fond of it?" - -"I should have been staying there with you," he said. He paused, and -for a moment there was no word spoken by either of them; but he could -perceive that the hand in which she held her whip was playing with -her horse's mane with a nervous movement. "When I found how it must -be, and that I must miss you, I rushed down here that I might see -you for a moment. And now I am here I do not dare to speak to you of -myself." They were now beyond the rocks, and Violet, without speaking -a word, again put her horse into a trot. He was by her side in a -moment, but he could not see her face. "Have you not a word to say to -me?" he asked. - -"No;--no;--no;" she replied, "not a word when you speak to me like -that. There is the carriage. Come;--we will join them." Then she -cantered on, and he followed her till they reached the Earl and Lady -Baldock and Miss Boreham. "I have done my devotions now," said Miss -Effingham, "and am ready to return to ordinary life." - -Phineas could not find another moment in which to speak to her. -Though he spent the evening with her, and stood over her as she sang -at the Earl's request, and pressed her hand as she went to bed, and -was up to see her start in the morning, he could not draw from her -either a word or a look. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -Mr. Monk upon Reform - - -Phineas Finn went to Ireland immediately after his return from -Saulsby, having said nothing further to Violet Effingham, and having -heard nothing further from her than what is recorded in the last -chapter. He felt very keenly that his position was unsatisfactory, -and brooded over it all the autumn and early winter; but he could -form no plan for improving it. A dozen times he thought of writing -to Miss Effingham, and asking for an explicit answer. He could not, -however, bring himself to write the letter, thinking that written -expressions of love are always weak and vapid,--and deterred also -by a conviction that Violet, if driven to reply in writing, would -undoubtedly reply by a refusal. Fifty times he rode again in his -imagination his ride in Saulsby Wood, and he told himself as often -that the syren's answer to him,--her no, no, no,--had been, of all -possible answers, the most indefinite and provoking. The tone of her -voice as she galloped away from him, the bearing of her countenance -when he rejoined her, her manner to him when he saw her start from -the Castle in the morning, all forbade him to believe that his words -to her had been taken as an offence. She had replied to him with a -direct negative, simply with the word "no;" but she had so said it -that there had hardly been any sting in the no; and he had known at -the moment that whatever might be the result of his suit, he need not -regard Violet Effingham as his enemy. - -But the doubt made his sojourn in Ireland very wearisome to him. -And there were other matters which tended also to his discomfort, -though he was not left even at this period of his life without a -continuation of success which seemed to be very wonderful. And, -first, I will say a word of his discomfort. He heard not a line from -Lord Chiltern in answer to the letter which he had written to his -lordship. From Lady Laura he did hear frequently. Lady Laura wrote to -him exactly as though she had never warned him away from Loughlinter, -and as though there had been no occasion for such warning. She sent -him letters filled chiefly with politics, saying something also of -the guests at Loughlinter, something of the game, and just a word -or two here and there of her husband. The letters were very good -letters, and he preserved them carefully. It was manifest to him that -they were intended to be good letters, and, as such, to be preserved. -In one of these, which he received about the end of November, -she told him that her brother was again in his old haunt, at the -Willingford Bull, and that he had sent to Portman Square for all -property of his own that had been left there. But there was no word -in that letter of Violet Effingham; and though Lady Laura did speak -more than once of Violet, she always did so as though Violet were -simply a joint acquaintance of herself and her correspondent. There -was no allusion to the existence of any special regard on his part -for Miss Effingham. He had thought that Violet might probably tell -her friend what had occurred at Saulsby;--but if she did so, Lady -Laura was happy in her powers of reticence. Our hero was disturbed -also when he reached home by finding that Mrs. Flood Jones and Miss -Flood Jones had retired from Killaloe for the winter. I do not know -whether he might not have been more disturbed by the presence of the -young lady, for he would have found himself constrained to exhibit -towards her some tenderness of manner; and any such tenderness of -manner would, in his existing circumstances, have been dangerous. But -he was made to understand that Mary Flood Jones had been taken away -from Killaloe because it was thought that he had ill-treated the -lady, and the accusation made him unhappy. In the middle of the heat -of the last session he had received a letter from his sister, in -which some pushing question had been asked as to his then existing -feeling about poor Mary. This he had answered petulantly. Nothing -more had been written to him about Miss Jones, and nothing was said -to him when he reached home. He could not, however, but ask after -Mary, and when he did ask, the accusation was made again in that -quietly severe manner with which, perhaps, most of us have been made -acquainted at some period of our lives. "I think, Phineas," said his -sister, "we had better say nothing about dear Mary. She is not here -at present, and probably you may not see her while you remain with -us." "What's all that about?" Phineas had demanded,--understanding -the whole matter thoroughly. Then his sister had demurely refused to -say a word further on the subject, and not a word further was said -about Miss Mary Flood Jones. They were at Floodborough, living, he -did not doubt, in a very desolate way,--and quite willing, he did not -doubt also, to abandon their desolation if he would go over there in -the manner that would become him after what had passed on one or two -occasions between him and the young lady. But how was he to do this -with such work on his hands as he had undertaken? Now that he was in -Ireland, he thought that he did love dear Mary very dearly. He felt -that he had two identities,--that he was, as it were, two separate -persons,--and that he could, without any real faithlessness, be very -much in love with Violet Effingham in his position of man of fashion -and member of Parliament in England, and also warmly attached to dear -little Mary Flood Jones as an Irishman of Killaloe. He was aware, -however, that there was a prejudice against such fulness of heart, -and, therefore, resolved sternly that it was his duty to be constant -to Miss Effingham. How was it possible that he should marry dear -Mary,--he, with such extensive jobs of work on his hands! It was not -possible. He must abandon all thought of making dear Mary his own. No -doubt they had been right to remove her. But, still, as he took his -solitary walks along the Shannon, and up on the hills that overhung -the lake above the town, he felt somewhat ashamed of himself, and -dreamed of giving up Parliament, of leaving Violet to some noble -suitor,--to Lord Chiltern, if she would take him,--and of going to -Floodborough with an honest proposal that he should be allowed to -press Mary to his heart. Miss Effingham would probably reject him -at last; whereas Mary, dear Mary, would come to his heart without -a scruple of doubt. Dear Mary! In these days of dreaming, he told -himself that, after all, dear Mary was his real love. But, of course, -such days were days of dreaming only. He had letters in his pocket -from Lady Laura Kennedy which made it impossible for him to think in -earnest of giving up Parliament. - -And then there came a wonderful piece of luck in his way. There -lived, or had lived, in the town of Galway a very eccentric old lady, -one Miss Marian Persse, who was the aunt of Mrs. Finn, the mother -of our hero. With this lady Dr. Finn had quarrelled persistently -ever since his marriage, because the lady had expressed her wish to -interfere in the management of his family,--offering to purchase such -right by favourable arrangements in reference to her will. This the -doctor had resented, and there had been quarrels. Miss Persse was not -a very rich old lady, but she thought a good deal of her own money. -And now she died, leaving L3,000 to her nephew Phineas Finn. Another -sum of about equal amount she bequeathed to a Roman Catholic -seminary; and thus was her worldly wealth divided. "She couldn't -have done better with it," said the old doctor; "and as far as we -are concerned, the windfall is the more pleasant as being wholly -unexpected." In these days the doctor was undoubtedly gratified by -his son's success in life, and never said much about the law. Phineas -in truth did do some work during the autumn, reading blue-books, -reading law books, reading perhaps a novel or two at the same -time,--but shutting himself up very carefully as he studied, so that -his sisters were made to understand that for a certain four hours in -the day not a sound was to be allowed to disturb him. - -On the receipt of his legacy he at once offered to repay his father -all money that had been advanced him over and above his original -allowance; but this the doctor refused to take. "It comes to the same -thing, Phineas," he said. "What you have of your share now you can't -have hereafter. As regards my present income, it has only made me -work a little longer than I had intended; and I believe that the -later in life a man works, the more likely he is to live." Phineas, -therefore, when he returned to London, had his £3,000 in his pocket. -He owed some L500; and the remainder he would, of course, invest. - -There had been some talk of an autumnal session, but Mr. Mildmay's -decision had at last been against it. Who cannot understand that such -would be the decision of any Minister to whom was left the slightest -fraction of free will in the matter? Why should any Minister court -the danger of unnecessary attack, submit himself to unnecessary work, -and incur the odium of summoning all his friends from their rest? -In the midst of the doubts as to the new and old Ministry, when -the political needle was vacillating so tremulously on its pivot, -pointing now to one set of men as the coming Government and then to -another, vague suggestions as to an autumn session might be useful. -And they were thrown out in all good faith. Mr. Mildmay, when he -spoke on the subject to the Duke, was earnest in thinking that the -question of Reform should not be postponed even for six months. -"Don't pledge yourself," said the Duke;--and Mr. Mildmay did not -pledge himself. Afterwards, when Mr. Mildmay found that he was -once more assuredly Prime Minister, he changed his mind, and felt -himself to be under a fresh obligation to the Duke. Lord de Terrier -had altogether failed, and the country might very well wait till -February. The country did wait till February, somewhat to the -disappointment of Phineas Finn, who had become tired of blue-books -at Killaloe. The difference between his English life and his life at -home was so great, that it was hardly possible that he should not -become weary of the latter. He did become weary of it, but strove -gallantly to hide his weariness from his father and mother. - -At this time the world was talking much about Reform, though Mr. -Mildmay had become placidly patient. The feeling was growing, and -Mr. Turnbull, with his friends, was doing all he could to make it -grow fast. There was a certain amount of excitement on the subject; -but the excitement had grown downwards, from the leaders to the -people,--from the self-instituted leaders of popular politics down, -by means of the press, to the ranks of working men, instead of -growing upwards, from the dissatisfaction of the masses, till it -expressed itself by this mouthpiece and that, chosen by the people -themselves. There was no strong throb through the country, making -men feel that safety was to be had by Reform, and could not be had -without Reform. But there was an understanding that the press and the -orators were too strong to be ignored, and that some new measure of -Reform must be conceded to them. The sooner the concession was made, -the less it might be necessary to concede. And all men of all parties -were agreed on this point. That Reform was in itself odious to many -of those who spoke of it freely, who offered themselves willingly to -be its promoters, was acknowledged. It was not only odious to Lord de -Terrier and to most of those who worked with him, but was equally so -to many of Mr. Mildmay's most constant supporters. The Duke had no -wish for Reform. Indeed it is hard to suppose that such a Duke can -wish for any change in a state of things that must seem to him to be -so salutary. Workmen were getting full wages. Farmers were paying -their rent. Capitalists by the dozen were creating capitalists by the -hundreds. Nothing was wrong in the country, but the over-dominant -spirit of speculative commerce;--and there was nothing in Reform to -check that. Why should the Duke want Reform? As for such men as Lord -Brentford, Sir Harry Coldfoot, Lord Plinlimmon, and Mr. Legge Wilson, -it was known to all men that they advocated Reform as we all of us -advocate doctors. Some amount of doctoring is necessary for us. We -may hardly hope to avoid it. But let us have as little of the doctor -as possible. Mr. Turnbull, and the cheap press, and the rising spirit -of the loudest among the people, made it manifest that something must -be conceded. Let us be generous in our concession. That was now the -doctrine of many,--perhaps of most of the leading politicians of the -day. Let us be generous. Let us at any rate seem to be generous. Let -us give with an open hand,--but still with a hand which, though open, -shall not bestow too much. The coach must be allowed to run down the -hill. Indeed, unless the coach goes on running no journey will be -made. But let us have the drag on both the hind wheels. And we must -remember that coaches running down hill without drags are apt to come -to serious misfortune. - -But there were men, even in the Cabinet, who had other ideas of -public service than that of dragging the wheels of the coach. Mr. -Gresham was in earnest. Plantagenet Palliser was in earnest. That -exceedingly intelligent young nobleman Lord Cantrip was in earnest. -Mr. Mildmay threw, perhaps, as much of earnestness into the matter -as was compatible with his age and his full appreciation of the -manner in which the present cry for Reform had been aroused. He was -thoroughly honest, thoroughly patriotic, and thoroughly ambitious -that he should be written of hereafter as one who to the end of a -long life had worked sedulously for the welfare of the people;--but -he disbelieved in Mr. Turnbull, and in the bottom of his heart -indulged an aristocratic contempt for the penny press. And there was -no man in England more in earnest, more truly desirous of Reform, -than Mr. Monk. It was his great political idea that political -advantages should be extended to the people, whether the people -clamoured for them or did not clamour for them,--even whether they -desired them or did not desire them. "You do not ask a child whether -he would like to learn his lesson," he would say. "At any rate, you -do not wait till he cries for his book." When, therefore, men said to -him that there was no earnestness in the cry for Reform, that the cry -was a false cry, got up for factious purposes by interested persons, -he would reply that the thing to be done should not be done in -obedience to any cry, but because it was demanded by justice, and was -a debt due to the people. - -Our hero in the autumn had written to Mr. Monk on the politics of the -moment, and the following had been Mr. Monk's reply:-- - - - Longroyston, October 12, 186--. - - MY DEAR FINN, - - I am staying here with the Duke and Duchess of St. - Bungay. The house is very full, and Mr. Mildmay was - here last week; but as I don't shoot, and can't play - billiards, and have no taste for charades, I am becoming - tired of the gaieties, and shall leave them to-morrow. - Of course you know that we are not to have the autumn - session. I think that Mr. Mildmay is right. Could we have - been sure of passing our measure, it would have been very - well; but we could not have been sure, and failure with - our bill in a session convened for the express purpose of - passing it would have injured the cause greatly. We could - hardly have gone on with it again in the spring. Indeed, - we must have resigned. And though I may truly say that I - would as lief have a good measure from Lord de Terrier - as from Mr. Mildmay, and that I am indifferent to my own - present personal position, still I think that we should - endeavour to keep our seats as long as we honestly - believe ourselves to be more capable of passing a good - measure than are our opponents. - - I am astonished by the difference of opinion which - exists about Reform,--not only as to the difference in - the extent and exact tendency of the measure that is - needed,--but that there should be such a divergence of - ideas as to the grand thing to be done and the grand - reason for doing it. We are all agreed that we want - Reform in order that the House of Commons may be returned - by a larger proportion of the people than is at present - employed upon that work, and that each member when - returned should represent a somewhat more equal section - of the whole constituencies of the country than our - members generally do at present. All men confess that a - L50 county franchise must be too high, and that a borough - with less than two hundred registered voters must be - wrong. But it seems to me that but few among us perceive, - or at any rate acknowledge, the real reasons for changing - these things and reforming what is wrong without delay. - One great authority told us the other day that the sole - object of legislation on this subject should be to get - together the best possible 658 members of Parliament. - That to me would be a most repulsive idea if it were - not that by its very vagueness it becomes inoperative. - Who shall say what is best; or what characteristic - constitutes excellence in a member of Parliament? If - the gentleman means excellence in general wisdom, or - in statecraft, or in skill in talking, or in private - character, or even excellence in patriotism, then I say - that he is utterly wrong, and has never touched with - his intellect the true theory of representation. One - only excellence may be acknowledged, and that is the - excellence of likeness. As a portrait should be like the - person portrayed, so should a representative House be - like the people whom it represents. Nor in arranging - a franchise does it seem to me that we have a right - to regard any other view. If a country be unfit for - representative government,--and it may be that there are - still peoples unable to use properly that greatest of - all blessings,--the question as to what state policy may - be best for them is a different question. But if we do - have representation, let the representative assembly be - like the people, whatever else may be its virtues,--and - whatever else its vices. - - Another great authority has told us that our House of - Commons should be the mirror of the people. I say, not - its mirror, but its miniature. And let the artist be - careful to put in every line of the expression of that - ever-moving face. To do this is a great work, and the - artist must know his trade well. In America the work has - been done with so coarse a hand that nothing is shown - in the picture but the broad, plain, unspeaking outline - of the face. As you look from the represented to the - representation you cannot but acknowledge the likeness; - --but there is in that portrait more of the body than of - the mind. The true portrait should represent more than - the body. With us, hitherto, there have been snatches - of the countenance of the nation which have been - inimitable,--a turn of the eye here and a curl of the lip - there, which have seemed to denote a power almost divine. - There have been marvels on the canvas so beautiful that - one approaches the work of remodelling it with awe. - But not only is the picture imperfect,--a thing of - snatches,--but with years it becomes less and still less - like its original. - - The necessity for remodelling it is imperative, and we - shall be cowards if we decline the work. But let us be - specially careful to retain as much as possible of those - lines which we all acknowledge to be so faithfully - representative of our nation. To give to a bare numerical - majority of the people that power which the numerical - majority has in the United States, would not be to - achieve representation. The nation as it now exists would - not be known by such a portrait;--but neither can it - now be known by that which exists. It seems to me that - they who are adverse to change, looking back with an - unmeasured respect on what our old Parliaments have done - for us, ignore the majestic growth of the English people, - and forget the present in their worship of the past. They - think that we must be what we were,--at any rate, what - we were thirty years since. They have not, perhaps, gone - into the houses of artisans, or, if there, they have not - looked into the breasts of the men. With population vice - has increased, and these politicians, with ears but - no eyes, hear of drunkenness and sin and ignorance. - And then they declare to themselves that this wicked, - half-barbarous, idle people should be controlled and not - represented. A wicked, half-barbarous, idle people may be - controlled;--but not a people thoughtful, educated, and - industrious. We must look to it that we do not endeavour - to carry our control beyond the wickedness and the - barbarity, and that we be ready to submit to control from - thoughtfulness and industry. - - I hope we shall find you helping at the good work early - in the spring. - - Yours, always faithfully, - - JOSHUA MONK. - - -Phineas was up in London before the end of January, but did not find -there many of those whom he wished to see. Mr. Low was there, and to -him he showed Mr. Monk's letter, thinking that it must be convincing -even to Mr. Low. This he did in Mrs. Low's drawing-room, knowing that -Mrs. Low would also condescend to discuss politics on an occasion. -He had dined with them, and they had been glad to see him, and Mrs. -Low had been less severe than hitherto against the great sin of her -husband's late pupil. She had condescended to congratulate him on -becoming member for an English borough instead of an Irish one, and -had asked him questions about Saulsby Castle. But, nevertheless, Mr. -Monk's letter was not received with that respectful admiration which -Phineas thought that it deserved. Phineas, foolishly, had read it -out loud, so that the attack came upon him simultaneously from the -husband and from the wife. - -"It is just the usual claptrap," said Mr. Low, "only put into -language somewhat more grandiloquent than usual." - -"Claptrap!" said Phineas. - -"It's what I call downright Radical nonsense," said Mrs. Low, nodding -her head energetically. "Portrait indeed! Why should we want to have -a portrait of ignorance and ugliness? What we all want is to have -things quiet and orderly." - -"Then you'd better have a paternal government at once," said Phineas. - -"Just so," said Mr. Low,--"only that what you call a paternal -government is not always quiet and orderly. National order I take to -be submission to the law. I should not think it quiet and orderly if -I were sent to Cayenne without being brought before a jury." - -"But such a man as you would not be sent to Cayenne," said Phineas, - -"My next-door neighbour might be,--which would be almost as bad. Let -him be sent to Cayenne if he deserves it, but let a jury say that -he has deserved it. My idea of government is this,--that we want -to be governed by law and not by caprice, and that we must have a -legislature to make our laws. If I thought that Parliament as at -present established made the laws badly, I would desire a change; -but I doubt whether we shall have them better from any change in -Parliament which Reform will give us." - -"Of course not," said Mrs. Low. "But we shall have a lot of beggars -put on horseback, and we all know where they ride to." - -Then Phineas became aware that it is not easy to convince any man or -any woman on a point of politics,--not even though he who argues may -have an eloquent letter from a philosophical Cabinet Minister in his -pocket to assist him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -Phineas Finn Makes Progress - - -February was far advanced and the new Reform Bill had already been -brought forward, before Lady Laura Kennedy came up to town. Phineas -had of course seen Mr. Kennedy and had heard from him tidings of -his wife. She was at Saulsby with Lady Baldock and Miss Boreham and -Violet Effingham, but was to be in London soon. Mr. Kennedy, as it -appeared, did not quite know when he was to expect his wife; and -Phineas thought that he could perceive from the tone of the husband's -voice that something was amiss. He could not however ask any -questions excepting such as referred to the expected arrival. Was -Miss Effingham to come to London with Lady Laura? Mr. Kennedy -believed that Miss Effingham would be up before Easter, but he did -not know whether she would come with his wife. "Women," he said, "are -so fond of mystery that one can never quite know what they intend to -do." He corrected himself at once however, perceiving that he had -seemed to say something against his wife, and explained that his -general accusation against the sex was not intended to apply to -Lady Laura. This, however, he did so awkwardly as to strengthen -the feeling with Phineas that something assuredly was wrong. "Miss -Effingham," said Mr. Kennedy, "never seems to know her own mind." -"I suppose she is like other beautiful girls who are petted on all -sides," said Phineas. "As for her beauty, I don't think much of it," -said Mr. Kennedy; "and as for petting, I do not understand it in -reference to grown persons. Children may be petted, and dogs,--though -that too is bad; but what you call petting for grown persons is I -think frivolous and almost indecent." Phineas could not help thinking -of Lord Chiltern's opinion that it would have been wise to have left -Mr. Kennedy in the hands of the garrotters. - -The debate on the second reading of the bill was to be commenced -on the 1st of March, and two days before that Lady Laura arrived -in Grosvenor Place. Phineas got a note from her in three words to -say that she was at home and would see him if he called on Sunday -afternoon. The Sunday to which she alluded was the last day of -February. Phineas was now more certain than ever that something -was wrong. Had there been nothing wrong between Lady Laura and her -husband, she would not have rebelled against him by asking visitors -to the house on a Sunday. He had nothing to do with that, however, -and of course he did as he was desired. He called on the Sunday, and -found Mrs. Bonteen sitting with Lady Laura. "I am just in time for -the debate," said Lady Laura, when the first greeting was over. - -"You don't mean to say that you intend to sit it out," said Mrs. -Bonteen. - -"Every word of it,--unless I lose my seat. What else is there to be -done at present?" - -"But the place they give us is so unpleasant," said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"There are worse places even than the Ladies' Gallery," said -Lady Laura. "And perhaps it is as well to make oneself used to -inconveniences of all kinds. You will speak, Mr. Finn?" - -"I intend to do so." - -"Of course you will. The great speeches will be Mr. Gresham's, Mr. -Daubeny's, and Mr. Monk's." - -"Mr. Palliser intends to be very strong," said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"A man cannot be strong or not as he likes it," said Lady Laura. "Mr. -Palliser I believe to be a most useful man, but he never can become -an orator. He is of the same class as Mr. Kennedy,--only of course -higher in the class." - -"We all look for a great speech from Mr. Kennedy," said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"I have not the slightest idea whether he will open his lips," said -Lady Laura. Immediately after that Mrs. Bonteen took her leave. -"I hate that woman like poison," continued Lady Laura. "She is -always playing a game, and it is such a small game that she plays! -And she contributes so little to society. She is not witty nor -well-informed,--not even sufficiently ignorant or ridiculous to be a -laughing-stock. One gets nothing from her, and yet she has made her -footing good in the world." - -"I thought she was a friend of yours." - -"You did not think so! You could not have thought so! How can you -bring such an accusation against me, knowing me as you do? But never -mind Mrs. Bonteen now. On what day shall you speak?" - -"On Tuesday if I can." - -"I suppose you can arrange it?" - -"I shall endeavour to do so, as far as any arrangement can go." - -"We shall carry the second reading," said Lady Laura. - -"Yes," said Phineas; "I think we shall; but by the votes of men who -are determined so to pull the bill to pieces in committee, that its -own parents will not know it. I doubt whether Mr. Mildmay will have -the temper to stand it." - -"They tell me that Mr. Mildmay will abandon the custody of the bill -to Mr. Gresham after his first speech." - -"I don't know that Mr. Gresham's temper is more enduring than Mr. -Mildmay's," said Phineas. - -"Well;--we shall see. My own impression is that nothing would save -the country so effectually at the present moment as the removal of -Mr. Turnbull to a higher and a better sphere." - -"Let us say the House of Lords," said Phineas. - -"God forbid!" said Lady Laura. - -Phineas sat there for half an hour and then got up to go, having -spoken no word on any other subject than that of politics. He longed -to ask after Violet. He longed to make some inquiry respecting Lord -Chiltern. And, to tell the truth, he felt painfully curious to -hear Lady Laura say something about her own self. He could not but -remember what had been said between them up over the waterfall, and -how he had been warned not to return to Loughlinter. And then again, -did Lady Laura know anything of what had passed between him and -Violet? "Where is your brother?" he said, as he rose from his chair. - -"Oswald is in London. He was here not an hour before you came in." - -"Where is he staying?" - -"At Moroni's. He goes down on Tuesday, I think. He is to see his -father to-morrow morning." - -"By agreement?" - -"Yes;--by agreement. There is a new trouble,--about money that they -think to be due to me. But I cannot tell you all now. There have been -some words between Mr. Kennedy and papa. But I won't talk about it. -You would find Oswald at Moroni's at any hour before eleven -to-morrow." - -"Did he say anything about me?" asked Phineas. - -"We mentioned your name certainly." - -"I do not ask from vanity, but I want to know whether he is angry -with me." - -"Angry with you! Not in the least. I'll tell you just what he said. -He said he should not wish to live even with you, but that he would -sooner try it with you than with any man he ever knew." - -"He had got a letter from me?" - -"He did not say so;--but he did not say he had not." - -"I will see him to-morrow if I can." And then Phineas prepared to go. - -"One word, Mr. Finn," said Lady Laura, hardly looking him in the face -and yet making an effort to do so. "I wish you to forget what I said -to you at Loughlinter." - -"It shall be as though it were forgotten," said Phineas. - -"Let it be absolutely forgotten. In such a case a man is bound to do -all that a woman asks him, and no man has a truer spirit of chivalry -than yourself. That is all. Look in when you can. I will not ask you -to dine here as yet, because we are so frightfully dull. Do your best -on Tuesday, and then let us see you on Wednesday. Good-bye." - -Phineas as he walked across the park towards his club made up his -mind that he would forget the scene by the waterfall. He had never -quite known what it had meant, and he would wipe it away from his -mind altogether. He acknowledged to himself that chivalry did demand -of him that he should never allow himself to think of Lady Laura's -rash words to him. That she was not happy with her husband was very -clear to him;--but that was altogether another affair. She might be -unhappy with her husband without indulging any guilty love. He had -never thought it possible that she could be happy living with such a -husband as Mr. Kennedy. All that, however, was now past remedy, and -she must simply endure the mode of life which she had prepared for -herself. There were other men and women in London tied together for -better and worse, in reference to whose union their friends knew that -there would be no better;--that it must be all worse. Lady Laura must -bear it, as it was borne by many another married woman. - -On the Monday morning Phineas called at Moroni's Hotel at ten -o'clock, but in spite of Lady Laura's assurance to the contrary, he -found that Lord Chiltern was out. He had felt some palpitation at the -heart as he made his inquiry, knowing well the fiery nature of the -man he expected to see. It might be that there would be some actual -personal conflict between him and this half-mad lord before he got -back again into the street. What Lady Laura had said about her -brother did not in the estimation of Phineas make this at all the -less probable. The half-mad lord was so singular in his ways that it -might well be that he should speak handsomely of a rival behind his -back and yet take him by the throat as soon as they were together, -face to face. And yet, as Phineas thought, it was necessary that he -should see the half-mad lord. He had written a letter to which he had -received no reply, and he considered it to be incumbent on him to -ask whether it had been received and whether any answer to it was -intended to be given. He went therefore to Lord Chiltern at once,--as -I have said, with some feeling at his heart that there might be -violence, at any rate of words, before he should find himself again -in the street. But Lord Chiltern was not there. All that the porter -knew was that Lord Chiltern intended to leave the house on the -following morning. Then Phineas wrote a note and left it with the -porter. - - - DEAR CHILTERN, - - I particularly want to see you with reference to a letter - I wrote to you last summer. I must be in the House to-day - from four till the debate is over. I will be at the Reform - Club from two till half-past three, and will come if you - will send for me, or I will meet you anywhere at any hour - to-morrow morning. - - Yours, always, P. F. - - -No message came to him at the Reform Club, and he was in his seat in -the House by four o'clock. During the debate a note was brought to -him, which ran as follows:-- - - - I have got your letter this moment. Of course we must - meet. I hunt on Tuesday, and go down by the early train; - but I will come to town on Wednesday. We shall require to - be private, and I will therefore be at your rooms at one - o'clock on that day.--C. - - -Phineas at once perceived that the note was a hostile note, written -in an angry spirit,--written to one whom the writer did not at the -moment acknowledge to be his friend. This was certainly the case, -whatever Lord Chiltern may have said to his sister as to his -friendship for Phineas. Phineas crushed the note into his pocket, and -of course determined that he would be in his rooms at the hour named. - -The debate was opened by a speech from Mr. Mildmay, in which that -gentleman at great length and with much perspicuity explained his -notion of that measure of Parliamentary Reform which he thought to -be necessary. He was listened to with the greatest attention to the -close,--and perhaps, at the end of his speech, with more attention -than usual, as there had gone abroad a rumour that the Prime Minister -intended to declare that this would be the last effort of his life -in that course. But, if he ever intended to utter such a pledge, his -heart misgave him when the time came for uttering it. He merely said -that as the management of the bill in committee would be an affair -of much labour, and probably spread over many nights, he would be -assisted in his work by his colleagues, and especially by his right -honourable friend the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. It was -then understood that Mr. Gresham would take the lead should the bill -go into committee;--but it was understood also that no resignation of -leadership had been made by Mr. Mildmay. - -The measure now proposed to the House was very much the same as that -which had been brought forward in the last session. The existing -theory of British representation was not to be changed, but the -actual practice was to be brought nearer to the ideal theory. The -ideas of manhood suffrage, and of electoral districts, were to be as -for ever removed from the bulwarks of the British Constitution. There -were to be counties with agricultural constituencies, purposely -arranged to be purely agricultural, whenever the nature of the -counties would admit of its being so. No artificer at Reform, let -him be Conservative or Liberal, can make Middlesex or Lancashire -agricultural; but Wiltshire and Suffolk were to be preserved -inviolable to the plough,--and the apples of Devonshire were still -to have their sway. Every town in the three kingdoms with a certain -population was to have two members. But here there was much room -for cavil,--as all men knew would be the case. Who shall say what -is a town, or where shall be its limits? Bits of counties might be -borrowed, so as to lessen the Conservatism of the county without -endangering the Liberalism of the borough. And then there were the -boroughs with one member,--and then the groups of little boroughs. -In the discussion of any such arrangement how easy is the picking -of holes; how impossible the fabrication of a garment that shall be -impervious to such picking! Then again there was that great question -of the ballot. On that there was to be no mistake. Mr. Mildmay again -pledged himself to disappear from the Treasury bench should any -motion, clause, or resolution be carried by that House in favour of -the ballot. He spoke for three hours, and then left the carcass of -his bill to be fought for by the opposing armies. - -No reader of these pages will desire that the speeches in the debate -should be even indicated. It soon became known that the Conservatives -would not divide the House against the second reading of the bill. -They declared, however, very plainly their intention of so altering -the clauses of the bill in committee,--or at least of attempting so -to do,--as to make the bill their bill, rather than the bill of their -opponents. To this Mr. Palliser replied that as long as nothing vital -was touched, the Government would only be too happy to oblige their -friends opposite. If anything vital were touched, the Government -could only fall back upon their friends on that side. And in this way -men were very civil to each other. But Mr. Turnbull, who opened the -debate on the Tuesday, thundered out an assurance to gods and men -that he would divide the House on the second reading of the bill -itself. He did not doubt but that there were many good men and true -to go with him into the lobby, but into the lobby he would go if he -had no more than a single friend to support him. And he warned the -Sovereign, and he warned the House, and he warned the people of -England, that the measure of Reform now proposed by a so-called -liberal Minister was a measure prepared in concert with the ancient -enemies of the people. He was very loud, very angry, and quite -successful in hallooing down sundry attempts which were made to -interrupt him. "I find," he said, "that there are many members here -who do not know me yet,--young members, probably, who are green from -the waste lands and road-sides of private life. They will know me -soon, and then, may be, there will be less of this foolish noise, -less of this elongation of unnecessary necks. Our Rome must be -aroused to a sense of its danger by other voices than these." He -was called to order, but it was ruled that he had not been out of -order,--and he was very triumphant. Mr. Monk answered him, and it -was declared afterwards that Mr. Monk's speech was one of the finest -pieces of oratory that had ever been uttered in that House. He made -one remark personal to Mr. Turnbull. "I quite agreed with the right -honourable gentleman in the chair," he said, "when he declared that -the honourable member was not out of order just now. We all of us -agree with him always on such points. The rules of our House have -been laid down with the utmost latitude, so that the course of our -debates may not be frivolously or too easily interrupted. But a -member may be so in order as to incur the displeasure of the House, -and to merit the reproaches of his countrymen." This little duel -gave great life to the debate; but it was said that those two great -Reformers, Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Monk, could never again meet as -friends. - -In the course of the debate on Tuesday, Phineas got upon his legs. -The reader, I trust, will remember that hitherto he had failed -altogether as a speaker. On one occasion he had lacked even the -spirit to use and deliver an oration which he had prepared. On -a second occasion he had broken down,--woefully, and past all -redemption, as said those who were not his friends,--unfortunately, -but not past redemption, as said those who were his true friends. -After that once again he had arisen and said a few words which had -called for no remark, and had been spoken as though he were in the -habit of addressing the House daily. It may be doubted whether there -were half-a-dozen men now present who recognised the fact that this -man, who was so well known to so many of them, was now about to -make another attempt at a first speech. Phineas himself diligently -attempted to forget that such was the case. He had prepared for -himself a few headings of what he intended to say, and on one or -two points had arranged his words. His hope was that even though -he should forget the words, he might still be able to cling to the -thread of his discourse. When he found himself again upon his legs -amidst those crowded seats, for a few moments there came upon him -that old sensation of awe. Again things grew dim before his eyes, and -again he hardly knew at which end of that long chamber the Speaker -was sitting. But there arose within him a sudden courage, as soon as -the sound of his own voice in that room had made itself intimate to -his ear; and after the first few sentences, all fear, all awe, was -gone from him. When he read his speech in the report afterwards, he -found that he had strayed very wide of his intended course, but he -had strayed without tumbling into ditches, or falling into sunken -pits. He had spoken much from Mr. Monk's letter, but had had the -grace to acknowledge whence had come his inspiration. He hardly knew, -however, whether he had failed again or not, till Barrington Erle -came up to him as they were leaving the House, with his old easy -pressing manner. "So you have got into form at last," he said. "I -always thought that it would come. I never for a moment believed -but that it would come sooner or later." Phineas Finn answered -not a word; but he went home and lay awake all night triumphant. -The verdict of Barrington Erle sufficed to assure him that he had -succeeded. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -A Rough Encounter - - -Phineas, when he woke, had two matters to occupy his mind,--his -success of the previous night, and his coming interview with Lord -Chiltern. He stayed at home the whole morning, knowing that nothing -could be done before the hour Lord Chiltern had named for his visit. -He read every word of the debate, studiously postponing the perusal -of his own speech till he should come to it in due order. And then he -wrote to his father, commencing his letter as though his writing had -no reference to the affairs of the previous night. But he soon found -himself compelled to break into some mention of it. "I send you a -_Times_," he said, "in order that you may see that I have had my -finger in the pie. I have hitherto abstained from putting myself -forward in the House, partly through a base fear for which I despise -myself, and partly through a feeling of prudence that a man of my age -should not be in a hurry to gather laurels. This is literally true. -There has been the fear, and there has been the prudence. My wonder -is, that I have not incurred more contempt from others because I have -been a coward. People have been so kind to me that I must suppose -them to have judged me more leniently than I have judged myself." -Then, as he was putting up the paper, he looked again at his own -speech, and of course read every word of it once more. As he did so -it occurred to him that the reporters had been more than courteous to -him. The man who had followed him had been, he thought, at any rate -as long-winded as himself; but to this orator less than half a column -had been granted. To him had been granted ten lines in big type, and -after that a whole column and a half. Let Lord Chiltern come and do -his worst! - -When it wanted but twenty minutes to one, and he was beginning to -think in what way he had better answer the half-mad lord, should the -lord in his wrath be very mad, there came to him a note by the hand -of some messenger. He knew at once that it was from Lady Laura, and -opened it in hot haste It was as follows:-- - - - DEAR MR. FINN, - - We are all talking about your speech. My father was in - the gallery and heard it,--and said that he had to thank - me for sending you to Loughton. That made me very happy. - Mr. Kennedy declares that you were eloquent, but too - short. That coming from him is praise indeed. I have seen - Barrington, who takes pride to himself that you are his - political child. Violet says that it is the only speech - she ever read. I was there, and was delighted. I was sure - that it was in you to do it. - - Yours, L. K. - - I suppose we shall see you after the House is up, but - I write this as I shall barely have an opportunity of - speaking to you then. I shall be in Portman Square, not - at home, from six till seven. - - -The moment in which Phineas refolded this note and put it into his -breast coat-pocket was, I think, the happiest of his life. Then, -before he had withdrawn his hand from his breast, he remembered that -what was now about to take place between him and Lord Chiltern would -probably be the means of separating him altogether from Lady Laura -and her family. Nay, might it not render it necessary that he should -abandon the seat in Parliament which had been conferred upon him by -the personal kindness of Lord Brentford? Let that be as it might. One -thing was clear to him. He would not abandon Violet Effingham till -he should be desired to do so in the plainest language by Violet -Effingham herself. Looking at his watch he saw that it was one -o'clock, and at that moment Lord Chiltern was announced. - -Phineas went forward immediately with his hand out to meet his -visitor. "Chiltern," he said, "I am very glad to see you." But Lord -Chiltern did not take his hand. Passing on to the table, with his hat -still on his head, and with a dark scowl upon his brow, the young -lord stood for a few moments perfectly silent. Then he chucked a -letter across the table to the spot at which Phineas was standing. -Phineas, taking up the letter, perceived that it was that which -he, in his great attempt to be honest, had written from the inn at -Loughton. "It is my own letter to you," he said. - -"Yes; it is your letter to me. I received it oddly enough together -with your own note at Moroni's,--on Monday morning. It has been -round the world, I suppose, and reached me only then. You must -withdraw it." - -"Withdraw it?" - -"Yes, sir, withdraw it. As far as I can learn, without asking any -question which would have committed myself or the young lady, you -have not acted upon it. You have not yet done what you there threaten -to do. In that you have been very wise, and there can be no -difficulty in your withdrawing the letter." - -"I certainly shall not withdraw it, Lord Chiltern." - -"Do you remember--what--I once--told you,--about myself and Miss -Effingham?" This question he asked very slowly, pausing between the -words, and looking full into the face of his rival, towards whom he -had gradually come nearer. And his countenance, as he did so, was -by no means pleasant. The redness of his complexion had become more -ruddy than usual; he still wore his hat as though with studied -insolence; his right hand was clenched; and there was that look of -angry purpose in his eye which no man likes to see in the eye of an -antagonist. Phineas was afraid of no violence, personal to himself; -but he was afraid of,--of what I may, perhaps, best call "a row." -To be tumbling over the chairs and tables with his late friend and -present enemy in Mrs. Bunce's room would be most unpleasant to him. -If there were to be blows he, too, must strike;--and he was very -averse to strike Lady Laura's brother, Lord Brentford's son, Violet -Effingham's friend. If need be, however, he would strike. - -"I suppose I remember what you mean," said Phineas. "I think you -declared that you would quarrel with any man who might presume to -address Miss Effingham. Is it that to which you allude?" - -"It is that," said Lord Chiltern. - -"I remember what you said very well. If nothing else was to deter me -from asking Miss Effingham to be my wife, you will hardly think that -that ought to have any weight. The threat had no weight." - -"It was not spoken as a threat, sir, and that you know as well as I -do. It was said from a friend to a friend,--as I thought then. But it -is not the less true. I wonder what you can think of faith and truth -and honesty of purpose when you took advantage of my absence,--you, -whom I had told a thousand times that I loved her better than my own -soul! You stand before the world as a rising man, and I stand before -the world as a man--damned. You have been chosen by my father to sit -for our family borough, while I am an outcast from his house. You -have Cabinet Ministers for your friends, while I have hardly a decent -associate left to me in the world. But I can say of myself that I -have never done anything unworthy of a gentleman, while this thing -that you are doing is unworthy of the lowest man." - -"I have done nothing unworthy," said Phineas. "I wrote to you -instantly when I had resolved,--though it was painful to me to have -to tell such a secret to any one." - -"You wrote! Yes; when I was miles distant; weeks, months away. But I -did not come here to bullyrag like an old woman. I got your letter -only on Monday, and know nothing of what has occurred. Is Miss -Effingham to be--your wife?" Lord Chiltern had now come quite close -to Phineas, and Phineas felt that that clenched fist might be in his -face in half a moment. Miss Effingham of course was not engaged to -him, but it seemed to him that if he were now so to declare, such -declaration would appear to have been drawn from him by fear. "I ask -you," said Lord Chiltern, "in what position you now stand towards -Miss Effingham. If you are not a coward you will tell me." - -"Whether I tell you or not, you know that I am not a coward," said -Phineas. - -"I shall have to try," said Lord Chiltern. "But if you please I will -ask you for an answer to my question." - -Phineas paused for a moment, thinking what honesty of purpose and -a high spirit would, when combined together, demand of him, and -together with these requirements he felt that he was bound to join -some feeling of duty towards Miss Effingham. Lord Chiltern was -standing there, fiery red, with his hand still clenched, and his hat -still on, waiting for his answer. "Let me have your question again," -said Phineas, "and I will answer it if I find that I can do so -without loss of self-respect." - -"I ask you in what position you stand towards Miss Effingham. Mind, -I do not doubt at all, but I choose to have a reply from yourself." - -"You will remember, of course, that I can only answer to the best of -my belief." - -"Answer to the best of your belief." - -"I think she regards me as an intimate friend." - -"Had you said as an indifferent acquaintance, you would, I think, -have been nearer the mark. But we will let that be. I presume I -may understand that you have given up any idea of changing that -position?" - -"You may understand nothing of the kind, Lord Chiltern." - -"Why;--what hope have you?" - -"That is another thing. I shall not speak of that;--at any rate not -to you." - -"Then, sir,--" and now Lord Chiltern advanced another step and raised -his hand as though he were about to put it with some form of violence -on the person of his rival. - -"Stop, Chiltern," said Phineas, stepping back, so that there was some -article of furniture between him and his adversary. "I do not choose -that there should be a riot here." - -"What do you call a riot, sir? I believe that after all you are a -poltroon. What I require of you is that you shall meet me. Will you -do that?" - -"You mean,--to fight?" - -"Yes,--to fight; to fight; to fight. For what other purpose do you -suppose that I can wish to meet you?" Phineas felt at the moment that -the fighting of a duel would be destructive to all his political -hopes. Few Englishmen fight duels in these days. They who do so -are always reckoned to be fools. And a duel between him and Lord -Brentford's son must, as he thought, separate him from Violet, from -Lady Laura, from Lord Brentford, and from his borough. But yet how -could he refuse? "What have you to think of, sir, when such an offer -as that is made to you?" said the fiery-red lord. - -"I have to think whether I have courage enough to refuse to make -myself an ass." - -"You say that you do not wish to have a riot. That is your way to -escape what you call--a riot." - -"You want to bully me, Chiltern." - -"No, sir;--I simply want this, that you should leave me where you -found me, and not interfere with that which you have long known I -claim as my own." - -"But it is not your own." - -"Then you can only fight me." - -"You had better send some friend to me, and I will name some one, -whom he shall meet." - -"Of course I will do that if I have your promise to meet me. We -can be in Belgium in an hour or two, and back again in a few more -hours;--that is, any one of us who may chance to be alive. - -"I will select a friend, and will tell him everything, and will then -do as he bids me." - -"Yes;--some old steady-going buffer. Mr. Kennedy, perhaps." - -"It will certainly not be Mr. Kennedy. I shall probably ask Laurence -Fitzgibbon to manage for me in such an affair." - -"Perhaps you will see him at once, then, so that Colepepper may -arrange with him this afternoon. And let me assure you, Mr. Finn, -that there will be a meeting between us after some fashion, let the -ideas of your friend Mr. Fitzgibbon be what they may." Then Lord -Chiltern purposed to go, but turned again as he was going. "And -remember this," he said, "my complaint is that you have been false to -me,--damnably false; not that you have fallen in love with this young -lady or with that." Then the fiery-red lord opened the door for -himself and took his departure. - -Phineas, as soon as he was alone, walked down to the House, at which -there was an early sitting. As he went there was one great question -which he had to settle with himself,--Was there any justice in the -charge made against him that he had been false to his friend? When he -had thought over the matter at Saulsby, after rushing down there that -he might throw himself at Violet's feet, he had assured himself that -such a letter as that which he resolved to write to Lord Chiltern, -would be even chivalrous in its absolute honesty. He would tell his -purpose to Lord Chiltern the moment that his purpose was formed;--and -would afterwards speak of Lord Chiltern behind his back as one -dear friend should speak of another. Had Miss Effingham shown the -slightest intention of accepting Lord Chiltern's offer, he would have -acknowledged to himself that the circumstances of his position made -it impossible that he should, with honour, become his friend's rival. -But was he to be debarred for ever from getting that which he wanted -because Lord Chiltern wanted it also,--knowing, as he did so well, -that Lord Chiltern could not get the thing which he wanted? All this -had been quite sufficient for him at Saulsby. But now the charge -against him that he had been false to his friend rang in his ears and -made him unhappy. It certainly was true that Lord Chiltern had not -given up his hopes, and that he had spoken probably more openly to -Phineas respecting them than he had done to any other human being. If -it was true that he had been false, then he must comply with any -requisition which Lord Chiltern might make,--short of voluntarily -giving up the lady. He must fight if he were asked to do so, even -though fighting were his ruin. - -When again in the House yesterday's scene came back upon him, and -more than one man came to him congratulating him. Mr. Monk took his -hand and spoke a word to him. The old Premier nodded to him. Mr. -Gresham greeted him; and Plantagenet Palliser openly told him that -he had made a good speech. How sweet would all this have been had -there not been ever at his heart the remembrance of his terrible -difficulty,--the consciousness that he was about to be forced into -an absurdity which would put an end to all this sweetness! Why was -the world in England so severe against duelling? After all, as he -regarded the matter now, a duel might be the best way, nay, the only -way out of a difficulty. If he might only be allowed to go out with -Lord Chiltern the whole thing might be arranged. If he were not shot -he might carry on his suit with Miss Effingham unfettered by any -impediment on that side. And if he were shot, what matter was that -to any one but himself? Why should the world be so thin-skinned,--so -foolishly chary of human life? - -Laurence Fitzgibbon did not come to the House, and Phineas looked for -him at both the clubs which he frequented,--leaving a note at each as -he did not find him. He also left a note for him at his lodgings in -Duke Street. "I must see you this evening. I shall dine at the Reform -Club,--pray come there." After that, Phineas went up to Portman -Square, in accordance with the instructions received from Lady Laura. - -There he saw Violet Effingham, meeting her for the first time since -he had parted from her on the great steps at Saulsby. Of course -he spoke to her, and of course she was gracious to him. But her -graciousness was only a smile and his speech was only a word. There -were many in the room, but not enough to make privacy possible,--as -it becomes possible at a crowded evening meeting. Lord Brentford -was there, and the Bonteens, and Barrington Erle, and Lady Glencora -Palliser, and Lord Cantrip with his young wife. It was manifestly a -meeting of Liberals, semi-social and semi-political;--so arranged -that ladies might feel that some interest in politics was allowed -to them, and perhaps some influence also. Afterwards Mr. Palliser -himself came in. Phineas, however, was most struck by finding that -Laurence Fitzgibbon was there, and that Mr. Kennedy was not. In -regard to Mr. Kennedy, he was quite sure that had such a meeting -taken place before Lady Laura's marriage, Mr. Kennedy would have -been present. "I must speak to you as we go away," said Phineas, -whispering a word into Fitzgibbon's ear. "I have been leaving notes -for you all about the town." "Not a duel, I hope," said Fitzgibbon. - -How pleasant it was,--that meeting; or would have been had there not -been that nightmare on his breast! They all talked as though there -were perfect accord between them and perfect confidence. There were -there great men,--Cabinet Ministers, and beautiful women,--the wives -and daughters of some of England's highest nobles. And Phineas Finn, -throwing back, now and again, a thought to Killaloe, found himself -among them as one of themselves. How could any Mr. Low say that he -was wrong? - -On a sofa near to him, so that he could almost touch her foot with -his, was sitting Violet Effingham, and as he leaned over from his -chair discussing some point in Mr. Mildmay's bill with that most -inveterate politician, Lady Glencora, Violet looked into his face and -smiled. Oh heavens! If Lord Chiltern and he might only toss up as to -which of them should go to Patagonia and remain there for the next -ten years, and which should have Violet Effingham for a wife in -London! - -"Come along, Phineas, if you mean to come," said Laurence Fitzgibbon. -Phineas was of course bound to go, though Lady Glencora was still -talking Radicalism, and Violet Effingham was still smiling ineffably. - - - - - -VOLUME II - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -The Duel - - -"I knew it was a duel;--bedad I did," said Laurence Fitzgibbon, -standing at the corner of Orchard Street and Oxford Street, when -Phineas had half told his story. "I was sure of it from the tone of -your voice, my boy. We mustn't let it come off, that's all;--not -if we can help it." Then Phineas was allowed to proceed and finish -his story. "I don't see any way out of it; I don't, indeed," said -Laurence. By this time Phineas had come to think that the duel was in -very truth the best way out of the difficulty. It was a bad way out, -but then it was a way;--and he could not see any other. "As for ill -treating him, that's nonsense," said Laurence. "What are the girls to -do, if one fellow mayn't come on as soon as another fellow is down? -But then, you see, a fellow never knows when he's down himself, and -therefore he thinks that he's ill used. I'll tell you what now. I -shouldn't wonder if we couldn't do it on the sly,--unless one of you -is stupid enough to hit the other in an awkward place. If you are -certain of your hand now, the right shoulder is the best spot." -Phineas felt very certain that he would not hit Lord Chiltern in an -awkward place, although he was by no means sure of his hand. Let come -what might, he would not aim at his adversary. But of this he had -thought it proper to say nothing to Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -And the duel did come off on the sly. The meeting in the drawing-room -in Portman Square, of which mention was made in the last chapter, -took place on a Wednesday afternoon. On the Thursday, Friday, Monday, -and Tuesday following, the great debate on Mr. Mildmay's bill was -continued, and at three on the Tuesday night the House divided. There -was a majority in favour of the Ministers, not large enough to permit -them to claim a triumph for their party, or even an ovation for -themselves; but still sufficient to enable them to send their bill -into committee. Mr. Daubeny and Mr. Turnbull had again joined -their forces together in opposition to the ministerial measure. On -the Thursday Phineas had shown himself in the House, but during -the remainder of this interesting period he was absent from his -place, nor was he seen at the clubs, nor did any man know of his -whereabouts. I think that Lady Laura Kennedy was the first to miss -him with any real sense of his absence. She would now go to Portman -Square on the afternoon of every Sunday,--at which time her husband -was attending the second service of his church,--and there she would -receive those whom she called her father's guests. But as her father -was never there on the Sundays, and as these gatherings had been -created by herself, the reader will probably think that she was -obeying her husband's behests in regard to the Sabbath after a very -indifferent fashion. The reader may be quite sure, however, that Mr. -Kennedy knew well what was being done in Portman Square. Whatever -might be Lady Laura's faults, she did not commit the fault of -disobeying her husband in secret. There were, probably, a few words -on the subject; but we need not go very closely into that matter at -the present moment. - -On the Sunday which afforded some rest in the middle of the great -Reform debate Lady Laura asked for Mr. Finn, and no one could answer -her question. And then it was remembered that Laurence Fitzgibbon -was also absent. Barrington Erle knew nothing of Phineas,--had heard -nothing; but was able to say that Fitzgibbon had been with Mr. -Ratler, the patronage secretary and liberal whip, early on Thursday, -expressing his intention of absenting himself for two days. Mr. -Ratler had been wroth, bidding him remain at his duty, and pointing -out to him the great importance of the moment. Then Barrington Erle -quoted Laurence Fitzgibbon's reply. "My boy," said Laurence to poor -Ratler, "the path of duty leads but to the grave. All the same; I'll -be in at the death, Ratler, my boy, as sure as the sun's in heaven." -Not ten minutes after the telling of this little story, Fitzgibbon -entered the room in Portman Square, and Lady Laura at once asked him -after Phineas. "Bedad, Lady Laura, I have been out of town myself for -two days, and I know nothing." - -"Mr. Finn has not been with you, then?" - -"With me! No,--not with me. I had a job of business of my own which -took me over to Paris. And has Phinny fled too? Poor Ratler! I -shouldn't wonder if it isn't an asylum he's in before the session is -over." - -Laurence Fitzgibbon certainly possessed the rare accomplishment of -telling a lie with a good grace. Had any man called him a liar he -would have considered himself to be not only insulted, but injured -also. He believed himself to be a man of truth. There were, however, -in his estimation certain subjects on which a man might depart as -wide as the poles are asunder from truth without subjecting himself -to any ignominy for falsehood. In dealing with a tradesman as to his -debts, or with a rival as to a lady, or with any man or woman in -defence of a lady's character, or in any such matter as that of a -duel, Laurence believed that a gentleman was bound to lie, and that -he would be no gentleman if he hesitated to do so. Not the slightest -prick of conscience disturbed him when he told Lady Laura that he -had been in Paris, and that he knew nothing of Phineas Finn. But, in -truth, during the last day or two he had been in Flanders, and not in -Paris, and had stood as second with his friend Phineas on the sands -at Blankenberg, a little fishing-town some twelve miles distant -from Bruges, and had left his friend since that at an hotel at -Ostend,--with a wound just under the shoulder, from which a bullet -had been extracted. - -The manner of the meeting had been in this wise. Captain Colepepper -and Laurence Fitzgibbon had held their meeting, and at this meeting -Laurence had taken certain standing-ground on behalf of his friend, -and in obedience to his friend's positive instruction;--which was -this, that his friend could not abandon his right of addressing the -young lady, should he hereafter ever think fit to do so. Let that -be granted, and Laurence would do anything. But then that could not -be granted, and Laurence could only shrug his shoulders. Nor would -Laurence admit that his friend had been false. "The question lies in -a nutshell," said Laurence, with that sweet Connaught brogue which -always came to him when he desired to be effective;--"here it is. One -gentleman tells another that he's sweet upon a young lady, but that -the young lady has refused him, and always will refuse him, for ever -and ever. That's the truth anyhow. Is the second gentleman bound by -that not to address the young lady? I say he is not bound. It'd be a -d----d hard tratement, Captain Colepepper, if a man's mouth and all -the ardent affections of his heart were to be stopped in that manner! -By Jases, I don't know who'd like to be the friend of any man if -that's to be the way of it." - -Captain Colepepper was not very good at an argument. "I think they'd -better see each other," said Colepepper, pulling his thick grey -moustache. - -"If you choose to have it so, so be it. But I think it the hardest -thing in the world;--I do indeed." Then they put their heads together -in the most friendly way, and declared that the affair should, if -possible, be kept private. - -On the Thursday night Lord Chiltern and Captain Colepepper went over -by Calais and Lille to Bruges. Laurence Fitzgibbon, with his friend -Dr. O'Shaughnessy, crossed by the direct boat from Dover to Ostend. -Phineas went to Ostend by Dover and Calais, but he took the day -route on Friday. It had all been arranged among them, so that there -might be no suspicion as to the job in hand. Even O'Shaughnessy and -Laurence Fitzgibbon had left London by separate trains. They met on -the sands at Blankenberg about nine o'clock on the Saturday morning, -having reached that village in different vehicles from Ostend and -Bruges, and had met quite unobserved amidst the sand-heaps. But one -shot had been exchanged, and Phineas had been wounded in the right -shoulder. He had proposed to exchange another shot with his left -hand, declaring his capability of shooting quite as well with the -left as with the right; but to this both Colepepper and Fitzgibbon -had objected. Lord Chiltern had offered to shake hands with his late -friend in a true spirit of friendship, if only his late friend would -say that he did not intend to prosecute his suit with the young lady. -In all these disputes the young lady's name was never mentioned. -Phineas indeed had not once named Violet to Fitzgibbon, speaking of -her always as the lady in question; and though Laurence correctly -surmised the identity of the young lady, he never hinted that he had -even guessed her name. I doubt whether Lord Chiltern had been so wary -when alone with Captain Colepepper; but then Lord Chiltern was, when -he spoke at all, a very plain-spoken man. Of course his lordship's -late friend Phineas would give no such pledge, and therefore Lord -Chiltern moved off the ground and back to Blankenberg and Bruges, and -into Brussels, in still living enmity with our hero. Laurence and the -doctor took Phineas back to Ostend, and though the bullet was then in -his shoulder, Phineas made his way through Blankenberg after such a -fashion that no one there knew what had occurred. Not a living soul, -except the five concerned, was at that time aware that a duel had -been fought among the sand-hills. - -Laurence Fitzgibbon made his way to Dover by the Saturday night's -boat, and was able to show himself in Portman Square on the Sunday. -"Know anything about Phinny Finn?" he said afterwards to Barrington -Erle, in answer to an inquiry from that anxious gentleman. "Not -a word! I think you'd better send the town-crier round after -him." Barrington, however, did not feel quite so well assured of -Fitzgibbon's truth as Lady Laura had done. - -Dr. O'Shaughnessy remained during the Sunday and Monday at Ostend -with his patient, and the people at the inn only knew that Mr. Finn -had sprained his shoulder badly; and on the Tuesday they came back -to London again, via Calais and Dover. No bone had been broken, and -Phineas, though his shoulder was very painful, bore the journey well. -O'Shaughnessy had received a telegram on the Monday, telling him that -the division would certainly take place on the Tuesday,--and on the -Tuesday, at about ten in the evening, Phineas went down to the House. -"By ----, you're here," said Ratler, taking hold of him with an -affection that was too warm. "Yes; I'm here," said Phineas, wincing -in agony; "but be a little careful, there's a good fellow. I've been -down in Kent and put my arm out." - -"Put your arm out, have you?" said Ratler, observing the sling for -the first time. "I'm sorry for that. But you'll stop and vote?" - -"Yes;--I'll stop and vote. I've come up for the purpose. But I hope -it won't be very late." - -"There are both Daubeny and Gresham to speak yet, and at least three -others. I don't suppose it will be much before three. But you're -all right now. You can go down and smoke if you like!" In this way -Phineas Finn spoke in the debate, and heard the end of it, voting for -his party, and fought his duel with Lord Chiltern in the middle of -it. - -He did go and sit on a well-cushioned bench in the smoking-room, and -then was interrogated by many of his friends as to his mysterious -absence. He had, he said, been down in Kent, and had had an accident -with his arm, by which he had been confined. When this questioner and -that perceived that there was some little mystery in the matter, the -questioners did not push their questions, but simply entertained -their own surmises. One indiscreet questioner, however, did trouble -Phineas sorely, declaring that there must have been some affair in -which a woman had had a part, and asking after the young lady of -Kent. This indiscreet questioner was Laurence Fitzgibbon, who, as -Phineas thought, carried his spirit of intrigue a little too far. -Phineas stayed and voted, and then he went painfully home to his -lodgings. - -How singular would it be if this affair of the duel should pass away, -and no one be a bit the wiser but those four men who had been with -him on the sands at Blankenberg! Again he wondered at his own luck. -He had told himself that a duel with Lord Chiltern must create -a quarrel between him and Lord Chiltern's relations, and also -between him and Violet Effingham; that it must banish him from -his comfortable seat for Loughton, and ruin him in regard to his -political prospects. And now he had fought his duel, and was back in -town,--and the thing seemed to have been a thing of nothing. He had -not as yet seen Lady Laura or Violet, but he had no doubt but they -both were as much in the dark as other people. The day might arrive, -he thought, on which it would be pleasant for him to tell Violet -Effingham what had occurred, but that day had not come as yet. -Whither Lord Chiltern had gone, or what Lord Chiltern intended to -do, he had not any idea; but he imagined that he should soon hear -something of her brother from Lady Laura. That Lord Chiltern should -say a word to Lady Laura of what had occurred,--or to any other -person in the world,--he did not in the least suspect. There could -be no man more likely to be reticent in such matters than Lord -Chiltern,--or more sure to be guided by an almost exaggerated sense -of what honour required of him. Nor did he doubt the discretion of -his friend Fitzgibbon;--if only his friend might not damage the -secret by being too discreet. Of the silence of the doctor and the -captain he was by no means equally sure; but even though they should -gossip, the gossiping would take so long a time in oozing out and -becoming recognised information, as to have lost much of its power -for injuring him. Were Lady Laura to hear at this moment that he -had been over to Belgium, and had fought a duel with Lord Chiltern -respecting Violet, she would probably feel herself obliged to quarrel -with him; but no such obligation would rest on her, if in the course -of six or nine months she should gradually have become aware that -such an encounter had taken place. - -Lord Chiltern, during their interview at the rooms in Great -Marlborough Street, had said a word to him about the seat in -Parliament;--had expressed some opinion that as he, Phineas Finn, was -interfering with the views of the Standish family in regard to Miss -Effingham, he ought not to keep the Standish seat, which had been -conferred upon him in ignorance of any such intended interference. -Phineas, as he thought of this, could not remember Lord Chiltern's -words, but there was present to him an idea that such had been their -purport. Was he bound, in circumstances as they now existed, to give -up Loughton? He made up his mind that he was not so bound unless -Lord Chiltern should demand from him that he should do so; but, -nevertheless, he was uneasy in his position. It was quite true that -the seat now was his for this session by all parliamentary law, even -though the electors themselves might wish to be rid of him, and that -Lord Brentford could not even open his mouth upon the matter in a -tone more loud than that of a whisper. But Phineas, feeling that -he had consented to accept the favour of a corrupt seat from Lord -Brentford, felt also that he was bound to give up the spoil if it -were demanded from him. If it were demanded from him, either by the -father or the son, it should be given up at once. - -On the following morning he found a leading article in the _People's -Banner_ devoted solely to himself. "During the late debate,"--so ran -a passage in the leading article,--"Mr. Finn, Lord Brentford's Irish -nominee for his pocket-borough at Loughton, did at last manage to -stand on his legs and open his mouth. If we are not mistaken, this -is Mr. Finn's third session in Parliament, and hitherto he has been -unable to articulate three sentences, though he has on more than one -occasion made the attempt. For what special merit this young man has -been selected for aristocratic patronage we do not know,--but that -there must be some merit recognisable by aristocratic eyes, we -surmise. Three years ago he was a raw young Irishman, living in -London as Irishmen only know how to live, earning nothing, and -apparently without means; and then suddenly he bursts out as a member -of Parliament and as the friend of Cabinet Ministers. The possession -of one good gift must be acceded to the honourable member for -Loughton,--he is a handsome young man, and looks to be as strong as -a coal-porter. Can it be that his promotion has sprung from this? Be -this as it may, we should like to know where he has been during his -late mysterious absence from Parliament, and in what way he came by -the wound in his arm. Even handsome young members of Parliament, -feted by titled ladies and their rich lords, are amenable to the -laws,--to the laws of this country, and to the laws of any other -which it may suit them to visit for a while!" - -"Infamous scoundrel!" said Phineas to himself, as he read this. -"Vile, low, disreputable blackguard!" It was clear enough, however, -that Quintus Slide had found out something of his secret. If so, his -only hope would rest on the fact that his friends were not likely to -see the columns of the _People's Banner_. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -Lady Laura Is Told - - -By the time that Mr. Mildmay's great bill was going into committee -Phineas was able to move about London in comfort,--with his arm, -however, still in a sling. There had been nothing more about him and -his wound in the _People's Banner_, and he was beginning to hope that -that nuisance would also be allowed to die away. He had seen Lady -Laura,--having dined in Grosvenor Place, where he had been petted -to his heart's content. His dinner had been cut up for him, and his -wound had been treated with the tenderest sympathy. And, singular to -say, no questions were asked. He had been to Kent and had come by -an accident. No more than that was told, and his dear sympathising -friends were content to receive so much information, and to ask for -no more. But he had not as yet seen Violet Effingham, and he was -beginning to think that this romance about Violet might as well be -brought to a close. He had not, however, as yet been able to go into -crowded rooms, and unless he went out to large parties he could not -be sure that he would meet Miss Effingham. - -At last he resolved that he would tell Lady Laura the whole -truth,--not the truth about the duel, but the truth about Violet -Effingham, and ask for her assistance. When making this resolution, I -think that he must have forgotten much that he had learned of his -friend's character; and by making it, I think that he showed also -that he had not learned as much as his opportunities might have -taught him. He knew Lady Laura's obstinacy of purpose, he knew her -devotion to her brother, and he knew also how desirous she had been -that her brother should win Violet Effingham for himself. This -knowledge should, I think, have sufficed to show him how improbable -it was that Lady Laura should assist him in his enterprise. But -beyond all this was the fact,--a fact as to the consequences of which -Phineas himself was entirely blind, beautifully ignorant,--that Lady -Laura had once condescended to love himself. Nay;--she had gone -farther than this, and had ventured to tell him, even after her -marriage, that the remembrance of some feeling that had once dwelt in -her heart in regard to him was still a danger to her. She had warned -him from Loughlinter, and then had received him in London;--and now -he selected her as his confidante in this love affair! Had he not -been beautifully ignorant and most modestly blind, he would surely -have placed his confidence elsewhere. - -It was not that Lady Laura Kennedy ever confessed to herself the -existence of a vicious passion. She had, indeed, learned to tell -herself that she could not love her husband; and once, in the -excitement of such silent announcements to herself, she had asked -herself whether her heart was quite a blank, and had answered herself -by desiring Phineas Finn to absent himself from Loughlinter. During -all the subsequent winter she had scourged herself inwardly for her -own imprudence, her quite unnecessary folly in so doing. What! could -not she, Laura Standish, who from her earliest years of girlish -womanhood had resolved that she would use the world as men use it, -and not as women do,--could not she have felt the slight shock of -a passing tenderness for a handsome youth without allowing the -feeling to be a rock before her big enough and sharp enough for the -destruction of her entire barque? Could not she command, if not her -heart, at any rate her mind, so that she might safely assure herself -that, whether this man or any man was here or there, her course would -be unaltered? What though Phineas Finn had been in the same house -with her throughout all the winter, could not she have so lived with -him on terms of friendship, that every deed and word and look of her -friendship might have been open to her husband,--or open to all -the world? She could have done so. She told herself that that was -not,--need not have been her great calamity. Whether she could endure -the dull, monotonous control of her slow but imperious lord,--or -whether she must not rather tell him that it was not to be -endured,--that was her trouble. So she told herself, and again -admitted Phineas to her intimacy in London. But, nevertheless, -Phineas, had he not been beautifully ignorant and most blind to his -own achievements, would not have expected from Lady Laura Kennedy -assistance with Miss Violet Effingham. - -Phineas knew when to find Lady Laura alone, and he came upon her one -day at the favourable hour. The two first clauses of the bill had -been passed after twenty fights and endless divisions. Two points had -been settled, as to which, however, Mr. Gresham had been driven to -give way so far and to yield so much, that men declared that such -a bill as the Government could consent to call its own could never -be passed by that Parliament in that session. Immediately on his -entrance into her room Lady Laura began about the third clause. Would -the House let Mr. Gresham have his way about the--? Phineas stopped -her at once. "My dear friend," he said, "I have come to you in a -private trouble, and I want you to drop politics for half an hour. I -have come to you for help." - -"A private trouble, Mr. Finn! Is it serious?" - -"It is very serious,--but it is no trouble of the kind of which you -are thinking. But it is serious enough to take up every thought." - -"Can I help you?" - -"Indeed you can. Whether you will or no is a different thing." - -"I would help you in anything in my power, Mr. Finn. Do you not know -it?" - -"You have been very kind to me!" - -"And so would Mr. Kennedy." - -"Mr. Kennedy cannot help me here." - -"What is it, Mr. Finn?" - -"I suppose I may as well tell you at once,--in plain language, I do -not know how to put my story into words that shall fit it. I love -Violet Effingham. Will you help me to win her to be my wife?" - -"You love Violet Effingham!" said Lady Laura. And as she spoke the -look of her countenance towards him was so changed that he became at -once aware that from her no assistance might be expected. His eyes -were not opened in any degree to the second reason above given for -Lady Laura's opposition to his wishes, but he instantly perceived -that she would still cling to that destination of Violet's hand which -had for years past been the favourite scheme of her life. "Have you -not always known, Mr. Finn, what have been our hopes for Violet?" - -Phineas, though he had perceived his mistake, felt that he must go -on with his cause. Lady Laura must know his wishes sooner or later, -and it was as well that she should learn them in this way as in -any other. "Yes;--but I have known also, from your brother's own -lips,--and indeed from yours also, Lady Laura,--that Chiltern has -been three times refused by Miss Effingham." - -"What does that matter? Do men never ask more than three times?" - -"And must I be debarred for ever while he prosecutes a hopeless -suit?" - -"Yes;--you of all men." - -"Why so, Lady Laura?" - -"Because in this matter you have been his chosen friend,--and mine. -We have told you everything, trusting to you. We have believed in -your honour. We have thought that with you, at any rate, we were -safe." These words were very bitter to Phineas, and yet when he had -written his letter at Loughton, he had intended to be so perfectly -honest, chivalrously honest! Now Lady Laura spoke to him and looked -at him as though he had been most basely false--most untrue to that -noble friendship which had been lavished upon him by all her family. -He felt that he would become the prey of her most injurious thoughts -unless he could fully explain his ideas, and he felt, also, that the -circumstances did not admit of his explaining them. He could not take -up the argument on Violet's side, and show how unfair it would be to -her that she should be debarred from the homage due to her by any man -who really loved her, because Lord Chiltern chose to think that he -still had a claim,--or at any rate a chance. And Phineas knew well -of himself,--or thought that he knew well,--that he would not have -interfered had there been any chance for Lord Chiltern. Lord Chiltern -had himself told him more than once that there was no such chance. -How was he to explain all this to Lady Laura? "Mr. Finn," said Lady -Laura, "I can hardly believe this of you, even when you tell it me -yourself." - -"Listen to me, Lady Laura, for a moment." - -"Certainly, I will listen. But that you should come to me for -assistance! I cannot understand it. Men sometimes become harder than -stones." - -"I do not think that I am hard." Poor blind fool! He was still -thinking only of Violet, and of the accusation made against him that -he was untrue to his friendship for Lord Chiltern. Of that other -accusation which could not be expressed in open words he understood -nothing,--nothing at all as yet. - -"Hard and false,--capable of receiving no impression beyond the -outside husk of the heart." - -"Oh, Lady Laura, do not say that. If you could only know how true I -am in my affection for you all." - -"And how do you show it?--by coming in between Oswald and the only -means that are open to us of reconciling him to his father;--means -that have been explained to you exactly as though you had been one of -ourselves. Oswald has treated you as a brother in the matter, telling -you everything, and this is the way you would repay him for his -confidence!" - -"Can I help it, that I have learnt to love this girl?" - -"Yes, sir,--you can help it. What if she had been Oswald's -wife;--would you have loved her then? Do you speak of loving a woman -as if it were an affair of fate, over which you have no control? I -doubt whether your passions are so strong as that. You had better put -aside your love for Miss Effingham. I feel assured that it will never -hurt you." Then some remembrance of what had passed between him and -Lady Laura Standish near the falls of the Linter, when he first -visited Scotland, came across his mind. "Believe me," she said with a -smile, "this little wound in your heart will soon be cured." - -He stood silent before her, looking away from her, thinking over it -all. He certainly had believed himself to be violently in love with -Lady Laura, and yet when he had just now entered her drawing-room, he -had almost forgotten that there had been such a passage in his life. -And he had believed that she had forgotten it,--even though she -had counselled him not to come to Loughlinter within the last nine -months! He had been a boy then, and had not known himself;--but now -he was a man, and was proud of the intensity of his love. There came -upon him some passing throb of pain from his shoulder, reminding him -of the duel, and he was proud also of that. He had been willing to -risk everything,--life, prospects, and position,--sooner than abandon -the slight hope which was his of possessing Violet Effingham. And now -he was told that this wound in his heart would soon be cured, and -was told so by a woman to whom he had once sung a song of another -passion. It is very hard to answer a woman in such circumstances, -because her womanhood gives her so strong a ground of vantage! Lady -Laura might venture to throw in his teeth the fickleness of his -heart, but he could not in reply tell her that to change a love was -better than to marry without love,--that to be capable of such a -change showed no such inferiority of nature as did the capacity for -such a marriage. She could hit him with her argument; but he could -only remember his, and think how violent might be the blow he could -inflict,--if it were not that she were a woman, and therefore -guarded. "You will not help me then?" he said, when they had both -been silent for a while. - -"Help you? How should I help you?" - -"I wanted no other help than this,--that I might have had an -opportunity of meeting Violet here, and of getting from her some -answer." - -"Has the question then never been asked already?" said Lady Laura. -To this Phineas made no immediate reply. There was no reason why he -should show his whole hand to an adversary. "Why do you not go to -Lady Baldock's house?" continued Lady Laura. "You are admitted there. -You know Lady Baldock. Go and ask her to stand your friend with her -niece. See what she will say to you. As far as I understand these -matters, that is the fair, honourable, open way in which gentlemen -are wont to make their overtures." - -"I would make mine to none but to herself," said Phineas. - -"Then why have you made it to me, sir?" demanded Lady Laura. - -"I have come to you as I would to my sister." - -"Your sister? Psha! I am not your sister, Mr. Finn. Nor, were I so, -should I fail to remember that I have a dearer brother to whom my -faith is pledged. Look here. Within the last three weeks Oswald has -sacrificed everything to his father, because he was determined that -Mr. Kennedy should have the money which he thought was due to my -husband. He has enabled my father to do what he will with Saulsby. -Papa will never hurt him;--I know that. Hard as papa is with him, he -will never hurt Oswald's future position. Papa is too proud to do -that. Violet has heard what Oswald has done; and now that he has -nothing of his own to offer her for the future but his bare title, -now that he has given papa power to do what he will with the -property, I believe that she would accept him instantly. That is her -disposition." - -Phineas again paused a moment before he replied. "Let him try," he -said. - -"He is away,--in Brussels." - -"Send to him, and bid him return. I will be patient, Lady Laura. Let -him come and try, and I will bide my time. I confess that I have no -right to interfere with him if there be a chance for him. If there is -no chance, my right is as good as that of any other." - -There was something in this which made Lady Laura feel that she -could not maintain her hostility against this man on behalf of her -brother;--and yet she could not force herself to be other than -hostile to him. Her heart was sore, and it was he that had made -it sore. She had lectured herself, schooling herself with mental -sackcloth and ashes, rebuking herself with heaviest censures from day -to day, because she had found herself to be in danger of regarding -this man with a perilous love; and she had been constant in this -work of penance till she had been able to assure herself that the -sackcloth and ashes had done their work, and that the danger was -past. "I like him still and love him well," she had said to herself -with something almost of triumph, "but I have ceased to think of him -as one who might have been my lover." And yet she was now sick and -sore, almost beside herself with the agony of the wound, because this -man whom she had been able to throw aside from her heart had also -been able so to throw her aside. And she felt herself constrained to -rebuke him with what bitterest words she might use. She had felt it -easy to do this at first, on her brother's score. She had accused him -of treachery to his friendship,--both as to Oswald and as to herself. -On that she could say cutting words without subjecting herself to -suspicion even from herself. But now this power was taken away from -her, and still she wished to wound him. She desired to taunt him -with his old fickleness, and yet to subject herself to no imputation. -"Your right!" she said. "What gives you any right in the matter?" - -"Simply the right of a fair field, and no favour." - -"And yet you come to me for favour,--to me, because I am her friend. -You cannot win her yourself, and think I may help you! I do not -believe in your love for her. There! If there were no other reason, -and I could help you, I would not, because I think your heart is a -sham heart. She is pretty, and has money--" - -"Lady Laura!" - -"She is pretty, and has money, and is the fashion. I do not wonder -that you should wish to have her. But, Mr. Finn, I believe that -Oswald really loves her;--and that you do not. His nature is deeper -than yours." - -He understood it all now as he listened to the tone of her voice, and -looked into the lines of her face. There was written there plainly -enough that spretae injuria formae of which she herself was conscious, -but only conscious. Even his eyes, blind as he had been, were -opened,--and he knew that he had been a fool. - -"I am sorry that I came to you," he said. - -"It would have been better that you should not have done so," she -replied. - -"And yet perhaps it is well that there should be no misunderstanding -between us." - -"Of course I must tell my brother." - -He paused but for a moment, and then he answered her with a sharp -voice, "He has been told." - -"And who told him?" - -"I did. I wrote to him the moment that I knew my own mind. I owed it -to him to do so. But my letter missed him, and he only learned it the -other day." - -"Have you seen him since?" - -"Yes;--I have seen him." - -"And what did he say? How did he take it? Did he bear it from you -quietly?" - -"No, indeed;" and Phineas smiled as he spoke. - -"Tell me, Mr. Finn; what happened? What is to be done?" - -"Nothing is to be done. Everything has been done. I may as well -tell you all. I am sure that for the sake of me, as well as of your -brother, you will keep our secret. He required that I should either -give up my suit, or that I should,--fight him. As I could not comply -with the one request, I found myself bound to comply with the other." - -"And there has been a duel?" - -"Yes;--there has been a duel. We went over to Belgium, and it was -soon settled. He wounded me here in the arm." - -"Suppose you had killed him, Mr. Finn?" - -"That, Lady Laura, would have been a misfortune so terrible that I -was bound to prevent it." Then he paused again, regretting what he -had said. "You have surprised me, Lady Laura, into an answer that I -should not have made. I may be sure,--may I not,--that my words will -not go beyond yourself?" - -"Yes;--you may be sure of that." This she said plaintively, with a -tone of voice and demeanour of body altogether different from that -which she lately bore. Neither of them knew what was taking place -between them; but she was, in truth, gradually submitting herself -again to this man's influence. Though she rebuked him at every turn -for what he said, for what he had done, for what he proposed to do, -still she could not teach herself to despise him, or even to cease to -love him for any part of it. She knew it all now,--except that word -or two which had passed between Violet and Phineas in the rides of -Saulsby Park. But she suspected something even of that, feeling sure -that the only matter on which Phineas would say nothing would be -that of his own success,--if success there had been. "And so you and -Oswald have quarrelled, and there has been a duel. That is why you -were away?" - -"That is why I was away." - -"How wrong of you,--how very wrong! Had he been,--killed, how could -you have looked us in the face again?" - -"I could not have looked you in the face again." - -"But that is over now. And were you friends afterwards?" - -"No;--we did not part as friends. Having gone there to fight with -him,--most unwillingly,--I could not afterwards promise him that I -would give up Miss Effingham. You say she will accept him now. Let -him come and try." She had nothing further to say,--no other argument -to use. There was the soreness at her heart still present to her, -making her wretched, instigating her to hurt him if she knew how to -do so, in spite of her regard for him. But she felt that she was weak -and powerless. She had shot her arrows at him,--all but one,--and if -she used that, its poisoned point would wound herself far more surely -than it would touch him. "The duel was very silly," he said. "You -will not speak of it." - -"No; certainly not." - -"I am glad at least that I have told you everything." - -"I do not know why you should be glad. I cannot help you." - -"And you will say nothing to Violet?" - -"Everything that I can say in Oswald's favour. I will say nothing of -the duel; but beyond that you have no right to demand my secrecy with -her. Yes; you had better go, Mr. Finn, for I am hardly well. And -remember this,--If you can forget this little episode about Miss -Effingham, so will I forget it also; and so will Oswald. I can -promise for him." Then she smiled and gave him her hand, and he went. - -She rose from her chair as he left the room, and waited till she -heard the sound of the great door closing behind him before she again -sat down. Then, when he was gone,--when she was sure that he was no -longer there with her in the same house,--she laid her head down upon -the arm of the sofa, and burst into a flood of tears. She was no -longer angry with Phineas. There was no further longing in her heart -for revenge. She did not now desire to injure him, though she had -done so as long as he was with her. Nay,--she resolved instantly, -almost instinctively, that Lord Brentford must know nothing of all -this, lest the political prospects of the young member for Loughton -should be injured. To have rebuked him, to rebuke him again and -again, would be only fair,--would at least be womanly; but she -would protect him from all material injury as far as her power of -protection might avail. And why was she weeping now so bitterly? -Of course she asked herself, as she rubbed away the tears with her -hands,--Why should she weep? She was not weak enough to tell herself -that she was weeping for any injury that had been done to Oswald. -She got up suddenly from the sofa, and pushed away her hair from her -face, and pushed away the tears from her cheeks, and then clenched -her fists as she held them out at full length from her body, and -stood, looking up with her eyes fixed upon the wall. "Ass!" she -exclaimed. "Fool! Idiot! That I should not be able to crush it into -nothing and have done with it! Why should he not have her? After all, -he is better than Oswald. Oh,--is that you?" The door of the room had -been opened while she was standing thus, and her husband had entered. - -"Yes,--it is I. Is anything wrong?" - -"Very much is wrong." - -"What is it, Laura?" - -"You cannot help me." - -"If you are in trouble you should tell me what it is, and leave it to -me to try to help you." - -"Nonsense!" she said, shaking her head. - -"Laura, that is uncourteous,--not to say undutiful also." - -"I suppose it was,--both. I beg your pardon, but I could not help -it." - -"Laura, you should help such words to me." - -"There are moments, Robert, when even a married woman must be -herself rather than her husband's wife. It is so, though you cannot -understand it." - -"I certainly do not understand it." - -"You cannot make a woman subject to you as a dog is so. You may have -all the outside and as much of the inside as you can master. With a -dog you may be sure of both." - -"I suppose this means that you have secrets in which I am not to -share." - -"I have troubles about my father and my brother which you cannot -share. My brother is a ruined man." - -"Who ruined him?" - -"I will not talk about it any more. I will not speak to you of him or -of papa. I only want you to understand that there is a subject which -must be secret to myself, and on which I may be allowed to shed -tears,--if I am so weak. I will not trouble you on a matter in which -I have not your sympathy." Then she left him, standing in the middle -of the room, depressed by what had occurred,--but not thinking of it -as of a trouble which would do more than make him uncomfortable for -that day. - - - - -CHAPTER XL - -Madame Max Goesler - - -Day after day, and clause after clause, the bill was fought in -committee, and few men fought with more constancy on the side of the -Ministers than did the member for Loughton. Troubled though he was by -his quarrel with Lord Chiltern, by his love for Violet Effingham, by -the silence of his friend Lady Laura,--for since he had told her of -the duel she had become silent to him, never writing to him, and -hardly speaking to him when she met him in society,--nevertheless -Phineas was not so troubled but what he could work at his vocation. -Now, when he would find himself upon his legs in the House, he would -wonder at the hesitation which had lately troubled him so sorely. He -would sit sometimes and speculate upon that dimness of eye, upon that -tendency of things to go round, upon that obtrusive palpitation of -heart, which had afflicted him so seriously for so long a time. The -House now was no more to him than any other chamber, and the members -no more than other men. He guarded himself from orations, speaking -always very shortly,--because he believed that policy and good -judgment required that he should be short. But words were very easy -to him, and he would feel as though he could talk for ever. And there -quickly came to him a reputation for practical usefulness. He was a -man with strong opinions, who could yet be submissive. And no man -seemed to know how his reputation had come. He had made one good -speech after two or three failures. All who knew him, his whole -party, had been aware of his failure; and his one good speech had -been regarded by many as no very wonderful effort. But he was a man -who was pleasant to other men,--not combative, not self-asserting -beyond the point at which self-assertion ceases to be a necessity of -manliness. Nature had been very good to him, making him comely inside -and out,--and with this comeliness he had crept into popularity. - -The secret of the duel was, I think, at this time, known to a great -many men and women. So Phineas perceived; but it was not, he thought, -known either to Lord Brentford or to Violet Effingham. And in this -he was right. No rumour of it had yet reached the ears of either of -these persons;--and rumour, though she flies so fast and so far, is -often slow in reaching those ears which would be most interested in -her tidings. Some dim report of the duel reached even Mr. Kennedy, -and he asked his wife. "Who told you?" said she, sharply. - -"Bonteen told me that it was certainly so." - -"Mr. Bonteen always knows more than anybody else about everything -except his own business." - -"Then it is not true?" - -Lady Laura paused,--and then she lied. "Of course it is not true. I -should be very sorry to ask either of them, but to me it seems to be -the most improbable thing in life." Then Mr. Kennedy believed that -there had been no duel. In his wife's word he put absolute faith, and -he thought that she would certainly know anything that her brother -had done. As he was a man given to but little discourse, he asked no -further questions about the duel either in the House or at the Clubs. - -At first, Phineas had been greatly dismayed when men had asked -him questions tending to elicit from him some explanation of the -mystery;--but by degrees he became used to it, and as the tidings -which had got abroad did not seem to injure him, and as the -questionings were not pushed very closely, he became indifferent. -There came out another article in the _People's Banner_ in which Lord -C----n and Mr. P----s F----n were spoken of as glaring examples of -that aristocratic snobility,--that was the expressive word coined, -evidently with great delight, for the occasion,--which the rotten -state of London society in high quarters now produced. Here was -a young lord, infamously notorious, quarrelling with one of his -boon-companions, whom he had appointed to a private seat in the -House of Commons, fighting duels, breaking the laws, scandalising -the public,--and all this was done without punishment to the guilty! -There were old stories afloat,--so said the article--of what in a -former century had been done by Lord Mohuns and Mr. Bests; but now, -in 186--, &c. &c. &c. And so the article went on. Any reader may fill -in without difficulty the concluding indignation and virtuous appeal -for reform in social morals as well as Parliament. But Phineas had so -far progressed that he had almost come to like this kind of thing. - -Certainly I think that the duel did him no harm in society. Otherwise -he would hardly have been asked to a semi-political dinner at Lady -Glencora Palliser's, even though he might have been invited to make -one of the five hundred guests who were crowded into her saloons -and staircases after the dinner was over. To have been one of the -five hundred was nothing; but to be one of the sixteen was a great -deal,--was indeed so much that Phineas, not understanding as yet the -advantage of his own comeliness, was at a loss to conceive why so -pleasant an honour was conferred upon him. There was no man among the -eight men at the dinner-party not in Parliament,--and the only other -except Phineas not attached to the Government was Mr. Palliser's -great friend, John Grey, the member for Silverbridge. There were four -Cabinet Ministers in the room,--the Duke, Lord Cantrip, Mr. Gresham, -and the owner of the mansion. There was also Barrington Erle and -young Lord Fawn, an Under-Secretary of State. But the wit and grace -of the ladies present lent more of character to the party than even -the position of the men. Lady Glencora Palliser herself was a host. -There was no woman then in London better able to talk to a dozen -people on a dozen subjects; and then, moreover, she was still in -the flush of her beauty and the bloom of her youth. Lady Laura was -there;--by what means divided from her husband Phineas could not -imagine; but Lady Glencora was good at such divisions. Lady Cantrip -had been allowed to come with her lord;--but, as was well understood, -Lord Cantrip was not so manifestly a husband as was Mr. Kennedy. -There are men who cannot guard themselves from the assertion of -marital rights at most inappropriate moments. Now Lord Cantrip lived -with his wife most happily; yet you should pass hours with him and -her together, and hardly know that they knew each other. One of the -Duke's daughters was there,--but not the Duchess, who was known to be -heavy;--and there was the beauteous Marchioness of Hartletop. Violet -Effingham was in the room also,--giving Phineas a blow at the heart -as he saw her smile. Might it be that he could speak a word to her on -this occasion? Mr. Grey had also brought his wife;--and then there -was Madame Max Goesler. Phineas found that it was his fortune to take -down to dinner,--not Violet Effingham, but Madame Max Goesler. And, -when he was placed at dinner, on the other side of him there sat Lady -Hartletop, who addressed the few words which she spoke exclusively -to Mr. Palliser. There had been in former days matters difficult of -arrangement between those two; but I think that those old passages -had now been forgotten by them both. Phineas was, therefore, driven -to depend exclusively on Madame Max Goesler for conversation, and -he found that he was not called upon to cast his seed into barren -ground. - -Up to that moment he had never heard of Madame Max Goesler. Lady -Glencora, in introducing them, had pronounced the lady's name so -clearly that he had caught it with accuracy, but he could not surmise -whence she had come, or why she was there. She was a woman probably -something over thirty years of age. She had thick black hair, which -she wore in curls,--unlike anybody else in the world,--in curls which -hung down low beneath her face, covering, and perhaps intended to -cover, a certain thinness in her cheeks which would otherwise have -taken something from the charm of her countenance. Her eyes were -large, of a dark blue colour, and very bright,--and she used them in -a manner which is as yet hardly common with Englishwomen. She seemed -to intend that you should know that she employed them to conquer -you, looking as a knight may have looked in olden days who entered a -chamber with his sword drawn from the scabbard and in his hand. Her -forehead was broad and somewhat low. Her nose was not classically -beautiful, being broader at the nostrils than beauty required, and, -moreover, not perfectly straight in its line. Her lips were thin. -Her teeth, which she endeavoured to show as little as possible, were -perfect in form and colour. They who criticised her severely said, -however, that they were too large. Her chin was well formed, and -divided by a dimple which gave to her face a softness of grace which -would otherwise have been much missed. But perhaps her great beauty -was in the brilliant clearness of her dark complexion. You might -almost fancy that you could see into it so as to read the different -lines beneath the skin. She was somewhat tall, though by no means -tall to a fault, and was so thin as to be almost meagre in her -proportions. She always wore her dress close up to her neck, and -never showed the bareness of her arms. Though she was the only woman -so clad now present in the room, this singularity did not specially -strike one, because in other respects her apparel was so rich and -quaint as to make inattention to it impossible. The observer who did -not observe very closely would perceive that Madame Max Goesler's -dress was unlike the dress of other women, but seeing that it was -unlike in make, unlike in colour, and unlike in material, the -ordinary observer would not see also that it was unlike in form for -any other purpose than that of maintaining its general peculiarity -of character. In colour she was abundant, and yet the fabric of -her garment was always black. My pen may not dare to describe the -traceries of yellow and ruby silk which went in and out through -the black lace, across her bosom, and round her neck, and over her -shoulders, and along her arms, and down to the very ground at her -feet, robbing the black stuff of all its sombre solemnity, and -producing a brightness in which there was nothing gaudy. She wore -no vestige of crinoline, and hardly anything that could be called a -train. And the lace sleeves of her dress, with their bright traceries -of silk, were fitted close to her arms; and round her neck she wore -the smallest possible collar of lace, above which there was a short -chain of Roman gold with a ruby pendant. And she had rubies in her -ears, and a ruby brooch, and rubies in the bracelets on her arms. -Such, as regarded the outward woman, was Madame Max Goesler; and -Phineas, as he took his place by her side, thought that fortune for -the nonce had done well with him,--only that he should have liked it -so much better could he have been seated next to Violet Effingham! - -I have said that in the matter of conversation his morsel of seed was -not thrown into barren ground. I do not know that he can truly be -said to have produced even a morsel. The subjects were all mooted -by the lady, and so great was her fertility in discoursing that all -conversational grasses seemed to grow with her spontaneously. "Mr. -Finn," she said, "what would I not give to be a member of the British -Parliament at such a moment as this!" - -"Why at such a moment as this particularly?" - -"Because there is something to be done, which, let me tell you, -senator though you are, is not always the case with you." - -"My experience is short, but it sometimes seems to me that there is -too much to be done." - -"Too much of nothingness, Mr. Finn. Is not that the case? But now -there is a real fight in the lists. The one great drawback to the -life of women is that they cannot act in politics." - -"And which side would you take?" - -"What, here in England?" said Madame Max Goesler,--from which -expression, and from one or two others of a similar nature, Phineas -was led into a doubt whether the lady were a countrywoman of his -or not. "Indeed, it is hard to say. Politically I should want to -out-Turnbull Mr. Turnbull, to vote for everything that could be -voted for,--ballot, manhood suffrage, womanhood suffrage, unlimited -right of striking, tenant right, education of everybody, annual -parliaments, and the abolition of at least the bench of bishops." - -"That is a strong programme," said Phineas. - -"It is strong, Mr. Finn, but that's what I should like. I think, -however, that I should be tempted to feel a dastard security in the -conviction that I might advocate my views without any danger of -seeing them carried out. For, to tell you the truth, I don't at all -want to put down ladies and gentlemen." - -"You think that they would go with the bench of bishops?" - -"I don't want anything to go,--that is, as far as real life is -concerned. There's that dear good Bishop of Abingdon is the best -friend I have in the world,--and as for the Bishop of Dorchester, -I'd walk from here to there to hear him preach. And I'd sooner hem -aprons for them all myself than that they should want those pretty -decorations. But then, Mr. Finn, there is such a difference between -life and theory;--is there not?" - -"And it is so comfortable to have theories that one is not bound to -carry out," said Phineas. - -"Isn't it? Mr. Palliser, do you live up to your political theories?" -At this moment Mr. Palliser was sitting perfectly silent between Lady -Hartletop and the Duke's daughter, and he gave a little spring in his -chair as this sudden address was made to him. "Your House of Commons -theories, I mean, Mr. Palliser. Mr. Finn is saying that it is -very well to have far advanced ideas,--it does not matter how -far advanced,--because one is never called upon to act upon them -practically." - -"That is a dangerous doctrine, I think," said Mr. Palliser. - -"But pleasant,--so at least Mr. Finn says." - -"It is at least very common," said Phineas, not caring to protect -himself by a contradiction. - -"For myself," said Mr. Palliser gravely, "I think I may say that I -always am really anxious to carry into practice all those doctrines -of policy which I advocate in theory." - -During this conversation Lady Hartletop sat as though no word of it -reached her ears. She did not understand Madame Max Goesler, and by -no means loved her. Mr. Palliser, when he had made his little speech, -turned to the Duke's daughter and asked some question about the -conservatories at Longroyston. - -"I have called forth a word of wisdom," said Madame Max Goesler, -almost in a whisper. - -"Yes," said Phineas, "and taught a Cabinet Minister to believe that -I am a most unsound politician. You may have ruined my prospects for -life, Madame Max Goesler." - -"Let me hope not. As far as I can understand the way of things in -your Government, the aspirants to office succeed chiefly by making -themselves uncommonly unpleasant to those who are in power. If a man -can hit hard enough he is sure to be taken into the elysium of the -Treasury bench,--not that he may hit others, but that he may cease to -hit those who are there. I don't think men are chosen because they -are useful." - -"You are very severe upon us all." - -"Indeed, as far as I can see, one man is as useful as another. But -to put aside joking,--they tell me that you are sure to become a -minister." - -Phineas felt that he blushed. Could it be that people said of him -behind his back that he was a man likely to rise high in political -position? "Your informants are very kind," he replied awkwardly, -"but I do not know who they are. I shall never get up in the way you -describe,--that is, by abusing the men I support." - -After that Madame Max Goesler turned round to Mr. Grey, who was -sitting on the other side of her, and Phineas was left for a moment -in silence. He tried to say a word to Lady Hartletop, but Lady -Hartletop only bowed her head gracefully in recognition of the truth -of the statement he made. So he applied himself for a while to his -dinner. - -"What do you think of Miss Effingham?" said Madame Max Goesler, again -addressing him suddenly. - -"What do I think about her?" - -"You know her, I suppose." - -"Oh yes, I know her. She is closely connected with the Kennedys, who -are friends of mine." - -"So I have heard. They tell me that scores of men are raving about -her. Are you one of them?" - -"Oh yes;--I don't mind being one of sundry scores. There is nothing -particular in owning to that." - -"But you admire her?" - -"Of course I do," said Phineas. - -"Ah, I see you are joking. I do amazingly. They say women never do -admire women, but I most sincerely do admire Miss Effingham." - -"Is she a friend of yours?" - -"Oh no;--I must not dare to say so much as that. I was with her last -winter for a week at Matching, and of course I meet her about at -people's houses. She seems to me to be the most independent girl I -ever knew in my life. I do believe that nothing would make her marry -a man unless she loved him and honoured him, and I think it is so -very seldom that you can say that of a girl." - -"I believe so also," said Phineas. Then he paused a moment before he -continued to speak. "I cannot say that I know Miss Effingham very -intimately, but from what I have seen of her, I should think it very -probable that she may not marry at all." - -"Very probably," said Madame Max Goesler, who then again turned away -to Mr. Grey. - -Ten minutes after this, when the moment was just at hand in which the -ladies were to retreat, Madame Max Goesler again addressed Phineas, -looking very full into his face as she did so. "I wonder whether the -time will ever come, Mr. Finn, in which you will give me an account -of that day's journey to Blankenberg?" - -"To Blankenberg!" - -"Yes;--to Blankenberg. I am not asking for it now. But I shall look -for it some day." Then Lady Glencora rose from her seat, and Madame -Max Goesler went out with the others. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI - -Lord Fawn - - -What had Madame Max Goesler to do with his journey to Blankenberg? -thought Phineas, as he sat for a while in silence between Mr. -Palliser and Mr. Grey; and why should she, who was a perfect -stranger to him, have dared to ask him such a question? But as the -conversation round the table, after the ladies had gone, soon drifted -into politics and became general, Phineas, for a while, forgot Madame -Max Goesler and the Blankenberg journey, and listened to the eager -words of Cabinet Ministers, now and again uttering a word of his own, -and showing that he, too, was as eager as others. But the session -in Mr. Palliser's dining-room was not long, and Phineas soon found -himself making his way amidst a throng of coming guests into the -rooms above. His object was to meet Violet Effingham, but, failing -that, he would not be unwilling to say a few more words to Madame Max -Goesler. - -He first encountered Lady Laura, to whom he had not spoken as yet, -and, finding himself standing close to her for a while, he asked her -after his late neighbour. "Do tell me one thing, Lady Laura;--who is -Madame Max Goesler, and why have I never met her before?" - -"That will be two things, Mr. Finn; but I will answer both questions -as well as I can. You have not met her before, because she was in -Germany last spring and summer, and in the year before that you were -not about so much as you have been since. Still you must have seen -her, I think. She is the widow of an Austrian banker, and has lived -the greater part of her life at Vienna. She is very rich, and has a -small house in Park Lane, where she receives people so exclusively -that it has come to be thought an honour to be invited by Madame Max -Goesler. Her enemies say that her father was a German Jew, living in -England, in the employment of the Viennese bankers, and they say also -that she has been married a second time to an Austrian Count, to whom -she allows ever so much a year to stay away from her. But of all -this, nobody, I fancy, knows anything. What they do know is that -Madame Max Goesler spends seven or eight thousand a year, and that -she will give no man an opportunity of even asking her to marry him. -People used to be shy of her, but she goes almost everywhere now." - -"She has not been at Portman Square?" - -"Oh no; but then Lady Glencora is so much more advanced than we are! -After all, we are but humdrum people, as the world goes now." - -Then Phineas began to roam about the rooms, striving to find an -opportunity of engrossing five minutes of Miss Effingham's attention. -During the time that Lady Laura was giving him the history of Madame -Max Goesler his eyes had wandered round, and he had perceived that -Violet was standing in the further corner of a large lobby on to -which the stairs opened,--so situated, indeed, that she could hardly -escape, because of the increasing crowd, but on that very account -almost impossible to be reached. He could see, also, that she was -talking to Lord Fawn, an unmarried peer of something over thirty -years of age, with an unrivalled pair of whiskers, a small estate, -and a rising political reputation. Lord Fawn had been talking to -Violet through the whole dinner, and Phineas was beginning to think -that he should like to make another journey to Blankenberg, with the -object of meeting his lordship on the sands. When Lady Laura had done -speaking, his eyes were turned through a large open doorway towards -the spot on which his idol was standing. "It is of no use, my -friend," she said, touching his arm. "I wish I could make you know -that it is of no use, because then I think you would be happier." To -this Phineas made no answer, but went and roamed about the rooms. Why -should it be of no use? Would Violet Effingham marry any man merely -because he was a lord? - -Some half-hour after this he had succeeded in making his way up to -the place in which Violet was still standing, with Lord Fawn beside -her. "I have been making such a struggle to get to you," he said. - -"And now you are here, you will have to stay, for it is impossible to -get out," she answered. "Lord Fawn has made the attempt half-a-dozen -times, but has failed grievously." - -"I have been quite contented," said Lord Fawn;--"more than -contented." - -Phineas felt that he ought to give some special reason to Miss -Effingham to account for his efforts to reach her, but yet he had -nothing special to say. Had Lord Fawn not been there, he would -immediately have told her that he was waiting for an answer to the -question he had asked her in Saulsby Park, but he could hardly do -this in presence of the noble Under-Secretary of State. She received -him with her pleasant genial smile, looking exactly as she had looked -when he had parted from her on the morning after their ride. She did -not show any sign of anger, or even of indifference at his approach. -But still it was almost necessary that he should account for his -search of her. "I have so longed to hear from you how you got on at -Loughlinter," he said. - -"Yes,--yes; and I will tell you something of it some day, perhaps. -Why do you not come to Lady Baldock's?" - -"I did not even know that Lady Baldock was in town." - -"You ought to have known. Of course she is in town. Where did you -suppose I was living? Lord Fawn was there yesterday, and can tell you -that my aunt is quite blooming." - -"Lady Baldock is blooming," said Lord Fawn; "certainly -blooming;--that is, if evergreens may be said to bloom." - -"Evergreens do bloom, as well as spring plants, Lord Fawn. You come -and see her, Mr. Finn;--only you must bring a little money with you -for the Female Protestant Unmarried Women's Emigration Society. That -is my aunt's present hobby, as Lord Fawn knows to his cost." - -"I wish I may never spend half-a-sovereign worse." - -"But it is a perilous affair for me, as my aunt wants me to go out -as a sort of leading Protestant unmarried female emigrant pioneer -myself." - -"You don't mean that," said Lord Fawn, with much anxiety. - -"Of course you'll go," said Phineas. "I should, if I were you." - -"I am in doubt," said Violet. - -"It is such a grand prospect," said he. "Such an opening in life. So -much excitement, you know; and such a useful career." - -"As if there were not plenty of opening here for Miss Effingham," -said Lord Fawn, "and plenty of excitement." - -"Do you think there is?" said Violet. "You are much more civil than -Mr. Finn, I must say." Then Phineas began to hope that he need not be -afraid of Lord Fawn. "What a happy man you were at dinner!" continued -Violet, addressing herself to Phineas. - -"I thought Lord Fawn was the happy man." - -"You had Madame Max Goesler all to yourself for nearly two hours, and -I suppose there was not a creature in the room who did not envy you. -I don't doubt that ever so much interest was made with Lady Glencora -as to taking Madame Max down to dinner. Lord Fawn, I know, -intrigued." - -"Miss Effingham, really I must--contradict you." - -"And Barrington Erle begged for it as a particular favour. The Duke, -with a sigh, owned that it was impossible, because of his cumbrous -rank; and Mr. Gresham, when it was offered to him, declared that -he was fatigued with the business of the House, and not up to the -occasion. How much did she say to you; and what did she talk about?" - -"The ballot chiefly,--that, and manhood suffrage." - -"Ah! she said something more than that, I am sure. Madame Max Goesler -never lets any man go without entrancing him. If you have anything -near your heart, Mr. Finn, Madame Max Goesler touched it, I am sure." -Now Phineas had two things near his heart,--political promotion and -Violet Effingham,--and Madame Max Goesler had managed to touch them -both. She had asked him respecting his journey to Blankenberg, and -had touched him very nearly in reference to Miss Effingham. "You know -Madame Max Goesler, of course?" said Violet to Lord Fawn. - -"Oh yes, I know the lady;--that is, as well as other people do. No -one, I take it, knows much of her; and it seems to me that the world -is becoming tired of her. A mystery is good for nothing if it remains -always a mystery." - -"And it is good for nothing at all when it is found out," said -Violet. - -"And therefore it is that Madame Max Goesler is a bore," said Lord -Fawn. - -"You did not find her a bore?" said Violet. Then Phineas, choosing -to oppose Lord Fawn as well as he could on that matter, as on every -other, declared that he had found Madame Max Goesler most delightful. -"And beautiful,--is she not?" said Violet. - -"Beautiful!" exclaimed Lord Fawn. - -"I think her very beautiful," said Phineas. - -"So do I," said Violet. "And she is a dear ally of mine. We were a -week together last winter, and swore an undying friendship. She told -me ever so much about Mr. Goesler." - -"But she told you nothing of her second husband?" said Lord Fawn. - -"Now that you have run into scandal, I shall have done," said Violet. - -Half an hour after this, when Phineas was preparing to fight his way -out of the house, he was again close to Madame Max Goesler. He had -not found a single moment in which to ask Violet for an answer to his -old question, and was retiring from the field discomfited, but not -dispirited. Lord Fawn, he thought, was not a serious obstacle in his -way. Lady Laura had told him that there was no hope for him; but -then Lady Laura's mind on that subject was, he thought, prejudiced. -Violet Effingham certainly knew what were his wishes, and knowing -them, smiled on him and was gracious to him. Would she do so if his -pretensions were thoroughly objectionable to her? - -"I saw that you were successful this evening," said Madame Max -Goesler to him. - -"I was not aware of any success." - -"I call it great success to be able to make your way where you will -through such a crowd as there is here. You seem to me to be so stout -a cavalier that I shall ask you to find my servant, and bid him -get my carriage. Will you mind?" Phineas, of course, declared that -he would be delighted. "He is a German, and not in livery. But if -somebody will call out, he will hear. He is very sharp, and much more -attentive than your English footmen. An Englishman hardly ever makes -a good servant." - -"Is that a compliment to us Britons?" - -"No, certainly not. If a man is a servant, he should be clever enough -to be a good one." Phineas had now given the order for the carriage, -and, having returned, was standing with Madame Max Goesler in the -cloak-room. "After all, we are surely the most awkward people in -the world," she said. "You know Lord Fawn, who was talking to Miss -Effingham just now. You should have heard him trying to pay me a -compliment before dinner. It was like a donkey walking a minuet, and -yet they say he is a clever man and can make speeches." Could it be -possible that Madame Max Goesler's ears were so sharp that she had -heard the things which Lord Fawn had said of her? - -"He is a well-informed man," said Phineas. - -"For a lord, you mean," said Madame Max Goesler. "But he is an oaf, -is he not? And yet they say he is to marry that girl." - -"I do not think he will," said Phineas, stoutly. - -"I hope not, with all my heart; and I hope that somebody else -may,--unless somebody else should change his mind. Thank you; I am so -much obliged to you. Mind you come and call on me,--193, Park Lane. I -dare say you know the little cottage." Then he put Madame Max Goesler -into her carriage, and walked away to his club. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -Lady Baldock Does Not Send a Card to Phineas Finn - - -Lady Baldock's house in Berkeley Square was very stately,--a large -house with five front windows in a row, and a big door, and a huge -square hall, and a fat porter in a round-topped chair;--but it was -dingy and dull, and could not have been painted for the last ten -years, or furnished for the last twenty. Nevertheless, Lady Baldock -had "evenings," and people went to them,--though not such a crowd of -people as would go to the evenings of Lady Glencora. Now Mr. Phineas -Finn had not been asked to the evenings of Lady Baldock for the -present season, and the reason was after this wise. - -"Yes, Mr. Finn," Lady Baldock had said to her daughter, who, early in -the spring, was preparing the cards. "You may send one to Mr. Finn, -certainly." - -"I don't know that he is very nice," said Augusta Boreham, whose eyes -at Saulsby had been sharper perhaps than her mother's, and who had -her suspicions. - -But Lady Baldock did not like interference from her daughter. "Mr. -Finn, certainly," she continued. "They tell me that he is a very -rising young man, and he sits for Lord Brentford's borough. Of course -he is a Radical, but we cannot help that. All the rising young men -are Radicals now. I thought him very civil at Saulsby." - -"But, mamma--" - -"Well!" - -"Don't you think that he is a little free with Violet?" - -"What on earth do you mean, Augusta?" - -"Have you not fancied that he is--fond of her?" - -"Good gracious, no!" - -"I think he is. And I have sometimes fancied that she is fond of him, -too." - -"I don't believe a word of it, Augusta,--not a word. I should have -seen it if it was so. I am very sharp in seeing such things. They -never escape me. Even Violet would not be such a fool as that. Send -him a card, and if he comes I shall soon see." Miss Boreham quite -understood her mother, though she could never master her,--and the -card was prepared. Miss Boreham could never master her mother by her -own efforts; but it was, I think, by a little intrigue on her part -that Lady Baldock was mastered, and, indeed, altogether cowed, in -reference to our hero, and that this victory was gained on that very -afternoon in time to prevent the sending of the card. - -When the mother and daughter were at tea, before dinner, Lord Baldock -came into the room, and, after having been patted and petted and -praised by his mother, he took up all the cards out of a china bowl -and ran his eyes over them. "Lord Fawn!" he said, "the greatest ass -in all London! Lady Hartletop! you know she won't come." "I don't -see why she shouldn't come," said Lady Baldock;--"a mere country -clergyman's daughter!" "Julius Caesar Conway;--a great friend of mine, -and therefore he always blackballs my other friends at the club. Lord -Chiltern; I thought you were at daggers drawn with Chiltern." "They -say he is going to be reconciled to his father, Gustavus, and I do it -for Lord Brentford's sake. And he won't come, so it does not signify. -And I do believe that Violet has really refused him." "You are quite -right about his not coming," said Lord Baldock, continuing to read -the cards; "Chiltern certainly won't come. Count Sparrowsky;--I -wonder what you know about Sparrowsky that you should ask him here." -"He is asked about, Gustavus; he is indeed," pleaded Lady Baldock. "I -believe that Sparrowsky is a penniless adventurer. Mr. Monk; well, -he is a Cabinet Minister. Sir Gregory Greeswing; you mix your people -nicely at any rate. Sir Gregory Greeswing is the most old-fashioned -Tory in England." "Of course we are not political, Gustavus." -"Phineas Finn. They come alternately,--one and one. - -"Mr. Finn is asked everywhere, Gustavus." - -"I don't doubt it. They say he is a very good sort of fellow. They -say also that Violet has found that out as well as other people." - -"What do you mean, Gustavus?" - -"I mean that everybody is saying that this Phineas Finn is going to -set himself up in the world by marrying your niece. He is quite right -to try it on, if he has a chance." - -"I don't think he would be right at all," said Lady Baldock, with -much energy. "I think he would be wrong,--shamefully wrong. They say -he is the son of an Irish doctor, and that he hasn't a shilling in -the world." - -"That is just why he would be right. What is such a man to do, but to -marry money? He's a deuced good-looking fellow, too, and will be sure -to do it." - -"He should work for his money in the city, then, or somewhere there. -But I don't believe it, Gustavus; I don't, indeed." - -"Very well. I only tell you what I hear. The fact is that he and -Chiltern have already quarrelled about her. If I were to tell you -that they have been over to Holland together and fought a duel about -her, you wouldn't believe that." - -"Fought a duel about Violet! People don't fight duels now, and I -should not believe it." - -"Very well. Then send your card to Mr. Finn." And, so saying, Lord -Baldock left the room. - -Lady Baldock sat in silence for some time toasting her toes at the -fire, and Augusta Boreham sat by, waiting for orders. She felt pretty -nearly sure that new orders would be given if she did not herself -interfere. "You had better put by that card for the present, my -dear," said Lady Baldock at last. "I will make inquiries. I don't -believe a word of what Gustavus has said. I don't think that even -Violet is such a fool as that. But if rash and ill-natured people -have spoken of it, it may be as well to be careful." - -"It is always well to be careful;--is it not, mamma?" - -"Not but what I think it very improper that these things should be -said about a young woman; and as for the story of the duel, I don't -believe a word of it. It is absurd. I dare say that Gustavus invented -it at the moment, just to amuse himself." - -The card of course was not sent, and Lady Baldock at any rate put so -much faith in her son's story as to make her feel it to be her duty -to interrogate her niece on the subject. Lady Baldock at this period -of her life was certainly not free from fear of Violet Effingham. -In the numerous encounters which took place between them, the aunt -seldom gained that amount of victory which would have completely -satisfied her spirit. She longed to be dominant over her niece as she -was dominant over her daughter; and when she found that she missed -such supremacy, she longed to tell Violet to depart from out her -borders, and be no longer niece of hers. But had she ever done so, -Violet would have gone at the instant, and then terrible things would -have followed. There is a satisfaction in turning out of doors a -nephew or niece who is pecuniarily dependent, but when the youthful -relative is richly endowed, the satisfaction is much diminished. It -is the duty of a guardian, no doubt, to look after the ward; but if -this cannot be done, the ward's money should at least be held with as -close a fist as possible. But Lady Baldock, though she knew that she -would be sorely wounded, poked about on her old body with the sharp -lances of disobedience, and struck with the cruel swords of satire, -if she took upon herself to scold or even to question Violet, -nevertheless would not abandon the pleasure of lecturing and -teaching. "It is my duty," she would say to herself, "and though it -be taken in a bad spirit, I will always perform my duty." So she -performed her duty, and asked Violet Effingham some few questions -respecting Phineas Finn. "My dear," she said, "do you remember -meeting a Mr. Finn at Saulsby?" - -"A Mr. Finn, aunt! Why, he is a particular friend of mine. Of course -I do, and he was at Saulsby. I have met him there more than once. -Don't you remember that we were riding about together?" - -"I remember that he was there, certainly; but I did not know that he -was a special--friend." - -"Most especial, aunt. A 1, I may say;--among young men, I mean." - -Lady Baldock was certainly the most indiscreet of old women in such a -matter as this, and Violet the most provoking of young ladies. Lady -Baldock, believing that there was something to fear,--as, indeed, -there was, much to fear,--should have been content to destroy the -card, and to keep the young lady away from the young gentleman, -if such keeping away was possible to her. But Miss Effingham was -certainly very wrong to speak of any young man as being A 1. Fond as -I am of Miss Effingham, I cannot justify her, and must acknowledge -that she used the most offensive phrase she could find, on purpose to -annoy her aunt. - -"Violet," said Lady Baldock, bridling up, "I never heard such a word -before from the lips of a young lady." - -"Not as A 1? I thought it simply meant very good." - -"A 1 is a nobleman," said Lady Baldock. - -"No, aunt;--A 1 is a ship,--a ship that is very good," said Violet. - -"And do you mean to say that Mr. Finn is,--is,--is,--very good?" - -"Yes, indeed. You ask Lord Brentford, and Mr. Kennedy. You know he -saved poor Mr. Kennedy from being throttled in the streets." - -"That has nothing to do with it. A policeman might have done that." - -"Then he would have been A 1 of policemen,--though A 1 does not mean -a policeman." - -"He would have done his duty, and so perhaps did Mr. Finn." - -"Of course he did, aunt. It couldn't have been his duty to stand -by and see Mr. Kennedy throttled. And he nearly killed one of the -men, and took the other prisoner with his own hands. And he made a -beautiful speech the other day. I read every word of it. I am so glad -he's a Liberal. I do like young men to be Liberals." Now Lord Baldock -was a Tory, as had been all the Lord Baldocks,--since the first who -had been bought over from the Whigs in the time of George III at the -cost of a barony. - -"You have nothing to do with politics, Violet." - -"Why shouldn't I have something to do with politics, aunt?" - -"And I must tell you that your name is being very unpleasantly -mentioned in connection with that of this young man because of your -indiscretion." - -"What indiscretion?" Violet, as she made her demand for a more direct -accusation, stood quite upright before her aunt, looking the old -woman full in the face,--almost with her arms akimbo. - -"Calling him A 1, Violet." - -"People have been talking about me and Mr. Finn, because I just now, -at this very moment, called him A 1 to you! If you want to scold me -about anything, aunt, do find out something less ridiculous than -that." - -"It was most improper language,--and if you used it to me, I am sure -you would to others." - -"To what others?" - -"To Mr. Finn,--and those sort of people." - -"Call Mr. Finn A 1 to his face! Well,--upon my honour I don't know -why I should not. Lord Chiltern says he rides beautifully, and if we -were talking about riding I might do so." - -"You have no business to talk to Lord Chiltern about Mr. Finn at -all." - -"Have I not? I thought that perhaps the one sin might palliate -the other. You know, aunt, no young lady, let her be ever so -ill-disposed, can marry two objectionable young men,--at the same -time." - -"I said nothing about your marrying Mr. Finn." - -"Then, aunt, what did you mean?" - -"I meant that you should not allow yourself to be talked of with an -adventurer, a young man without a shilling, a person who has come -from nobody knows where in the bogs of Ireland." - -"But you used to ask him here." - -"Yes,--as long as he knew his place. But I shall not do so again. And -I must beg you to be circumspect." - -"My dear aunt, we may as well understand each other. I will not be -circumspect, as you call it. And if Mr. Finn asked me to marry him -to-morrow, and if I liked him well enough, I would take him,--even -though he had been dug right out of a bog. Not only because I liked -him,--mind! If I were unfortunate enough to like a man who was -nothing, I would refuse him in spite of my liking,--because he was -nothing. But this young man is not nothing. Mr. Finn is a fine -fellow, and if there were no other reason to prevent my marrying him -than his being the son of a doctor, and coming out of the bogs, that -would not do so. Now I have made a clean breast to you as regards -Mr. Finn; and if you do not like what I've said, aunt, you must -acknowledge that you have brought it on yourself." - -Lady Baldock was left for a time speechless. But no card was sent to -Phineas Finn. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - -Promotion - - -Phineas got no card from Lady Baldock, but one morning he received -a note from Lord Brentford which was of more importance to him than -any card could have been. At this time, bit by bit, the Reform -Bill of the day had nearly made its way through the committee, but -had been so mutilated as to be almost impossible of recognition -by its progenitors. And there was still a clause or two as to -the rearrangement of seats, respecting which it was known that -there would be a combat,--probably combats,--carried on after the -internecine fashion. There was a certain clipping of counties to be -done, as to which it was said that Mr. Daubeny had declared that -he would not yield till he was made to do so by the brute force of -majorities;--and there was another clause for the drafting of certain -superfluous members from little boroughs, and bestowing them on -populous towns at which they were much wanted, respecting which -Mr. Turnbull had proclaimed that the clause as it now stood was a -faineant clause, capable of doing, and intended to do, no good in the -proper direction; a clause put into the bill to gull ignorant folk -who had not eyes enough to recognise the fact that it was faineant; a -make-believe clause,--so said Mr. Turnbull,--to be detested on that -account by every true reformer worse than the old Philistine bonds -and Tory figments of representation, as to which there was at least -no hypocritical pretence of popular fitness. Mr. Turnbull had been -very loud and very angry,--had talked much of demonstrations among -the people, and had almost threatened the House. The House in its -present mood did not fear any demonstrations,--but it did fear that -Mr. Turnbull might help Mr. Daubeny, and that Mr. Daubeny might help -Mr. Turnbull. It was now May,--the middle of May,--and ministers, who -had been at work on their Reform Bill ever since the beginning of the -session, were becoming weary of it. And then, should these odious -clauses escape the threatened Turnbull-Daubeny alliance,--then there -was the House of Lords! "What a pity we can't pass our bills at the -Treasury, and have done with them!" said Laurence Fitzgibbon. "Yes, -indeed," replied Mr. Ratler. "For myself, I was never so tired of a -session in my life. I wouldn't go through it again to be made,--no, -not to be made Chancellor of the Exchequer." - -Lord Brentford's note to Phineas Finn was as follows:-- - - - House of Lords, 16th May, 186--. - - MY DEAR MR. FINN, - - You are no doubt aware that Lord Bosanquet's death has - taken Mr. Mottram into the Upper House, and that as - he was Under-Secretary for the Colonies, and as the - Under-Secretary must be in the Lower House, the vacancy - must be filled up. - - -The heart of Phineas Finn at this moment was almost in his mouth. Not -only to be selected for political employment, but to be selected at -once for an office so singularly desirable! Under-Secretaries, he -fancied, were paid two thousand a year. What would Mr. Low say now? -But his great triumph soon received a check. "Mr. Mildmay has spoken -to me on the subject," continued the letter, "and informs me that -he has offered the place at the colonies to his old supporter, Mr. -Laurence Fitzgibbon." Laurence Fitzgibbon! - - - I am inclined to think that he could not have done better, - as Mr. Fitzgibbon has shown great zeal for his party. This - will vacate the Irish seat at the Treasury Board, and I am - commissioned by Mr. Mildmay to offer it to you. Perhaps - you will do me the pleasure of calling on me to-morrow - between the hours of eleven and twelve. - - Yours very sincerely, - - BRENTFORD. - - -Phineas was himself surprised to find that his first feeling on -reading this letter was one of dissatisfaction. Here were his golden -hopes about to be realised,--hopes as to the realisation of which -he had been quite despondent twelve months ago,--and yet he was -uncomfortable because he was to be postponed to Laurence Fitzgibbon. -Had the new Under-Secretary been a man whom he had not known, whom he -had not learned to look down upon as inferior to himself, he would -not have minded it,--would have been full of joy at the promotion -proposed for himself. But Laurence Fitzgibbon was such a poor -creature, that the idea of filling a place from which Laurence had -risen was distasteful to him. "It seems to be all a matter of favour -and convenience," he said to himself, "without any reference to the -service." His triumph would have been so complete had Mr. Mildmay -allowed him to go into the higher place at one leap. Other men who -had made themselves useful had done so. In the first hour after -receiving Lord Brentford's letter, the idea of becoming a Lord of the -Treasury was almost displeasing to him. He had an idea that junior -lordships of the Treasury were generally bestowed on young members -whom it was convenient to secure, but who were not good at doing -anything. There was a moment in which he thought that he would refuse -to be made a junior lord. - -But during the night cooler reflections told him that he had been -very wrong. He had taken up politics with the express desire of -getting his foot upon a rung of the ladder of promotion, and now, in -his third session, he was about to be successful. Even as a junior -lord he would have a thousand a year; and how long might he have sat -in chambers, and have wandered about Lincoln's Inn, and have loitered -in the courts striving to look as though he had business, before he -would have earned a thousand a year! Even as a junior lord he could -make himself useful, and when once he should be known to be a good -working man, promotion would come to him. No ladder can be mounted -without labour; but this ladder was now open above his head, and he -already had his foot upon it. - -At half-past eleven he was with Lord Brentford, who received him -with the blandest smile and a pressure of the hand which was quite -cordial. "My dear Finn," he said, "this gives me the most sincere -pleasure,--the greatest pleasure in the world. Our connection -together at Loughton of course makes it doubly agreeable to me." - -"I cannot be too grateful to you, Lord Brentford." - -"No, no; no, no. It is all your own doing. When Mr. Mildmay asked -me whether I did not think you the most promising of the young -members on our side in your House, I certainly did say that I quite -concurred. But I should be taking too much on myself, I should be -acting dishonestly, if I were to allow you to imagine that it was my -proposition. Had he asked me to recommend, I should have named you; -that I say frankly. But he did not. He did not. Mr. Mildmay named you -himself. 'Do you think,' he said, 'that your friend Finn would join -us at the Treasury?' I told him that I did think so. 'And do you not -think,' said he, 'that it would be a useful appointment?' Then I -ventured to say that I had no doubt whatever on that point;--that I -knew you well enough to feel confident that you would lend a strength -to the Liberal Government. Then there were a few words said about -your seat, and I was commissioned to write to you. That was all." - -Phineas was grateful, but not too grateful, and bore himself very -well in the interview. He explained to Lord Brentford that of course -it was his object to serve the country,--and to be paid for his -services,--and that he considered himself to be very fortunate to be -selected so early in his career for parliamentary place. He would -endeavour to do his duty, and could safely say of himself that he did -not wish to eat the bread of idleness. As he made this assertion, he -thought of Laurence Fitzgibbon. Laurence Fitzgibbon had eaten the -bread of idleness, and yet he was promoted. But Phineas said nothing -to Lord Brentford about his idle friend. When he had made his little -speech he asked a question about the borough. - -"I have already ventured to write a letter to my agent at Loughton, -telling him that you have accepted office, and that you will be -shortly there again. He will see Shortribs and arrange it. But if I -were you I should write to Shortribs and to Grating,--after I had -seen Mr. Mildmay. Of course you will not mention my name," And the -Earl looked very grave as he uttered this caution. - -"Of course I will not," said Phineas. - -"I do not think you'll find any difficulty about the seat," said the -peer. "There never has been any difficulty at Loughton yet. I must -say that for them. And if we can scrape through with Clause 72 we -shall be all right;--shall we not?" This was the clause as to which -so violent an opposition was expected from Mr. Turnbull,--a clause as -to which Phineas himself had felt that he would hardly know how to -support the Government, in the event of the committee being pressed -to a division upon it. Could he, an ardent reformer, a reformer -at heart,--could he say that such a borough as Loughton should be -spared;--that the arrangement by which Shortribs and Grating had sent -him to Parliament, in obedience to Lord Brentford's orders, was in -due accord with the theory of a representative legislature? In what -respect had Gatton and Old Sarum been worse than Loughton? Was he -not himself false to his principle in sitting for such a borough -as Loughton? He had spoken to Mr. Monk, and Mr. Monk had told him -that Rome was not built in a day,--and had told him also that good -things were most valued and were more valuable when they came by -instalments. But then Mr. Monk himself enjoyed the satisfaction of -sitting for a popular Constituency. He was not personally pricked -in the conscience by his own parliamentary position. Now, however, ---now that Phineas had consented to join the Government, any such -considerations as these must be laid aside. He could no longer be a -free agent, or even a free thinker. He had been quite aware of this, -and had taught himself to understand that members of Parliament in -the direct service of the Government were absolved from the necessity -of free-thinking. Individual free-thinking was incompatible with the -position of a member of the Government, and unless such abnegation -were practised, no government would be possible. It was of course a -man's duty to bind himself together with no other men but those with -whom, on matters of general policy, he could agree heartily;--but -having found that he could so agree, he knew that it would be his -duty as a subaltern to vote as he was directed. It would trouble his -conscience less to sit for Loughton and vote for an objectionable -clause as a member of the Government, than it would have done to give -such a vote as an independent member. In so resolving, he thought -that he was simply acting in accordance with the acknowledged rules -of parliamentary government. And therefore, when Lord Brentford spoke -of Clause 72, he could answer pleasantly, "I think we shall carry -it; and, you see, in getting it through committee, if we can carry -it by one, that is as good as a hundred. That's the comfort of -close-fighting in committee. In the open House we are almost as much -beaten by a narrow majority as by a vote against us." - -"Just so; just so," said Lord Brentford, delighted to see that his -young pupil,--as he regarded him,--understood so well the system of -parliamentary management. "By-the-bye, Finn, have you seen Chiltern -lately?" - -"Not quite lately," said Phineas, blushing up to his eyes. - -"Or heard from him?" - -"No;--nor heard from him. When last I heard of him he was in -Brussels." - -"Ah,--yes; he is somewhere on the Rhine now. I thought that as you -were so intimate, perhaps you corresponded with him. Have you heard -that we have arranged about Lady Laura's money?" - -"I have heard. Lady Laura has told me." - -"I wish he would return," said Lord Brentford sadly,--almost -solemnly. "As that great difficulty is over, I would receive him -willingly, and make my house pleasant to him, if I can do so. I am -most anxious that he should settle, and marry. Could you not write -to him?" Phineas, not daring to tell Lord Brentford that he had -quarrelled with Lord Chiltern,--feeling that if he did so everything -would go wrong,--said that he would write to Lord Chiltern. - -As he went away he felt that he was bound to get an answer from -Violet Effingham. If it should be necessary, he was willing to break -with Lord Brentford on that matter,--even though such breaking should -lose him his borough and his place;--but not on any other matter. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV - -Phineas and His Friends - - -Our hero's friends were, I think, almost more elated by our hero's -promotion than was our hero himself. He never told himself that it -was a great thing to be a junior lord of the Treasury, though he -acknowledged to himself that to have made a successful beginning -was a very great thing. But his friends were loud in their -congratulations,--or condolements as the case might be. - -He had his interview with Mr. Mildmay, and, after that, one of -his first steps was to inform Mrs. Bunce that he must change his -lodgings. "The truth is, Mrs. Bunce, not that I want anything better; -but that a better position will be advantageous to me, and that I -can afford to pay for it." Mrs. Bunce acknowledged the truth of the -argument, with her apron up to her eyes. "I've got to be so fond of -looking after you, Mr. Finn! I have indeed," said Mrs. Bunce. "It is -not just what you pays like, because another party will pay as much. -But we've got so used to you, Mr. Finn,--haven't we?" Mrs. Bunce was -probably not aware herself that the comeliness of her lodger had -pleased her feminine eye, and touched her feminine heart. Had anybody -said that Mrs. Bunce was in love with Phineas, the scandal would have -been monstrous. And yet it was so,--after a fashion. And Bunce knew -it,--after his fashion. "Don't be such an old fool," he said, "crying -after him because he's six foot high." "I ain't crying after him -because he's six foot high," whined the poor woman;--"but one does -like old faces better than new, and a gentleman about one's place -is pleasant." "Gentleman be d----d," said Bunce. But his anger was -excited, not by his wife's love for Phineas, but by the use of an -objectionable word. - -Bunce himself had been on very friendly terms with Phineas, and they -two had had many discussions on matters of politics, Bunce taking -up the cudgels always for Mr. Turnbull, and generally slipping away -gradually into some account of his own martyrdom. For he had been a -martyr, having failed in obtaining any redress against the policeman -who had imprisoned him so wrongfully. The _People's Banner_ -had fought for him manfully, and therefore there was a little -disagreement between him and Phineas on the subject of that great -organ of public opinion. And as Mr. Bunce thought that his lodger -was very wrong to sit for Lord Brentford's borough, subjects were -sometimes touched which were a little galling to Phineas. - -Touching this promotion, Bunce had nothing but condolement to offer -to the new junior lord. "Oh yes," said he, in answer to an argument -from Phineas, "I suppose there must be lords, as you call 'em; though -for the matter of that I can't see as they is of any mortal use." - -"Wouldn't you have the Government carried on?" - -"Government! Well; I suppose there must be government. But the less -of it the better. I'm not against government;--nor yet against laws, -Mr. Finn; though the less of them, too, the better. But what does -these lords do in the Government? Lords indeed! I'll tell you what -they do, Mr. Finn. They wotes; that's what they do! They wotes hard; -black or white, white or black. Ain't that true? When you're a -'lord,' will you be able to wote against Mr. Mildmay to save your -very soul?" - -"If it comes to be a question of soul-saving, Mr. Bunce, I shan't -save my place at the expense of my conscience." - -"Not if you knows it, you mean. But the worst of it is that a man -gets so thick into the mud that he don't know whether he's dirty or -clean. You'll have to wote as you're told, and of course you'll think -it's right enough. Ain't you been among Parliament gents long enough -to know that that's the way it goes?" - -"You think no honest man can be a member of the Government?" - -"I don't say that, but I think honesty's a deal easier away from 'em. -The fact is, Mr. Finn, it's all wrong with us yet, and will be till -we get it nigher to the great American model. If a poor man gets into -Parliament,--you'll excuse me, Mr. Finn, but I calls you a poor man." - -"Certainly,--as a member of Parliament I am a very poor man." - -"Just so,--and therefore what do you do? You goes and lays yourself -out for government! I'm not saying as how you're anyways wrong. A man -has to live. You has winning ways, and a good physiognomy of your -own, and are as big as a life-guardsman." Phineas as he heard this -doubtful praise laughed and blushed. "Very well; you makes your -way with the big wigs, lords and earls and them like, and you gets -returned for a rotten borough;--you'll excuse me, but that's about -it, ain't it?--and then you goes in for government! A man may have -a mission to govern, such as Washington and Cromwell and the like -o' them. But when I hears of Mr. Fitzgibbon a-governing, why then I -says,--d----n it all." - -"There must be good and bad you know." - -"We've got to change a deal yet, Mr. Finn, and we'll do it. When a -young man as has liberal feelings gets into Parliament, he shouldn't -be snapped up and brought into the governing business just because -he's poor and wants a salary. They don't do it that way in the -States; and they won't do it that way here long. It's the system as I -hates, and not you, Mr. Finn. Well, good-bye, sir. I hope you'll like -the governing business, and find it suits your health." - -These condolements from Mr. Bunce were not pleasant, but they set -him thinking. He felt assured that Bunce and Quintus Slide and Mr. -Turnbull were wrong. Bunce was ignorant. Quintus Slide was dishonest. -Turnbull was greedy of popularity. For himself, he thought that as a -young man he was fairly well informed. He knew that he meant to be -true in his vocation. And he was quite sure that the object nearest -to his heart in politics was not self-aggrandisement, but the welfare -of the people in general. And yet he could not but agree with Bunce -that there was something wrong. When such men as Laurence Fitzgibbon -were called upon to act as governors, was it not to be expected -that the ignorant but still intelligent Bunces of the population -should--"d----n it all"? - -On the evening of that day he went up to Mrs. Low's, very sure that -he should receive some encouragement from her and from her husband. -She had been angry with him because he had put himself into a -position in which money must be spent and none could be made. The -Lows, especially Mrs. Low, had refused to believe that any success -was within his reach. Now that he had succeeded, now that he was in -receipt of a salary on which he could live and save money, he would -be sure of sympathy from his old friends the Lows! - -But Mrs. Low was as severe upon him as Mr. Bunce had been, and -even from Mr. Low he could extract no real comfort. "Of course I -congratulate you," said Mr. Low coldly. - -"And you, Mrs. Low?" - -"Well, you know, Mr. Finn, I think you have begun at the wrong end. I -thought so before, and I think so still. I suppose I ought not to say -so to a Lord of the Treasury, but if you ask me, what can I do?" - -"Speak the truth out, of course." - -"Exactly. That's what I must do. Well, the truth is, Mr. Finn, that -I do not think it is a very good opening for a young man to be made -what they call a Lord of the Treasury,--unless he has got a private -fortune, you know, to support that kind of life." - -"You see, Phineas, a ministry is such an uncertain thing," said Mr. -Low. - -"Of course it's uncertain;--but as I did go into the House, it's -something to have succeeded." - -"If you call that success," said Mrs. Low. - -"You did intend to go on with your profession," said Mr. Low. He -could not tell them that he had changed his mind, and that he meant -to marry Violet Effingham, who would much prefer a parliamentary life -for her husband to that of a working barrister. "I suppose that is -all given up now," continued Mr. Low. - -"Just for the present," said Phineas. - -"Yes;--and for ever I fear," said Mrs. Low, "You'll never go back to -real work after frittering away your time as a Lord of the Treasury. -What sort of work must it be when just anybody can do it that it -suits them to lay hold of? But of course a thousand a year is -something, though a man may have it for only six months." - -It came out in the course of the evening that Mr. Low was going -to stand for the borough vacated by Mr. Mottram, at which it was -considered that the Conservatives might possibly prevail. "You see, -after all, Phineas," said Mr. Low, "that I am following your steps." - -"Ah; you are going into the House in the course of your profession." - -"Just so," said Mrs. Low. - -"And are taking the first step towards being a Tory -Attorney-General." - -"That's as may be," said Mr. Low. "But it's the kind of thing a man -does after twenty years of hard work. For myself, I really don't -care much whether I succeed or fail. I should like to live to be a -Vice-Chancellor. I don't mind saying as much as that to you. But I'm -not at all sure that Parliament is the best way to the Equity Bench." - -"But it is a grand thing to get into Parliament when you do it by -means of your profession," said Mrs. Low. - -Soon after that Phineas took his departure from the house, feeling -sore and unhappy. But on the next morning he was received in -Grosvenor Place with an amount of triumph which went far to -compensate him. Lady Laura had written to him to call there, and on -his arrival he found both Violet Effingham and Madame Max Goesler -with his friend. When Phineas entered the room his first feeling was -one of intense joy at seeing that Violet Effingham was present there. -Then there was one of surprise that Madame Max Goesler should make -one of the little party. Lady Laura had told him at Mr. Palliser's -dinner-party that they, in Portman Square, had not as yet advanced -far enough to receive Madame Max Goesler,--and yet here was the lady -in Mr. Kennedy's drawing-room. Now Phineas would have thought it more -likely that he should find her in Portman Square than in Grosvenor -Place. The truth was that Madame Goesler had been brought by Miss -Effingham,--with the consent, indeed, of Lady Laura, but with a -consent given with much of hesitation. "What are you afraid of?" -Violet had asked. "I am afraid of nothing," Lady Laura had answered; -"but one has to choose one's acquaintance in accordance with rules -which one doesn't lay down very strictly." "She is a clever woman," -said Violet, "and everybody likes her; but if you think Mr. Kennedy -would object, of course you are right." Then Lady Laura had -consented, telling herself that it was not necessary that she should -ask her husband's approval as to every new acquaintance she might -form. At the same time Violet had been told that Phineas would be -there, and so the party had been made up. - -"'See the conquering hero comes,' said Violet in her cheeriest voice. - -"I am so glad that Mr. Finn has been made a lord of something," -said Madame Max Goesler. "I had the pleasure of a long political -discussion with him the other night, and I quite approve of him." - -"We are so much gratified, Mr. Finn," said Lady Laura. "Mr. Kennedy -says that it is the best appointment they could have made, and papa -is quite proud about it." - -"You are Lord Brentford's member; are you not?" asked Madame Max -Goesler. This was a question which Phineas did not quite like, and -which he was obliged to excuse by remembering that the questioner had -lived so long out of England as to be probably ignorant of the myths, -and theories, and system, and working of the British Constitution. -Violet Effingham, little as she knew of politics, would never have -asked a question so imprudent. - -But the question was turned off, and Phineas, with an easy grace, -submitted himself to be petted, and congratulated, and purred -over, and almost caressed by the three ladies, Their good-natured -enthusiasm was at any rate better than the satire of Bunce, or the -wisdom of Mrs. Low. Lady Laura had no misgivings as to Phineas being -fit for governing, and Violet Effingham said nothing as to the -short-lived tenure of ministers. Madame Max Goesler, though she had -asked an indiscreet question, thoroughly appreciated the advantage -of Government pay, and the prestige of Government power. "You are a -lord now," she said, speaking, as was customary with her, with the -slightest possible foreign accent, "and you will be a president soon, -and then perhaps a secretary. The order of promotion seems odd, but I -am told it is very pleasant." - -"It is pleasant to succeed, of course," said Phineas, "let the -success be ever so little." - -"We knew you would succeed," said Lady Laura. "We were quite sure of -it. Were we not, Violet?" - -"You always said so, my dear. For myself I do not venture to have -an opinion on such matters. Will you always have to go to that big -building in the corner, Mr. Finn, and stay there from ten till four? -Won't that be a bore?" - -"We have a half-holiday on Saturday, you know," said Phineas. - -"And do the Lords of the Treasury have to take care of the money?" -asked Madame Max Goesler. - -"Only their own; and they generally fail in doing that," said -Phineas. - -He sat there for a considerable time, wondering whether Mr. Kennedy -would come in, and wondering also as to what Mr. Kennedy would say to -Madame Max Goesler when he did come in. He knew that it was useless -for him to expect any opportunity, then or there, of being alone for -a moment with Violet Effingham. His only chance in that direction -would be in some crowded room, at some ball at which he might ask her -to dance with him; but it seemed that fate was very unkind to him, -and that no such chance came in his way. Mr. Kennedy did not appear, -and Madame Max Goesler with Violet went away, leaving Phineas still -sitting with Lady Laura. Each of them said a kind word to him as -they went. "I don't know whether I may dare to expect that a Lord of -the Treasury will come and see me?" said Madame Max Goesler. Then -Phineas made a second promise that he would call in Park Lane. Violet -blushed as she remembered that she could not ask him to call at Lady -Baldock's. "Good-bye, Mr. Finn," she said, giving him her hand. -"I'm so very glad that they have chosen you; and I do hope that, as -Madame Max says, they'll make you a secretary and a president, and -everything else very quickly,--till it will come to your turn to -be making other people." "He is very nice," said Madame Goesler to -Violet as she took her place in the carriage. "He bears being petted -and spoilt without being either awkward or conceited." "On the whole, -he is rather nice," said Violet; "only he has not got a shilling in -the world, and has to make himself before he will be anybody." "He -must marry money, of course," said Madame Max Goesler. - -"I hope you are contented?" said Lady Laura, rising from her chair -and coming opposite to him as soon as they were alone. - -"Of course I am contented." - -"I was not,--when I first heard of it. Why did they promote that -empty-headed countryman of yours to a place for which he was quite -unfit? I was not contented. But then I am more ambitious for you than -you are for yourself." He sat without answering her for awhile, and -she stood waiting for his reply. "Have you nothing to say to me?" she -asked. - -"I do not know what to say. When I think of it all, I am lost in -amazement. You tell me that you are not contented;--that you are -ambitious for me. Why is it that you should feel any interest in the -matter?" - -"Is it not reasonable that we should be interested for our friends?" - -"But when you and I last parted here in this room you were hardly my -friend." - -"Was I not? You wrong me there;--very deeply." - -"I told you what was my ambition, and you resented it," said Phineas. - -"I think I said that I could not help you, and I think I said also -that I thought you would fail. I do not know that I showed much -resentment. You see, I told her that you were here, that she might -come and meet you. You know that I wished my brother should succeed. -I wished it before I ever knew you. You cannot expect that I should -change my wishes." - -"But if he cannot succeed," pleaded Phineas. - -"Who is to say that? Has a woman never been won by devotion and -perseverance? Besides, how can I wish to see you go on with a suit -which must sever you from my father, and injure your political -prospects;--perhaps fatally injure them? It seems to me now that my -father is almost the only man in London who has not heard of this -duel." - -"Of course he will hear of it. I have half made up my mind to tell -him myself." - -"Do not do that, Mr. Finn. There can be no reason for it. But I -did not ask you to come here to-day to talk to you about Oswald or -Violet. I have given you my advice about that, and I can do no more." - -"Lady Laura, I cannot take it. It is out of my power to take it." - -"Very well. The matter shall be what you members of Parliament call -an open question between us. When papa asked you to accept this place -at the Treasury, did it ever occur to you to refuse it?" - -"It did;--for half an hour or so." - -"I hoped you would,--and yet I knew that I was wrong. I thought that -you should count yourself to be worth more than that, and that you -should, as it were, assert yourself. But then it is so difficult -to draw the line between proper self-assertion and proper -self-denial;--to know how high to go up the table, and how low to -go down. I do not doubt that you have been right,--only make them -understand that you are not as other junior lords;--that you have -been willing to be a junior lord, or anything else for a purpose; -but that the purpose is something higher than that of fetching and -carrying in Parliament for Mr. Mildmay and Mr. Palliser." - -"I hope in time to get beyond fetching and carrying," said Phineas. - -"Of course you will; and knowing that, I am glad that you are in -office. I suppose there will be no difficulty about Loughton." - -Then Phineas laughed. "I hear," said he, "that Mr. Quintus Slide, -of the _People's Banner_, has already gone down to canvass the -electors." - -"Mr. Quintus Slide! To canvass the electors of Loughton!" and Lady -Laura drew herself up and spoke of this unseemly intrusion on her -father's borough, as though the vulgar man who had been named had -forced his way into the very drawing-room in Portman Square. At that -moment Mr. Kennedy came in. "Do you hear what Mr. Finn tells me?" she -said. "He has heard that Mr. Quintus Slide has gone down to Loughton -to stand against him." - -"And why not?" said Mr. Kennedy. - -"My dear!" ejaculated Lady Laura. - -"Mr. Quintus Slide will no doubt lose his time and his money;--but he -will gain the prestige of having stood for a borough, which will be -something for him on the staff of the _People's Banner_," said Mr. -Kennedy. - -"He will get that horrid man Vellum to propose him," said Lady Laura. - -"Very likely," said Mr. Kennedy. "And the less any of us say about -it the better. Finn, my dear fellow, I congratulate you heartily. -Nothing for a long time has given me greater pleasure than hearing -of your appointment. It is equally honourable to yourself and to Mr. -Mildmay. It is a great step to have gained so early." - -Phineas, as he thanked his friend, could not help asking himself what -his friend had done to be made a Cabinet Minister. Little as he, -Phineas, himself had done in the House in his two sessions and a -half, Mr. Kennedy had hardly done more in his fifteen or twenty. But -then Mr. Kennedy was possessed of almost miraculous wealth, and owned -half a county, whereas he, Phineas, owned almost nothing at all. -Of course no Prime Minister would offer a junior lordship at the -Treasury to a man with L30,000 a year. Soon after this Phineas took -his leave. "I think he will do well," said Mr. Kennedy to his wife. - -"I am sure he will do well," replied Lady Laura, almost scornfully. - -"He is not quite such a black swan with me as he is with you; but -still I think he will succeed, if he takes care of himself. It is -astonishing how that absurd story of his duel with Chiltern has got -about." - -"It is impossible to prevent people talking," said Lady Laura. - -"I suppose there was some quarrel, though neither of them will tell -you. They say it was about Miss Effingham. I should hardly think that -Finn could have any hopes in that direction." - -"Why should he not have hopes?" - -"Because he has neither position, nor money, nor birth," said Mr. -Kennedy. - -"He is a gentleman." said Lady Laura; "and I think he has position. I -do not see why he should not ask any girl to marry him." - -"There is no understanding you, Laura," said Mr. Kennedy, angrily. "I -thought you had quite other hopes about Miss Effingham." - -"So I have; but that has nothing to do with it. You spoke of Mr. Finn -as though he would be guilty of some crime were he to ask Violet -Effingham to be his wife. In that I disagree with you. Mr. Finn is--" - -"You will make me sick of the name of Mr. Finn." - -"I am sorry that I offend you by my gratitude to a man who saved your -life." Mr. Kennedy shook his head. He knew that the argument used -against him was false, but he did not know how to show that he knew -that it was false. "Perhaps I had better not mention his name any -more," continued Lady Laura. - -"Nonsense!" - -"I quite agree with you that it is nonsense, Robert." - -"All I mean to say is, that if you go on as you do, you will turn his -head and spoil him. Do you think I do not know what is going on among -you?" - -"And what is going on among us,--as you call it?" - -"You are taking this young man up and putting him on a pedestal and -worshipping him, just because he is well-looking, and rather clever -and decently behaved. It's always the way with women who have nothing -to do, and who cannot be made to understand that they should have -duties. They cannot live without some kind of idolatry." - -"Have I neglected my duty to you, Robert?" - -"Yes,--you know you have;--in going to those receptions at your -father's house on Sundays." - -"What has that to do with Mr. Finn?" - -"Psha!" - -"I begin to think I had better tell Mr. Finn not to come here any -more, since his presence is disagreeable to you. All the world knows -how great is the service he did you, and it will seem to be very -ridiculous. People will say all manner of things; but anything will -be better than that you should go on as you have done,--accusing your -wife of idolatry towards--a young man, because--he is--well-looking." - -"I never said anything of the kind." - -"You did, Robert." - -"I did not. I did not speak more of you than of a lot of others." - -"You accused me personally, saying that because of my idolatry I had -neglected my duty; but really you made such a jumble of it all, with -papa's visitors, and Sunday afternoons, that I cannot follow what was -in your mind." - -Then Mr. Kennedy stood for awhile, collecting his thoughts, so that -he might unravel the jumble, if that were possible to him; but -finding that it was not possible, he left the room, and closed the -door behind him. - -Then Lady Laura was left alone to consider the nature of the -accusation which her husband had brought against her; or the nature -rather of the accusation which she had chosen to assert that her -husband had implied. For in her heart she knew that he had made no -such accusation, and had intended to make none such. The idolatry of -which he had spoken was the idolatry which a woman might show to her -cat, her dog, her picture, her china, her furniture, her carriage and -horses, or her pet maid-servant. Such was the idolatry of which Mr. -Kennedy had spoken;--but was there no other worship in her heart, -worse, more pernicious than that, in reference to this young man? - -She had schooled herself about him very severely, and had come to -various resolutions. She had found out and confessed to herself that -she did not, and could not, love her husband. She had found out and -confessed to herself that she did love, and could not help loving, -Phineas Finn. Then she had resolved to banish him from her presence, -and had gone the length of telling him so. After that she had -perceived that she had been wrong, and had determined to meet him as -she met other men,--and to conquer her love. Then, when this could -not be done, when something almost like idolatry grew upon her, she -determined that it should be the idolatry of friendship, that she -would not sin even in thought, that there should be nothing in her -heart of which she need be ashamed;--but that the one great object -and purport of her life should be the promotion of this friend's -welfare. She had just begun to love after this fashion, had taught -herself to believe that she might combine something of the pleasure -of idolatry towards her friend with a full complement of duty towards -her husband, when Phineas came to her with his tale of love for -Violet Effingham. The lesson which she got then was a very rough -one,--so hard that at first she could not bear it. Her anger at his -love for her brother's wished-for bride was lost in her dismay that -Phineas should love any one after having once loved her. But by -sheer force of mind she had conquered that dismay, that feeling of -desolation at her heart, and had almost taught herself to hope that -Phineas might succeed with Violet. He wished it,--and why should he -not have what he wished,--he, whom she so fondly idolised? It was not -his fault that he and she were not man and wife. She had chosen to -arrange it otherwise, and was she not bound to assist him now in the -present object of his reasonable wishes? She had got over in her -heart that difficulty about her brother, but she could not quite -conquer the other difficulty. She could not bring herself to plead -his cause with Violet. She had not brought herself as yet to do it. - -And now she was accused of idolatry for Phineas by her husband,--she -with "a lot of others," in which lot Violet was of course included. -Would it not be better that they two should be brought together? -Would not her friend's husband still be her friend? Would she not -then forget to love him? Would she not then be safer than she was -now? - -As she sat alone struggling with her difficulties, she had not as yet -forgotten to love him,--nor was she as yet safe. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV - -Miss Effingham's Four Lovers - - -One morning early in June Lady Laura called at Lady Baldock's house -and asked for Miss Effingham. The servant was showing her into -the large drawing-room, when she again asked specially for Miss -Effingham. "I think Miss Effingham is there," said the man, opening -the door. Miss Effingham was not there. Lady Baldock was sitting -all alone, and Lady Laura perceived that she had been caught in -the net which she specially wished to avoid. Now Lady Baldock had -not actually or openly quarrelled with Lady Laura Kennedy or with -Lord Brentford, but she had conceived a strong idea that her niece -Violet was countenanced in all improprieties by the Standish family -generally, and that therefore the Standish family was to be regarded -as a family of enemies. There was doubtless in her mind considerable -confusion on the subject, for she did not know whether Lord Chiltern -or Mr. Finn was the suitor whom she most feared,--and she was aware, -after a sort of muddled fashion, that the claims of these two wicked -young men were antagonistic to each other. But they were both -regarded by her as emanations from the same source of iniquity, -and, therefore, without going deeply into the machinations of Lady -Laura,--without resolving whether Lady Laura was injuring her by -pressing her brother as a suitor upon Miss Effingham, or by pressing -a rival of her brother,--still she became aware that it was her duty -to turn a cold shoulder on those two houses in Portman Square and -Grosvenor Place. But her difficulties in doing this were very great, -and it may be said that Lady Baldock was placed in an unjust and -cruel position. Before the end of May she had proposed to leave -London, and to take her daughter and Violet down to Baddingham,--or -to Brighton, if they preferred it, or to Switzerland. "Brighton in -June!" Violet had exclaimed. "Would not a month among the glaciers be -delightful!" Miss Boreham had said. "Don't let me keep you in town, -aunt," Violet replied; "but I do not think I shall go till other -people go. I can have a room at Laura Kennedy's house." Then Lady -Baldock, whose position was hard and cruel, resolved that she would -stay in town. Here she had in her hands a ward over whom she had no -positive power, and yet in respect to whom her duty was imperative! -Her duty was imperative, and Lady Baldock was not the woman to -neglect her duty;--and yet she knew that the doing of her duty would -all be in vain. Violet would marry a shoe-black out of the streets if -she were so minded. It was of no use that the poor lady had provided -herself with two strings, two most excellent strings, to her -bow,--two strings either one of which should have contented Miss -Effingham. There was Lord Fawn, a young peer, not very rich -indeed,--but still with means sufficient for a wife, a rising -man, and in every way respectable, although a Whig. And there -was Mr. Appledom, one of the richest commoners in England, a -fine Conservative too, with a seat in the House, and everything -appropriate. He was fifty, but looked hardly more than thirty-five, -and was,--so at least Lady Baldock frequently asserted,--violently in -love with Violet Effingham. Why had not the law, or the executors, or -the Lord Chancellor, or some power levied for the protection of the -proprieties, made Violet absolutely subject to her guardian till she -should be made subject to a husband? - -"Yes, I think she is at home," said Lady Baldock, in answer to Lady -Laura's inquiry for Violet. "At least, I hardly know. She seldom -tells me what she means to do,--and sometimes she will walk out quite -alone!" A most imprudent old woman was Lady Baldock, always opening -her hand to her adversaries, unable to control herself in the -scolding of people, either before their faces or behind their backs, -even at moments in which such scolding was most injurious to her own -cause. "However, we will see," she continued. Then the bell was rung, -and in a few minutes Violet was in the room. In a few minutes more -they were up-stairs together in Violet's own room, in spite of the -openly-displayed wrath of Lady Baldock. "I almost wish she had never -been born," said Lady Baldock to her daughter. "Oh, mamma, don't -say that." "I certainly do wish that I had never seen her." "Indeed -she has been a grievous trouble to you, mamma," said Miss Boreham, -sympathetically. - -"Brighton! What nonsense!" said Lady Laura. - -"Of course it's nonsense. Fancy going to Brighton! And then they -have proposed Switzerland. If you could only hear Augusta talking in -rapture of a month among the glaciers! And I feel so ungrateful. I -believe they would spend three months with me at any horrible place -that I could suggest,--at Hong Kong if I were to ask it,--so intent -are they on taking me away from metropolitan danger." - -"But you will not go?" - -"No!--I won't go. I know I am very naughty; but I can't help feeling -that I cannot be good without being a fool at the same time. I must -either fight my aunt, or give way to her. If I were to yield, what a -life I should have;--and I should despise myself after all." - -"And what is the special danger to be feared now?" - -"I don't know;--you, I fancy. I told her that if she went, I should -go to you. I knew that would make her stay." - -"I wish you would come to me," said Lady Laura. - -"I shouldn't think of it really,--not for any length of time." - -"Why not?" - -"Because I should be in Mr. Kennedy's way." - -"You wouldn't be in his way in the least. If you would only be down -punctually for morning prayers, and go to church with him on Sunday -afternoon, he would be delighted to have you." - -"What did he say about Madame Max coming?" - -"Not a word. I don't think he quite knew who she was then. I fancy he -has inquired since, by something he said yesterday." - -"What did he say?" - -"Nothing that matters;--only a word. I haven't come here to talk -about Madame Max Goesler,--nor yet about Mr. Kennedy." - -"Whom have you come to talk about?" asked Violet, laughing a little, -with something of increased colour in her cheeks, though she could -not be said to blush. - -"A lover of course," said Lady Laura. - -"I wish you would leave me alone with my lovers. You are as bad or -worse than my aunt. She, at any rate, varies her prescription. She -has become sick of poor Lord Fawn because he's a Whig." - -"And who is her favourite now?" - -"Old Mr. Appledom,--who is really a most unexceptionable old party, -and whom I like of all things. I really think I could consent to be -Mrs. Appledom, to get rid of my troubles,--if he did not dye his -whiskers and have his coats padded." - -"He'd give up those little things if you asked him." - -"I shouldn't have the heart to do it. Besides, this isn't his time of -the year for making proposals. His love fever, which is of a very low -kind, and intermits annually, never comes on till the autumn. It is a -rural malady, against which he is proof while among his clubs!" - -"Well, Violet,--I am like your aunt." - -"Like Lady Baldock?" - -"In one respect. I, too, will vary my prescription." - -"What do you mean, Laura?" - -"Just this,--that if you like to marry Phineas Finn, I will say that -you are right." - -"Heaven and earth! And why am I to marry Phineas Finn?" - -"Only for two reasons; because he loves you, and because--" - -"No,--I deny it. I do not." - -"I had come to fancy that you did." - -"Keep your fancy more under control then. But upon my word I can't -understand this. He was your great friend." - -"What has that to do with it?" demanded Lady Laura. - -"And you have thrown over your brother, Laura?" - -"You have thrown him over. Is he to go on for ever asking and being -refused?" - -"I do not know why he should not," said Violet, "seeing how very -little trouble it gives him. Half an hour once in six months does it -all for him, allowing him time for coming and going in a cab." - -"Violet, I do not understand you. Have you refused Oswald so often -because he does not pass hours on his knees before you?" - -"No, indeed! His nature would be altered very much for the worse -before he could do that." - -"Why do you throw it in his teeth then that he does not give you more -of his time?" - -"Why have you come to tell me to marry Mr. Phineas Finn? That is what -I want to know. Mr. Phineas Finn, as far as I am aware, has not a -shilling in the world,--except a month's salary now due to him from -the Government. Mr. Phineas Finn I believe to be the son of a country -doctor in Ireland,--with about seven sisters. Mr. Phineas Finn is a -Roman Catholic. Mr. Phineas Finn is,--or was a short time ago,--in -love with another lady; and Mr. Phineas Finn is not so much in -love at this moment but what he is able to intrust his cause to an -ambassador. None short of a royal suitor should ever do that with -success." - -"Has he never pleaded his cause to you himself?" - -"My dear, I never tell gentlemen's secrets. It seems that if he has, -his success was so trifling that he has thought he had better trust -some one else for the future." - -"He has not trusted me. He has not given me any commission." - -"Then why have you come?" - -"Because,--I hardly know how to tell his story. There have been -things about Oswald which made it almost necessary that Mr. Finn -should explain himself to me." - -"I know it all;--about their fighting. Foolish young men! I am not -a bit obliged to either of them,--not a bit. Only fancy, if my aunt -knew it, what a life she would lead me! Gustavus knows all about it, -and I feel that I am living at his mercy. Why were they so -wrong-headed?" - -"I cannot answer that,--though I know them well enough to be sure -that Chiltern was the one in fault." - -"It is so odd that you should have thrown your brother over." - -"I have not thrown my brother over. Will you accept Oswald if he asks -you again?" - -"No," almost shouted Violet. - -"Then I hope that Mr. Finn may succeed. I want him to succeed in -everything. There;--you may know it all. He is my Phoebus Apollo." - -"That is flattering to me,--looking at the position in which you -desire to place your Phoebus at the present moment." - -"Come, Violet, I am true to you, and let me have a little truth from -you. This man loves you, and I think is worthy of you. He does not -love me, but he is my friend. As his friend, and believing in his -worth, I wish for his success beyond almost anything else in the -world. Listen to me, Violet. I don't believe in those reasons which -you gave me just now for not becoming this man's wife." - -"Nor do I." - -"I know you do not. Look at me. I, who have less of real heart than -you, I who thought that I could trust myself to satisfy my mind and -my ambition without caring for my heart, I have married for what you -call position. My husband is very rich, and a Cabinet Minister, and -will probably be a peer. And he was willing to marry me at a time -when I had not a shilling of my own." - -"He was very generous." - -"He has asked for it since," said Lady Laura. "But never mind. I have -not come to talk about myself;--otherwise than to bid you not do what -I have done. All that you have said about this man's want of money -and of family is nothing." - -"Nothing at all," said Violet. "Mere words,--fit only for such people -as my aunt." - -"Well then?" - -"Well?" - -"If you love him--!" - -"Ah! but if I do not? You are very close in inquiring into my -secrets. Tell me, Laura;--was not this young Crichton once a lover of -your own?" - -"Psha! And do you think I cannot keep a gentleman's secret as well as -you?" - -"What is the good of any secret, Laura, when we have been already so -open? He tried his 'prentice hand on you; and then he came to me. Let -us watch him, and see who'll be the third. I too like him well enough -to hope that he'll land himself safely at last." - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI - -The Mousetrap - - -Phineas had certainly no desire to make love by an ambassador,--at -second-hand. He had given no commission to Lady Laura, and was, as -the reader is aware, quite ignorant of what was being done and said -on his behalf. He had asked no more from Lady Laura than an -opportunity of speaking for himself, and that he had asked almost -with a conviction that by so asking he would turn his friend into an -enemy. He had read but little of the workings of Lady Laura's heart -towards himself, and had no idea of the assistance she was anxious to -give him. She had never told him that she was willing to sacrifice -her brother on his behalf, and, of course, had not told him that she -was willing also to sacrifice herself. Nor, when she wrote to him one -June morning and told him that Violet would be found in Portman -Square, alone, that afternoon,--naming an hour, and explaining that -Miss Effingham would be there to meet herself and her father, but -that at such an hour she would be certainly alone,--did he even then -know how much she was prepared to do for him. The short note was -signed "L.," and then there came a long postscript. "Ask for me," she -said in a postscript. "I shall be there later, and I have told them -to bid you wait. I can give you no hope of success, but if you choose -to try,--you can do so. If you do not come, I shall know that you -have changed your mind. I shall not think the worse of you, and your -secret will be safe with me. I do that which you have asked me to -do,--simply because you have asked it. Burn this at once,--because I -ask it." Phineas destroyed the note, tearing it into atoms, the -moment that he had read it and re-read it. Of course he would go to -Portman Square at the hour named. Of course he would take his chance. -He was not buoyed up by much of hope;--but even though there were no -hope, he would take his chance. - -When Lord Brentford had first told Phineas of his promotion, he had -also asked the new Lord of the Treasury to make a certain -communication on his behalf to his son. This Phineas had found -himself obliged to promise to do;--and he had done it. The letter had -been difficult enough to write,--but he had written it. After having -made the promise, he had found himself bound to keep it. - -"Dear Lord Chiltern," he had commenced, "I will not think that there -was anything in our late encounter to prevent my so addressing you. I -now write at the instance of your father, who has heard nothing of -our little affair." Then he explained at length Lord Brentford's -wishes as he understood them. "Pray come home," he said, finishing -his letter. "Touching V. E., I feel that I am bound to tell you that -I still mean to try my fortune, but that I have no ground for hoping -that my fortune will be good. Since the day on the sands, I have -never met her but in society. I know you will be glad to hear that my -wound was nothing; and I think you will be glad to hear that I have -got my foot on to the ladder of promotion.--Yours always, - -"PHINEAS FINN." - -Now he had to try his fortune,--that fortune of which he had told -Lord Chiltern that he had no reason for hoping that it would be good. -He went direct from his office at the Treasury to Portman Square, -resolving that he would take no trouble as to his dress, simply -washing his hands and brushing his hair as though he were going down -to the House, and he knocked at the Earl's door exactly at the hour -named by Lady Laura. - -"Miss Effingham," he said, "I am so glad to find you alone." - -"Yes," she said, laughing. "I am alone,--a poor unprotected female. -But I fear nothing. I have strong reason for believing that Lord -Brentford is somewhere about. And Pomfret the butler, who has known -me since I was a baby, is a host in himself." - -"With such allies you can have nothing to fear," he replied, -attempting to carry on her little jest. - -"Nor even without them, Mr. Finn. We unprotected females in these -days are so self-reliant that our natural protectors fall off from -us, finding themselves to be no longer wanted. Now with you,--what -can I fear?" - -"Nothing,--as I hope." - -"There used to be a time, and that not so long ago either, when young -gentlemen and ladies were thought to be very dangerous to each other -if they were left alone. But propriety is less rampant now, and upon -the whole virtue and morals, with discretion and all that kind of -thing, have been the gainers. Don't you think so?" - -"I am sure of it." - -"All the same, but I don't like to be caught in a trap, Mr. Finn." - -"In a trap?" - -"Yes;--in a trap. Is there no trap here? If you will say so, I will -acknowledge myself to be a dolt, and will beg your pardon." - -"I hardly know what you call a trap." - -"You were told that I was here?" - -He paused a moment before he replied. "Yes, I was told." - -"I call that a trap." - -"Am I to blame?" - -"I don't say that you set it,--but you use it." - -"Miss Effingham, of course I have used it. You must know,--I think -you must know that I have that to say to you which has made me long -for such an opportunity as this." - -"And therefore you have called in the assistance of your friend." - -"It is true." - -"In such matters you should never talk to any one, Mr. Finn. If you -cannot fight your own battle, no one can fight it for you." - -"Miss Effingham, do you remember our ride at Saulsby?" - -"Very well;--as if it were yesterday." - -"And do you remember that I asked you a question which you have never -answered?" - -"I did answer it,--as well as I knew how, so that I might tell you a -truth without hurting you." - -"It was necessary,--is necessary that I should be hurt sorely, or -made perfectly happy. Violet Effingham, I have come to you to ask you -to be my wife;--to tell you that I love you, and to ask for your love -in return. Whatever may be my fate, the question must be asked, and -an answer must be given. I have not hoped that you should tell me -that you loved me--" - -"For what then have you hoped?" - -"For not much, indeed;--but if for anything, then for some chance -that you might tell me so hereafter." - -"If I loved you, I would tell you so now,--instantly. I give you my -word of that." - -"Can you never love me?" - -"What is a woman to answer to such a question? No;--I believe never. -I do not think I shall ever wish you to be my husband. You ask me to -be plain, and I must be plain." - -"Is it because--?" He paused, hardly knowing what the question was -which he proposed to himself to ask. - -"It is for no because,--for no cause except that simple one which -should make any girl refuse any man whom she did not love. Mr. -Finn, I could say pleasant things to you on any other subject than -this,--because I like you." - -"I know that I have nothing to justify my suit." - -"You have everything to justify it;--at least I am bound to presume -that you have. If you love me,--you are justified." - -"You know that I love you." - -"I am sorry that it should ever have been so,--very sorry. I can only -hope that I have not been in fault." - -"Will you try to love me?" - -"No;--why should I try? If any trying were necessary, I would try -rather not to love you. Why should I try to do that which would -displease everybody belonging to me? For yourself, I admit your right -to address me,--and tell you frankly that it would not be in vain, if -I loved you. But I tell you as frankly that such a marriage would not -please those whom I am bound to try to please." - -He paused a moment before he spoke further. "I shall wait," he said, -"and come again." - -"What am I to say to that? Do not tease me, so that I be driven to -treat you with lack of courtesy. Lady Laura is so much attached to -you, and Mr. Kennedy, and Lord Brentford,--and indeed I may say, -I myself also, that I trust there may be nothing to mar our good -fellowship. Come, Mr. Finn,--say that you will take an answer, and -I will give you my hand." - -"Give it me," said he. She gave him her hand, and he put it up to his -lips and pressed it. "I will wait and come again," he said. "I will -assuredly come again." Then he turned from her and went out of the -house. At the corner of the square he saw Lady Laura's carriage, but -did not stop to speak to her. And she also saw him. - -"So you have had a visitor here," said Lady Laura to Violet. - -"Yes;--I have been caught in the trap." - -"Poor mouse! And has the cat made a meal of you?" - -"I fancy he has, after his fashion. There be cats that eat their mice -without playing,--and cats that play with their mice, and then eat -them; and cats again which only play with their mice, and don't care -to eat them. Mr. Finn is a cat of the latter kind, and has had his -afternoon's diversion." - -"You wrong him there." - -"I think not, Laura. I do not mean to say that he would not have -liked me to accept him. But, if I can see inside his bosom, such a -little job as that he has now done will be looked back upon as one of -the past pleasures of his life;--not as a pain." - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII - -Mr. Mildmay's Bill - - -It will be necessary that we should go back in our story for a very -short period in order that the reader may be told that Phineas Finn -was duly re-elected at Loughton after his appointment at the Treasury -Board. There was some little trouble at Loughton, and something -more of expense than he had before encountered. Mr. Quintus Slide -absolutely came down, and was proposed by Mr. Vellum for the borough. -Mr. Vellum being a gentleman learned in the law, and hostile to the -interests of the noble owner of Saulsby, was able to raise a little -trouble against our hero. Mr. Slide was proposed by Mr. Vellum, and -seconded by Mr. Vellum's clerk,--though, as it afterwards appeared, -Mr. Vellum's clerk was not in truth an elector,--and went to the poll -like a man. He received three votes, and at twelve o'clock withdrew. -This in itself could hardly have afforded compensation for the -expense which Mr. Slide or his backers must have encountered;--but -he had an opportunity of making a speech, every word of which was -reported in the _People's Banner_; and if the speech was made in the -language given in the report, Mr. Slide was really possessed of some -oratorical power. Most of those who read the speech in the columns -of the _People's Banner_ were probably not aware how favourable an -opportunity of retouching his sentences in type had been given to Mr. -Slide by the fact of his connection with the newspaper. The speech -had been very severe upon our hero; and though the speaker had -been so hooted and pelted at Loughton as to have been altogether -inaudible,--so maltreated that in point of fact he had not been able -to speak above a tenth part of his speech at all,--nevertheless the -speech did give Phineas a certain amount of pain. Why Phineas should -have read it who can tell? But who is there that abstains from -reading that which is printed in abuse of himself? - -In the speech as it was printed Mr. Slide declared that he had no -thought of being returned for the borough. He knew too well how -the borough was managed, what slaves the electors were;--how they -groaned under a tyranny from which hitherto they had been unable -to release themselves. Of course the Earl's nominee, his lacquey, -as the honourable gentleman might be called, would be returned. -The Earl could order them to return whichever of his lacqueys he -pleased.--There is something peculiarly pleasing to the democratic -ear in the word lacquey! Any one serving a big man, whatever -the service may be, is the big man's lacquey in the _People's -Banner_.--The speech throughout was very bitter. Mr. Phineas Finn, -who had previously served in Parliament as the lacquey of an Irish -earl, and had been turned off by him, had now fallen into the service -of the English earl, and was the lacquey chosen for the present -occasion. But he, Quintus Slide, who boasted himself to be a man -of the people,--he could tell them that the days of their thraldom -were coming to an end, and that their enfranchisement was near at -hand. That friend of the people, Mr. Turnbull, had a clause in his -breeches-pocket which he would either force down the unwilling throat -of Mr. Mildmay, or else drive the imbecile Premier from office by -carrying it in his teeth. Loughton, as Loughton, must be destroyed, -but it should be born again in a better birth as a part of a -real electoral district, sending a real member, chosen by a real -constituency, to a real Parliament. In those days,--and they would -come soon,--Mr. Quintus Slide rather thought that Mr. Phineas Finn -would be found "nowhere," and he rather thought also that when he -showed himself again, as he certainly should do, in the midst of that -democratic electoral district as the popular candidate for the honour -of representing it in Parliament, that democratic electoral district -would accord to him a reception very different from that which he -was now receiving from the Earl's lacqueys in the parliamentary -village of Loughton. A prettier bit of fiction than these sentences -as composing a part of any speech delivered, or proposed to be -delivered, at Loughton, Phineas thought he had never seen. And when -he read at the close of the speech that though the Earl's hired -bullies did their worst, the remarks of Mr. Slide were received by -the people with reiterated cheering, he threw himself back in his -chair at the Treasury and roared. The poor fellow had been three -minutes on his legs, had received three rotten eggs, and one dead -dog, and had retired. But not the half of the speech as printed in -the _People's Banner_ has been quoted. The sins of Phineas, who in -spite of his inability to open his mouth in public had been made -a Treasury hack by the aristocratic influence,--"by aristocratic -influence not confined to the male sex,"--were described at great -length, and in such language that Phineas for a while was fool enough -to think that it would be his duty to belabour Mr. Slide with a -horsewhip. This notion, however, did not endure long with him, and -when Mr. Monk told him that things of that kind came as a matter of -course, he was comforted. - -But he found it much more difficult to obtain comfort when he weighed -the arguments brought forward against the abominations of such a -borough as that for which he sat, and reflected that if Mr. Turnbull -brought forward his clause, he, Phineas Finn, would be bound to vote -against the clause, knowing the clause to be right, because he was a -servant of the Government. The arguments, even though they appeared -in the _People's Banner_, were true arguments; and he had on one -occasion admitted their truth to his friend Lady Laura,--in the -presence of that great Cabinet Minister, her husband. "What business -has such a man as that down there? Is there a single creature who -wants him?" Lady Laura had said. "I don't suppose anybody does want -Mr. Quintus Slide," Phineas had replied; "but I am disposed to think -the electors should choose the man they do want, and that at present -they have no choice left to them." "They are quite satisfied," said -Lady Laura, angrily. "Then, Lady Laura," continued Phineas, "that -alone should be sufficient to prove that their privilege of returning -a member to Parliament is too much for them. We can't defend it." -"It is defended by tradition," said Mr. Kennedy. "And by its great -utility," said Lady Laura, bowing to the young member who was -present, and forgetting that very useless old gentleman, her cousin, -who had sat for the borough for many years. "In this country it -doesn't do to go too fast," said Mr. Kennedy. "And then the mixture -of vulgarity, falsehood, and pretence!" said Lady Laura, shuddering -as her mind recurred to the fact that Mr. Quintus Slide had -contaminated Loughton by his presence. "I am told that they hardly -let him leave the place alive." - -Whatever Mr. Kennedy and Lady Laura might think about Loughton -and the general question of small boroughs, it was found by the -Government, to their great cost, that Mr. Turnbull's clause was a -reality. After two months of hard work, all questions of franchise -had been settled, rating and renting, new and newfangled, fancy -franchises and those which no one fancied, franchises for boroughs -and franchises for counties, franchises single, dual, three-cornered, -and four-sided,--by various clauses to which the Committee of the -whole House had agreed after some score of divisions,--the matter -of the franchise had been settled. No doubt there was the House -of Lords, and there might yet be shipwreck. But it was generally -believed that the Lords would hardly look at the bill,--that they -would not even venture on an amendment. The Lords would only be too -happy to let the matter be settled by the Commons themselves. But -then, after the franchise, came redistribution. How sick of the -subject were all members of the Government, no one could tell who -did not see their weary faces. The whole House was sick, having been -whipped into various lobbies, night after night, during the heat of -the summer, for weeks past. Redistribution! Why should there be any -redistribution? They had got, or would get, a beautiful franchise. -Could they not see what that would do for them? Why redistribute -anything? But, alas, it was too late to go back to so blessed an idea -as that! Redistribution they must have. But there should be as little -redistribution as possible. Men were sick of it all, and would not be -exigeant. Something should be done for overgrown counties;--something -for new towns which had prospered in brick and mortar. It would -be easy to crush up a peccant borough or two,--a borough that had -been discovered in its sin. And a few boroughs now blessed with -two members might consent to be blessed only with one. Fifteen -small clauses might settle the redistribution, in spite of Mr. -Turnbull,--if only Mr. Daubeny would be good-natured. - -Neither the weather, which was very hot, nor the tedium of the -session, which had been very great, nor the anxiety of Ministers, -which was very pressing, had any effect in impairing the energy -of Mr. Turnbull. He was as instant, as oratorical, as hostile, as -indignant about redistribution as he had been about the franchise. He -had been sure then, and he was sure now, that Ministers desired to -burke the question, to deceive the people, to produce a bill that -should be no bill. He brought out his clause,--and made Loughton -his instance. "Would the honourable gentleman who sat lowest on -the Treasury bench,--who at this moment was in sweet confidential -intercourse with the right honourable gentleman now President of the -Board of Trade, who had once been a friend of the people,--would the -young Lord of the Treasury get up in his place and tell them that -no peer of Parliament had at present a voice in sending a member to -their House of Commons,--that no peer would have a voice if this -bill, as proposed by the Government, were passed in its present -useless, ineffectual, conservative, and most dishonest form?" - -Phineas, who replied to this, and who told Mr. Turnbull that he -himself could not answer for any peers,--but that he thought it -probable that most peers would, by their opinions, somewhat influence -the opinions of some electors,--was thought to have got out of his -difficulty very well. But there was the clause of Mr. Turnbull to be -dealt with,--a clause directly disfranchising seven single-winged -boroughs, of which Loughton was of course one,--a clause to which the -Government must either submit or object. Submission would be certain -defeat in one way, and objection would be as certain defeat in -another,--if the gentlemen on the other side were not disposed to -assist the ministers. It was said that the Cabinet was divided. -Mr. Gresham and Mr. Monk were for letting the seven boroughs go. -Mr. Mildmay could not bring himself to obey Mr. Turnbull, and Mr. -Palliser supported him. When Mr. Mildmay was told that Mr. Daubeny -would certainly go into the same lobby with Mr. Turnbull respecting -the seven boroughs, he was reported to have said that in that case -Mr. Daubeny must be prepared with a Government. Mr. Daubeny made a -beautiful speech about the seven boroughs;--the seven sins, and seven -stars, and seven churches, and seven lamps. He would make no party -question of this. Gentlemen who usually acted with him would vote -as their own sense of right or wrong directed them;--from which -expression of a special sanction it was considered that these -gentlemen were not accustomed to exercise the privilege now accorded -to them. But in regarding the question as one of right and wrong, and -in looking at what he believed to be both the wish of the country and -its interests, he, Mr. Daubeny,--he, himself, being simply a humble -member of that House,--must support the clause of the honourable -gentleman. Almost all those to whom had been surrendered the -privilege of using their own judgment for that occasion only, used it -discreetly,--as their chief had used it himself,--and Mr. Turnbull -carried his clause by a majority of fifteen. It was then 3 a.m., -and Mr. Gresham, rising after the division, said that his right -honourable friend the First Lord of the Treasury was too tired -to return to the House, and had requested him to state that the -Government would declare their purpose at 6 p.m. on the following -evening. - -Phineas, though he had made his little speech in answer to Mr. -Turnbull with good-humoured flippancy, had recorded his vote in -favour of the seven boroughs with a sore heart. Much as he disliked -Mr. Turnbull, he knew that Mr. Turnbull was right in this. He had -spoken to Mr. Monk on the subject, as it were asking Mr. Monk's -permission to throw up his office, and vote against Mr. Mildmay. But -Mr. Monk was angry with him, telling him that his conscience was of -that restless, uneasy sort which is neither useful nor manly. "We -all know," said Mr. Monk, "and none better than Mr. Mildmay, that -we cannot justify such a borough as Loughton by the theory of our -parliamentary representation,--any more than we can justify the -fact that Huntingdonshire should return as many members as the East -Riding. There must be compromises, and you should trust to others who -have studied the matter more thoroughly than you, to say how far the -compromise should go at the present moment." - -"It is the influence of the peer, not the paucity of the electors," -said Phineas. - -"And has no peer any influence in a county? Would you disfranchise -Westmoreland? Believe me, Finn, if you want to be useful, you must -submit yourself in such matters to those with whom you act." - -Phineas had no answer to make, but he was not happy in his mind. And -he was the less happy, perhaps, because he was very sure that Mr. -Mildmay would be beaten. Mr. Low in these days harassed him sorely. -Mr. Low was very keen against such boroughs as Loughton, declaring -that Mr. Daubeny was quite right to join his standard to that of Mr. -Turnbull on such an issue. Mr. Low was the reformer now, and Phineas -found himself obliged to fight a losing battle on behalf of an -acknowledged abuse. He never went near Bunce; but, unfortunately for -him, Bunce caught him once in the street and showed him no mercy. -"Slide was a little 'eavy on you in the _Banner_ the other day,--eh, -Mr. Finn?--too 'eavy, as I told him." - -"Mr. Slide can be just as heavy as he pleases, Bunce." - -"That's in course. The press is free, thank God,--as yet. But it -wasn't any good rattling away at the Earl's little borough when it's -sure to go. Of course it'll go, Mr. Finn." - -"I think it will." - -"The whole seven on 'em. The 'ouse couldn't but do it. They tell me -it's all Mr. Mildmay's own work, sticking out for keeping on 'em. -He's very old, and so we'll forgive him. But he must go, Mr. Finn." - -"We shall know all about that soon, Bunce." - -"If you don't get another seat, Mr. Finn, I suppose we shall see you -back at the Inn. I hope we may. It's better than being member for -Loughton, Mr. Finn;--you may be sure of that." And then Mr. Bunce -passed on. - -Mr. Turnbull carried his clause, and Loughton was doomed. Loughton -and the other six deadly sins were anathematized, exorcised, and -finally got rid of out of the world by the voices of the gentlemen -who had been proclaiming the beauty of such pleasant vices all their -lives, and who in their hearts hated all changes that tended towards -popular representation. But not the less was Mr. Mildmay beaten; -and, in accordance with the promise made by his first lieutenant -immediately after the vote was taken, the Prime Minister came forward -on the next evening and made his statement. He had already put his -resignation into the hands of Her Majesty, and Her Majesty had -graciously accepted it. He was very old, and felt that the time had -come in which it behoved him to retire into that leisure which he -thought he had, perhaps, earned. He had hoped to carry this bill as -the last act of his political life; but he was too old, too stiff, as -he said, in his prejudices, to bend further than he had bent already, -and he must leave the completion of the matter in other hands. Her -Majesty had sent for Mr. Gresham, and Mr. Gresham had already seen -Her Majesty. Mr. Gresham and his other colleagues, though they -dissented from the clause which had been carried by the united -efforts of gentlemen opposite to him, and of gentlemen below him on -his own side of the House, were younger men than he, and would, for -the country's sake,--and for the sake of Her Majesty,--endeavour -to carry the bill through. There would then, of course, be a -dissolution, and the future Government would, no doubt, depend on -the choice of the country. From all which it was understood that Mr. -Gresham was to go on with the bill to a conclusion, whatever might be -the divisions carried against him, and that a new Secretary of State -for Foreign Affairs must be chosen. Phineas understood, also, that -he had lost his seat at Loughton. For the borough of Loughton there -would never again be an election. "If I had been Mr. Mildmay, I would -have thrown the bill up altogether," Lord Brentford said afterwards; -"but of course it was not for me to interfere." - -The session was protracted for two months after that,--beyond the -time at which grouse should have been shot,--and by the 23rd of -August became the law of the land. "I shall never get over it," said -Mr. Ratler to Mr. Finn, seated one terribly hot evening on a bench -behind the Cabinet Ministers,--"never. I don't suppose such a session -for work was ever known before. Think what it is to have to keep -men together in August, with the thermometer at 81 degress, and the -river stinking like,--like the very mischief." Mr. Ratler, however, -did not die. - -On the last day of the session Laurence Fitzgibbon resigned. Rumours -reached the ears of Phineas as to the cause of this, but no certain -cause was told him. It was said that Lord Cantrip had insisted upon -it, Laurence having by mischance been called upon for some official -statement during an unfortunate period of absence. There was, -however, a mystery about it;--but the mystery was not half so -wonderful as the triumph to Phineas, when Mr. Gresham offered him the -place. - -"But I shall have no seat," said Phineas. - -"We shall none of us have seats to-morrow," said Mr. Gresham. - -"But I shall be at a loss to find a place to stand for." - -"The election will not come on till November, and you must look about -you. Both Mr. Monk and Lord Brentford seem to think you will be in -the House." - -And so the bill was carried, and the session was ended. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII - -"The Duke" - - -By the middle of September there was assembled a large party at -Matching Priory, a country mansion belonging to Mr. Plantagenet -Palliser. The men had certainly been chosen in reference to their -political feelings and position,--for there was not a guest in -the house who had voted for Mr. Turnbull's clause, or the wife -or daughter, or sister of any one who had so voted. Indeed, in -these days politics ran so high that among politicians all social -gatherings were brought together with some reference to the state -of parties. Phineas was invited, and when he arrived at Matching he -found that half the Cabinet was there. Mr. Kennedy was not there, nor -was Lady Laura. Mr. Monk was there, and the Duke,--with the Duchess, -and Mr. Gresham, and Lord Thrift; Mrs. Max Goesler was there also, -and Mrs. Bonteen,--Mr. Bonteen being detained somewhere out of -the way; and Violet Effingham was expected in two days, and Lord -Chiltern at the end of the week. Lady Glencora took an opportunity -of imparting this latter information to Phineas very soon after his -arrival; and Phineas, as he watched her eye and her mouth while she -spoke, was quite sure that Lady Glencora knew the story of the duel. -"I shall be delighted to see him again," said Phineas. "That is -all right," said Lady Glencora. There were also there Mr. and Mrs. -Grey, who were great friends of the Pallisers,--and on the very day -on which Phineas reached Matching, at half an hour before the time -for dressing, the Duke of Omnium arrived. Now, Mr. Palliser was the -Duke's nephew and heir,--and the Duke of Omnium was a very great -person indeed. I hardly know why it should have been so, but the Duke -of Omnium was certainly a greater man in public estimation than the -other duke then present,--the Duke of St. Bungay. The Duke of St. -Bungay was a useful man, and had been so all his life, sitting in -Cabinets and serving his country, constant as any peer in the House -of Lords, always ready to take on his own shoulders any troublesome -work required of him, than whom Mr. Mildmay, and Mr. Mildmay's -predecessor at the head of the liberal party, had had no more devoted -adherent. But the Duke of Omnium had never yet done a day's work on -behalf of his country. They both wore the Garter, the Duke of St. -Bungay having earned it by service, the Duke of Omnium having been -decorated with the blue ribbon,--because he was Duke of Omnium. The -one was a moral, good man, a good husband, a good father, and a good -friend. The other,--did not bear quite so high a reputation. But men -and women thought but little of the Duke of St. Bungay, while the -other duke was regarded with an almost reverential awe. I think the -secret lay in the simple fact that the Duke of Omnium had not been -common in the eyes of the people. He had contrived to envelope -himself in something of the ancient mystery of wealth and rank. -Within three minutes of the Duke's arrival Mrs. Bonteen, with an air -of great importance, whispered a word to Phineas. "He has come. He -arrived exactly at seven!" - -"Who has come?" Phineas asked. - -"The Duke of Omnium!" she said, almost reprimanding him by her tone -of voice for his indifference. "There has been a great doubt whether -or no he would show himself at last. Lady Glencora told me that he -never will pledge himself. I am so glad he has come." - -"I don't think I ever saw him," said Phineas. - -"Oh, I have seen him,--a magnificent-looking man! I think it is so -very nice of Lady Glencora getting him to meet us. It is very rarely -that he will join in a great party, but they say Lady Glencora can do -anything with him since the heir was born. I suppose you have heard -all about that." - -"No," said Phineas; "I have heard nothing of the heir, but I know -that there are three or four babies." - -"There was no heir, you know, for a year and a half, and they were -all au desespoir; and the Duke was very nearly quarrelling with his -nephew; and Mr. Palliser--; you know it had very nearly come to a -separation." - -"I don't know anything at all about it," said Phineas, who was not -very fond of the lady who was giving him the information. - -"It is so, I can assure you; but since the boy was born Lady Glencora -can do anything with the Duke. She made him go to Ascot last spring, -and he presented her with the favourite for one of the races on the -very morning the horse ran. They say he gave three thousand pounds -for him." - -"And did Lady Glencora win?" - -"No;--the horse lost; and Mr. Palliser has never known what to do -with him since. But it was very pretty of the Duke;--was it not?" - -Phineas, though he had intended to show to Mrs. Bonteen how little he -thought about the Duke of Omnium,--how small was his respect for a -great peer who took no part in politics,--could not protect himself -from a certain feeling of anxiety as to the aspect and gait and words -of the man of whom people thought so much, of whom he had heard so -often, and of whom he had seen so little. He told himself that the -Duke of Omnium should be no more to him than any other man, but yet -the Duke of Omnium was more to him than other men. When he came -down into the drawing-room he was angry with himself, and stood -apart;--and was then angry with himself again because he stood apart. -Why should he make a difference in his own bearing because there was -such a man in the company? And yet he could not avoid it. When he -entered the room the Duke was standing in a large bow-window, and two -or three ladies and two or three men were standing round him. Phineas -would not go near the group, telling himself that he would not -approach a man so grand as was the Duke of Omnium. He saw Madame Max -Goesler among the party, and after a while he saw her retreat. As she -retreated, Phineas knew that some words from Madame Max Goesler had -not been received with the graciousness which she had expected. There -was the prettiest smile in the world on the lady's face, and she -took a corner on a sofa with an air of perfect satisfaction. But yet -Phineas knew that she had received a wound. - -"I called twice on you in London," said Phineas, coming up close to -her, "but was not fortunate enough to find you!" - -"Yes;--but you came so late in the season as to make it impossible -that there should be any arrangements for our meeting. What can any -woman do when a gentleman calls on her in August?" - -"I came in July." - -"Yes, you did; on the 31st. I keep the most accurate record of all -such things, Mr. Finn. But let us hope that we may have better luck -next year. In the meantime, we can only enjoy the good things that -are going." - -"Socially, or politically, Madame Goesler?" - -"Oh, socially. How can I mean anything else when the Duke of Omnium -is here? I feel so much taller at being in the same house with him. -Do not you? But you are a spoilt child of fortune, and perhaps you -have met him before." - -"I think I once saw the back of a hat in the park, and somebody told -me that the Duke's head was inside it." - -"And you have never seen him but that once?" - -"Never but that once,--till now." - -"And do not you feel elated?" - -"Of course I do. For what do you take me, Madame Goesler?" - -"I do,--immensely. I believe him to be a fool, and I never heard of -his doing a kind act to anybody in my life." - -"Not when he gave the racehorse to Lady Glencora?" - -"I wonder whether that was true. Did you ever hear of such an -absurdity? As I was saying, I don't think he ever did anything -for anybody;--but then, you know, to be Duke of Omnium! It isn't -necessary,--is it,--that a Duke of Omnium should do anything except -be Duke of Omnium?" - -At this moment Lady Glencora came up to Phineas, and took him across -to the Duke. The Duke had expressed a desire to be introduced to him. -Phineas, half-pleased and half-disgusted, had no alternative, and -followed Lady Glencora. The Duke shook hands with him, and made a -little bow, and said something about the garrotters, which Phineas, -in his confusion, did not quite understand. He tried to reply as he -would have replied to anybody else, but the weight of the Duke's -majesty was too much for him, and he bungled. The Duke made another -little bow, and in a moment was speaking a word of condescension -to some other favoured individual. Phineas retreated altogether -disgusted,--hating the Duke, but hating himself worse; but he would -not retreat in the direction of Madame Max Goesler. It might suit -that lady to take an instant little revenge for her discomfiture, but -it did not suit him to do so. The question with him would be, whether -in some future part of his career it might not be his duty to assist -in putting down Dukes of Omnium. - -At dinner Phineas sat between Mrs. Bonteen and the Duchess of St. -Bungay, and did not find himself very happy. At the other end of the -table the Duke,--the great Duke, was seated at Lady Glencora's right -hand, and on his other side Fortune had placed Madame Max Goesler. -The greatest interest which Phineas had during the dinner was in -watching the operations,--the triumphantly successful operations of -that lady. Before dinner she had been wounded by the Duke. The Duke -had not condescended to accord the honour of his little bow of -graciousness to some little flattering morsel of wit which the lady -had uttered on his behoof. She had said a sharp word or two in her -momentary anger to Phineas; but when Fortune was so good to her in -that matter of her place at dinner, she was not fool enough to throw -away her chance. Throughout the soup and fish she was very quiet. -She said a word or two after her first glass of champagne. The Duke -refused two dishes, one after another, and then she glided into -conversation. By the time that he had his roast mutton before him she -was in full play, and as she eat her peach, the Duke was bending over -her with his most gracious smile. - -"Didn't you think the session was very long, Mr. Finn?" said the -Duchess to Phineas. - -"Very long indeed, Duchess," said Phineas, with his attention still -fixed on Madame Max Goesler. - -"The Duke found it very troublesome." - -"I daresay he did," said Phineas. That duke and that duchess were no -more than any other man and any other man's wife. The session had -not been longer to the Duke of St. Bungay than to all the public -servants. Phineas had the greatest possible respect for the Duke of -St. Bungay, but he could not take much interest in the wailings of -the Duchess on her husband's behalf. - -"And things do seem to be so very uncomfortable now," said the -Duchess,--thinking partly of the resignation of Mr. Mildmay, and -partly of the fact that her own old peculiar maid who had lived with -her for thirty years had retired into private life. - -"Not so very bad, Duchess, I hope," said Phineas, observing that at -this moment Madame Max Goesler's eyes were brilliant with triumph. -Then there came upon him a sudden ambition,--that he would like to -"cut out" the Duke of Omnium in the estimation of Madame Max Goesler. -The brightness of Madame Max Goesler's eyes had not been thrown away -upon our hero. - -Violet Effingham came at the appointed time, and, to the surprise of -Phineas, was brought to Matching by Lord Brentford. Phineas at first -thought that it was intended that the Earl and his son should meet -and make up their quarrel at Mr. Palliser's house. But Lord Brentford -stayed only one night, and Phineas on the next morning heard the -whole history of his coming and going from Violet. "I have almost -been on my knees to him to stay," she said. "Indeed, I did go on my -knees,--actually on my knees." - -"And what did he say?" - -"He put his arm round me and kissed me, and,--and,--I cannot tell you -all that he said. But it ended in this,--that if Chiltern can be made -to go to Saulsby, fatted calves without stint will be killed. I shall -do all I can to make him go; and so must you, Mr. Finn. Of course -that silly affair in foreign parts is not to make any difference -between you two." - -Phineas smiled, and said he would do his best, and looked up into her -face, and was just able to talk to her as though things were going -comfortably with him. But his heart was very cold. As Violet had -spoken to him about Lord Chiltern there had come upon him, for the -first time,--for the first time since he had known that Lord Chiltern -had been refused,--an idea, a doubt, whether even yet Violet might -not become Lord Chiltern's wife. His heart was very sad, but he -struggled on,--declaring that it was incumbent on them both to bring -together the father and son. - -"I am so glad to hear you say so, Mr. Finn," said Violet. "I really -do believe that you can do more towards it than any one else. Lord -Chiltern would think nothing of my advice,--would hardly speak to me -on such a subject. But he respects you as well as likes you, and not -the less because of what has occurred." - -How was it that Violet should know aught of the respect or liking -felt by this rejected suitor for that other suitor,--who had also -been rejected? And how was it that she was thus able to talk of one -of them to the other, as though neither of them had ever come forward -with such a suit? Phineas felt his position to be so strange as to be -almost burdensome. He had told Violet, when she had refused him, very -plainly, that he should come again to her, and ask once more for the -great gift which he coveted. But he could not ask again now. In the -first place, there was that in her manner which made him sure that -were he to do so, he would ask in vain; and then he felt that she was -placing a special confidence in him, against which he would commit a -sin were he to use her present intimacy with him for the purposes of -making love. They two were to put their shoulders together to help -Lord Chiltern, and while doing so he could not continue a suit which -would be felt by both of them to be hostile to Lord Chiltern. There -might be opportunity for a chance word, and if so the chance word -should be spoken; but he could not make a deliberate attack, such as -he had made in Portman Square. Violet also probably understood that -she had not now been caught in a mousetrap. - -The Duke was to spend four days at Matching, and on the third -day,--the day before Lord Chiltern was expected,--he was to be seen -riding with Madame Max Goesler by his side. Madame Max Goesler was -known as a perfect horsewoman,--one indeed who was rather fond of -going a little fast on horseback, and who rode well to hounds. But -the Duke seldom moved out of a walk, and on this occasion Madame Max -was as steady in her seat and almost as slow as the mounted ghost -in _Don Juan_. But it was said by some there, especially by Mrs. -Bonteen, that the conversation between them was not slow. And on the -next morning the Duke and Madame Max Goesler were together again -before luncheon, standing on a terrace at the back of the house, -looking down on a party who were playing croquet on the lawn. - -"Do you never play?" said the Duke. - -"Oh yes;--one does everything a little." - -"I am sure you would play well. Why do you not play now?" - -"No;--I shall not play now." - -"I should like to see you with your mallet." - -"I am sorry your Grace cannot be gratified. I have played croquet -till I am tired of it, and have come to think it is only fit for -boys and girls. The great thing is to give them opportunities for -flirting, and it does that." - -"And do you never flirt, Madame Goesler?" - -"Never at croquet, Duke." - -"And what with you is the choicest time?" - -"That depends on so many things,--and so much on the chosen person. -What do you recommend?" - -"Ah,--I am so ignorant. I can recommend nothing." - -"What do you say to a mountain-top at dawn on a summer day?" asked -Madame Max Goesler. - -"You make me shiver," said the Duke. - -"Or a boat on a lake on a summer evening, or a good lead after hounds -with nobody else within three fields, or the bottom of a salt-mine, -or the deck of an ocean steamer, or a military hospital in time of -war, or a railway journey from Paris to Marseilles?" - -"Madame Max Goesler, you have the most uncomfortable ideas." - -"I have no doubt your Grace has tried each of them,--successfully. -But perhaps, after all, a comfortable chair over a good fire, in a -pretty room, beats everything." - -"I think it does,--certainly," said the Duke. Then he whispered -something at which Madame Max Goesler blushed and smiled, and -immediately after that she followed those who had already gone in -to lunch. - -Mrs. Bonteen had been hovering round the spot on the terrace on which -the Duke and Madame Max Goesler had been standing, looking on with -envious eyes, meditating some attack, some interruption, some excuse -for an interpolation, but her courage had failed her and she had -not dared to approach. The Duke had known nothing of the hovering -propinquity of Mrs. Bonteen, but Madame Goesler had seen and had -understood it all. - -"Dear Mrs. Bonteen," she said afterwards, "why did you not come and -join us? The Duke was so pleasant." - -"Two is company, and three is none," said Mrs. Bonteen, who in her -anger was hardly able to choose her words quite as well as she might -have done had she been more cool. - -"Our friend Madame Max has made quite a new conquest," said Mrs. -Bonteen to Lady Glencora. - -"I am so pleased," said Lady Glencora, with apparently unaffected -delight. "It is such a great thing to get anybody to amuse my uncle. -You see everybody cannot talk to him, and he will not talk to -everybody." - -"He talked enough to her in all conscience," said Mrs. Bonteen, who -was now more angry than ever. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX - -The Duellists Meet - - -Lord Chiltern arrived, and Phineas was a little nervous as to their -meeting. He came back from shooting on the day in question, and was -told by the servant that Lord Chiltern was in the house. Phineas went -into the billiard-room in his knickerbockers, thinking probably that -he might be there, and then into the drawing-room, and at last into -the library,--but Lord Chiltern was not to be found. At last he came -across Violet. - -"Have you seen him?" he asked. - -"Yes;--he was with me half an hour since, walking round the gardens." - -"And how is he? Come;--tell me something about him." - -"I never knew him to be more pleasant. He would give no promise about -Saulsby, but he did not say that he would not go." - -"Does he know that I am here?" - -"Yes;--I told him so. I told him how much pleasure I should have in -seeing you two together,--as friends." - -"And what did he say?" - -"He laughed, and said you were the best fellow in the world. You see -I am obliged to be explicit." - -"But why did he laugh?" Phineas asked. - -"He did not tell me, but I suppose it was because he was thinking of -a little trip he once took to Belgium, and he perceived that I knew -all about it." - -"I wonder who told you. But never mind. I do not mean to ask any -questions. As I do not like that our first meeting should be before -all the people in the drawing-room, I will go to him in his own -room." - -"Do, do;--that will be so nice of you." - -Phineas sent his card up by a servant, and in a few minutes was -standing with his hand on the lock of Lord Chiltern's door. The last -time he had seen this man, they had met with pistols in their hands -to shoot at each other, and Lord Chiltern had in truth done his very -best to shoot his opponent. The cause of quarrel was the same between -them as ever. Phineas had not given up Violet, and had no intention -of giving her up. And he had received no intimation whatever from his -rival that there was to be a truce between them. Phineas had indeed -written in friendship to Lord Chiltern, but he had received no -answer;--and nothing of certainty was to be gathered from the report -which Violet had just made. It might well be that Lord Chiltern -would turn upon him now in his wrath, and that there would be some -scene which in a strange house would be obviously objectionable. -Nevertheless he had resolved that even that would be better than a -chance encounter among strangers in a drawing-room. So the door was -opened and the two men met. - -"Well, old fellow," said Lord Chiltern, laughing. Then all doubt was -over, and in a moment Phineas was shaking his former,--and present -friend, warmly by the hand. "So we've come to be an Under-Secretary -have we?--and all that kind of thing." - -"I had to get into harness,--when the harness offered itself," said -Phineas. - -"I suppose so. It's a deuce of a bore, isn't it?" - -"I always liked work, you know." - -"I thought you liked hunting better. You used to ride as if you did. -There's Bonebreaker back again in the stable for you. That poor fool -who bought him could do nothing with him, and I let him have his -money back." - -"I don't see why you should have done that." - -"Because I was the biggest fool of the two. Do you remember when that -brute got me down under the bank in the river? That was about the -nearest touch I ever had. Lord bless me;--how he did squeeze me! So -here you are;--staying with the Pallisers,--one of a Government party -I suppose. But what are you going to do for a seat, my friend?" - -"Don't talk about that yet, Chiltern." - -"A sore subject,--isn't it? I think they have been quite right, you -know, to put Loughton into the melting-pot,--though I'm sorry enough -for your sake." - -"Quite right," said Phineas. - -"And yet you voted against it, old chap? But, come; I'm not going to -be down upon you. So my father has been here?" - -"Yes;--he was here for a day or two." - -"Violet has just been telling me. You and he are as good friends as -ever?" - -"I trust we are." - -"He never heard of that little affair?" And Lord Chiltern nodded his -head, intending to indicate the direction of Blankenberg. - -"I do not think he has yet." - -"So Violet tells me. Of course you know that she has heard all about -it." - -"I have reason to suppose as much." - -"And so does Laura." - -"I told her myself," said Phineas. - -"The deuce you did! But I daresay it was for the best. It's a pity -you had not proclaimed it at Charing Cross, and then nobody would -have believed a word about it. Of course my father will hear it some -day." - -"You are going to Saulsby, I hope, Chiltern?" - -"That question is easier asked than answered. It is quite true that -the great difficulty has been got over. Laura has had her money. And -if my father will only acknowledge that he has wronged me throughout, -from beginning to end, I will go to Saulsby to-morrow;--and would cut -you out at Loughton the next day, only that Loughton is not Loughton -any longer." - -"You cannot expect your father to do that." - -"No;--and therefore there is a difficulty. So you've had that awfully -ponderous Duke here. How did you get on with him?" - -"Admirably. He condescended to do something which he called shaking -hands with me." - -"He is the greatest old dust out," said Lord Chiltern, -disrespectfully. "Did he take any notice of Violet?" - -"Not that I observed." - -"He ought not to be allowed into the same room with her." After that -there was a short pause, and Phineas felt some hesitation in speaking -of Miss Effingham to Lord Chiltern. "And how do you get on with her?" -asked Lord Chiltern. Here was a question for a man to answer. The -question was so hard to be answered, that Phineas did not at first -make any attempt to answer it. "You know exactly the ground that I -stand on," continued Lord Chiltern. "She has refused me three times. -Have you been more fortunate?" - -Lord Chiltern, as he asked his question, looked full into Finn's face -in a manner that was irresistible. His look was not one of anger nor -even of pride. It was not, indeed, without a strong dash of fun. But -such as it was it showed Phineas that Lord Chiltern intended to have -an answer. "No," said he at last, "I have not been more fortunate." - -"Perhaps you have changed your mind," said his host. - -"No;--I have not changed my mind," said Phineas, quickly. - -"How stands it then? Come;--let us be honest to each other. I told -you down at Willingford that I would quarrel with any man who -attempted to cut me out with Violet Effingham. You made up your mind -that you would do so, and therefore I quarrelled with you. But we -can't always be fighting duels." - -"I hope we may not have to fight another." - -"No;--it would be absurd," said Lord Chiltern. "I rather think that -what we did was absurd. But upon my life I did not see any other way -out of it. However, that is over. How is it to be now?" - -"What am I to say in answer to that?" asked Phineas. - -"Just the truth. You have asked her, I suppose?" - -"Yes;--I have asked her." - -"And she has refused you?" - -"Yes;--she has refused me." - -"And you mean to ask her again?" - -"I shall;--if I ever think that there is a chance. Indeed, Chiltern, -I believe I shall whether I think that I have any chance or not." - -"Then we start fairly, Finn. I certainly shall do so. I believe -I once told you that I never would;--but that was long before I -suspected that you would enter for the same plate. What a man says on -such a matter when he is down in the mouth goes for nothing. Now we -understand each other, and you had better go and dress. The bell rang -nearly half an hour ago, and my fellow is hanging about outside the -door." - -The interview had in one respect been very pleasant to Phineas, and -in another it had been very bitter. It was pleasant to him to know -that he and Lord Chiltern were again friends. It was a delight to -him to feel that this half-savage but high-spirited young nobleman, -who had been so anxious to fight with him and to shoot him, was -nevertheless ready to own that he had behaved well. Lord Chiltern -had in fact acknowledged that though he had been anxious to blow -out our hero's brains, he was aware all the time that our hero was -a good sort of fellow. Phineas understood this, and felt that it -was pleasant. But with this understanding, and accompanying this -pleasure, there was a conviction in his heart that the distance -between Lord Chiltern and Violet would daily grow to be less and -still less,--and that Lord Chiltern could afford to be generous. If -Miss Effingham could teach herself to be fond of Lord Chiltern, what -had he, Phineas Finn, to offer in opposition to the claims of such a -suitor? - -That evening Lord Chiltern took Miss Effingham out to dinner. Phineas -told himself that this was of course so arranged by Lady Glencora, -with the express view of serving the Saulsby interest. It was almost -nothing to him at the moment that Madame Max Goesler was intrusted -to him. He had his ambition respecting Madame Max Goesler; but that -for the time was in abeyance. He could hardly keep his eyes off Miss -Effingham. And yet, as he well knew, his observation of her must be -quite useless. He knew beforehand, with absolute accuracy, the manner -in which she would treat her lover. She would be kind, genial, -friendly, confidential, nay, affectionate; and yet her manner would -mean nothing, would give no clue to her future decision either for or -against Lord Chiltern. It was, as Phineas thought, a peculiarity with -Violet Effingham that she could treat her rejected lovers as dear -familiar friends immediately after her rejection of them. - -"Mr. Finn," said Madame Max Goesler, "your eyes and ears are -tell-tales of your passion." - -"I hope not," said Phineas, "as I certainly do not wish that any one -should guess how strong is my regard for you." - -"That is prettily turned,--very prettily turned; and shows more -readiness of wit than I gave you credit for under your present -suffering. But of course we all know where your heart is. Men do not -undertake perilous journeys to Belgium for nothing." - -"That unfortunate journey to Belgium! But, dear Madame Max, really -nobody knows why I went." - -"You met Lord Chiltern there?" - -"Oh yes;--I met Lord Chiltern there." - -"And there was a duel?" - -"Madame Max,--you must not ask me to criminate myself!" - -"Of course there was, and of course it was about Miss Effingham, and -of course the lady thinks herself bound to refuse both the gentlemen -who were so very wicked, and of course--" - -"Well,--what follows?" - -"Ah! if you have not wit enough to see, I do not think it can be my -duty to tell you. But I wished to caution you as a friend that your -eyes and ears should be more under your command." - -"You will go to Saulsby?" Violet said to Lord Chiltern. - -"I cannot possibly tell as yet," said he, frowning. - -"Then I can tell you that you ought to go. I do not care a bit for -your frowns. What does the fifth commandment say?" - -"If you have no better arguments than the commandments, Violet--" - -"There can be none better. Do you mean to say that the commandments -are nothing to you?" - -"I mean to say that I shan't go to Saulsby because I am told in the -twentieth chapter of Exodus to honour my father and mother,--and that -I shouldn't believe anybody who told me that he did anything because -of the commandments." - -"Oh, Lord Chiltern!" - -"People are so prejudiced and so used to humbug that for the most -part they do not in the least know their own motives for what they -do. I will go to Saulsby to-morrow,--for a reward." - -"For what reward?" said Violet, blushing. - -"For the only one in the world that could tempt me to do anything." - -"You should go for the sake of duty. I should not even care to see -you go, much as I long for it, if that feeling did not take you -there." - -It was arranged that Phineas and Lord Chiltern were to leave Matching -together. Phineas was to remain at his office all October, and in -November the general election was to take place. What he had hitherto -heard about a future seat was most vague, but he was to meet Ratler -and Barrington Erle in London, and it had been understood that -Barrington Erle, who was now at Saulsby, was to make some inquiry as -to that group of boroughs of which Loughton at this moment formed -one. But as Loughton was the smallest of four boroughs, and as one of -the four had for many years had a representative of its own, Phineas -feared that no success would be found there. In his present agony -he began to think that there might be a strong plea made for a -few private seats in the House of Commons, and that the propriety -of throwing Loughton into the melting-pot was, after all, open to -question. He and Lord Chiltern were to return to London together, -and Lord Chiltern, according to his present scheme, was to proceed -at once to Willingford to look after the cub-hunting. Nothing that -either Violet or Phineas could say to him would induce him to -promise to go to Saulsby. When Phineas pressed it, he was told by -Lord Chiltern that he was a fool for his pains,--by which Phineas -understood perfectly well that when Lord Chiltern did go to Saulsby, -he, Phineas, was to take that as strong evidence that everything was -over for him as regarded Violet Effingham. When Violet expressed her -eagerness that the visit should be made, she was stopped with an -assurance that she could have it done at once if she pleased. Let him -only be enabled to carry with him the tidings of his betrothal, and -he would start for his father's house without an hour's delay. But -this authority Violet would not give him. When he answered her after -this fashion she could only tell him that he was ungenerous. "At any -rate I am not false," he replied on one occasion. "What I say is the -truth." - -There was a very tender parting between Phineas and Madame Max -Goesler. She had learned from him pretty nearly all his history, and -certainly knew more of the reality of his affairs than any of those -in London who had been his most staunch friends. "Of course you'll -get a seat," she said as he took his leave of her. "If I understand -it at all, they never throw over an ally so useful as you are." - -"But the intention is that in this matter nobody shall any longer -have the power of throwing over, or of not throwing over, anybody." - -"That is all very well, my friend; but cakes will still be hot in the -mouth, even though Mr. Daubeny turn purist, with Mr. Turnbull to help -him. If you want any assistance in finding a seat you will not go to -the _People's Banner_,--even yet." - -"Certainly not to the _People's Banner_." - -"I don't quite understand what the franchise is," continued Madame -Max Goesler. - -"Household in boroughs," said Phineas with some energy. - -"Very well;--household in boroughs. I daresay that is very fine and -very liberal, though I don't comprehend it in the least. And you want -a borough. Very well. You won't go to the households. I don't think -you will;--not at first, that is." - -"Where shall I go then?" - -"Oh,--to some great patron of a borough;--or to a club;--or perhaps -to some great firm. The households will know nothing about it till -they are told. Is not that it?" - -"The truth is, Madame Max, I do not know where I shall go. I am like -a child lost in a wood. And you may understand this;--if you do not -see me in Park Lane before the end of January, I shall have perished -in the wood." - -"Then I will come and find you,--with a troop of householders. You -will come. You will be there. I do not believe in death coming -without signs. You are full of life." As she spoke, she had hold -of his hand, and there was nobody near them. They were in a little -book-room inside the library at Matching, and the door, though not -latched, was nearly closed. Phineas had flattered himself that Madame -Goesler had retreated there in order that this farewell might be -spoken without interruption. "And, Mr. Finn;--I wonder whether I may -say one thing," she continued. - -"You may say anything to me," he replied. - -"No,--not in this country, in this England. There are things one -may not say here,--that are tabooed by a sort of consent,--and that -without any reason." She paused again, and Phineas was at a loss to -think what was the subject on which she was about to speak. Could she -mean--? No; she could not mean to give him any outward plain-spoken -sign that she was attached to him. It was the peculiar merit of this -man that he was not vain, though much was done to him to fill him -with vanity; and as the idea crossed his brain, he hated himself -because it had been there. - -"To me you may say anything, Madame Goesler," he said,--"here in -England, as plainly as though we were in Vienna." - -"But I cannot say it in English," she said. Then in French, blushing -and laughing as she spoke,--almost stammering in spite of her usual -self-confidence,--she told him that accident had made her rich, full -of money. Money was a drug with her. Money she knew was wanted, even -for householders. Would he not understand her, and come to her, and -learn from her how faithful a woman could be? - -He still was holding her by the hand, and he now raised it to -his lips and kissed it. "The offer from you," he said, "is as -high-minded, as generous, and as honourable as its acceptance by me -would be mean-spirited, vile, and ignoble. But whether I fail or -whether I succeed, you shall see me before the winter is over." - - - - -CHAPTER L - -Again Successful - - -Phineas also said a word of farewell to Violet before he left -Matching, but there was nothing peculiar in her little speech to him, -or in his to her. "Of course we shall see each other in London. Don't -talk of not being in the House. Of course you will be in the House." -Then Phineas had shaken his head and smiled. Where was he to find -a requisite number of householders prepared to return him? But as -he went up to London he told himself that the air of the House of -Commons was now the very breath of his nostrils. Life to him without -it would be no life. To have come within the reach of the good things -of political life, to have made his mark so as to have almost insured -future success, to have been the petted young official aspirant of -the day,--and then to sink down into the miserable platitudes of -private life, to undergo daily attendance in law-courts without -a brief, to listen to men who had come to be much below him in -estimation and social intercourse, to sit in a wretched chamber up -three pairs of stairs at Lincoln's Inn, whereas he was now at this -moment provided with a gorgeous apartment looking out into the Park -from the Colonial Office in Downing Street, to be attended by a -mongrel between a clerk and an errand boy at 17s. 6d. a week instead -of by a private secretary who was the son of an earl's sister, and -was petted by countesses' daughters innumerable,--all this would -surely break his heart. He could have done it, so he told himself, -and could have taken glory in doing it, had not these other things -come in his way. But the other things had come. He had run the risk, -and had thrown the dice. And now when the game was so nearly won, -must it be that everything should be lost at last? - -He knew that nothing was to be gained by melancholy looks at his -club, or by show of wretchedness at his office. London was very -empty; but the approaching elections still kept some there who -otherwise would have been looking after the first flush of pheasants. -Barrington Erle was there, and was not long in asking Phineas what -were his views. - -"Ah;--that is so hard to say. Ratler told me that he would be looking -about." - -"Ratler is very well in the House," said Barrington, "but he is of no -use for anything beyond it. I suppose you were not brought up at the -London University?" - -"Oh no," said Phineas, remembering the glories of Trinity. - -"Because there would have been an opening. What do you say to -Stratford,--the new Essex borough?" - -"Broadbury the brewer is there already!" - -"Yes;--and ready to spend any money you like to name. Let me see. -Loughton is grouped with Smotherem, and Walker is a deal too strong -at Smotherem to hear of any other claim. I don't think we could dare -to propose it. There are the Chelsea hamlets, but it will take a wack -of money." - -"I have not got a wack of money," said Phineas, laughing. - -"That's the devil of it. I think, if I were you, I should hark back -upon some place in Ireland. Couldn't you get Laurence to give you up -his seat?" - -"What! Fitzgibbon?" - -"Yes. He has not a ghost of a chance of getting into office again. -Nothing on earth would induce him to look at a paper during all those -weeks he was at the Colonial Office; and when Cantrip spoke to him, -all he said was, 'Ah, bother!' Cantrip did not like it, I can tell -you." - -"But that wouldn't make him give up his seat." - -"Of course you'd have to arrange it." By which Phineas understood -Barrington Erle to mean that he, Phineas, was in some way to give to -Laurence Fitzgibbon some adequate compensation for the surrender of -his position as a county member. - -"I'm afraid that's out of the question," said Phineas. "If he were to -go, I should not get it." - -"Would you have a chance at Loughshane?" - -"I was thinking of trying it," said Phineas. - -"Of course you know that Morris is very ill." This Mr. Morris was -the brother of Lord Tulla, and was the sitting member of Loughshane. -"Upon my word I think I should try that. I don't see where we're to -put our hands on a seat in England. I don't indeed." Phineas, as -he listened to this, could not help thinking that Barrington Erle, -though he had certainly expressed a great deal of solicitude, was not -as true a friend as he used to be. Perhaps he, Phineas, had risen too -fast, and Barrington Erle was beginning to think that he might as -well be out of the way. - -He wrote to his father, asking after the borough, and asking after -the health of Mr. Morris. And in his letter he told his own story -very plainly,--almost pathetically. He perhaps had been wrong to -make the attempt which he had made. He began to believe that he had -been wrong. But at any rate he had made it so far successfully, and -failure now would be doubly bitter. He thought that the party to -which he belonged must now remain in office. It would hardly be -possible that a new election would produce a House of Commons -favourable to a conservative ministry. And with a liberal ministry -he, Phineas, would be sure of his place, and sure of an official -income,--if only he could find a seat. It was all very true, and was -almost pathetic. The old doctor, who was inclined to be proud of his -son, was not unwilling to make a sacrifice. Mrs. Finn declared before -her daughters that if there was a seat in all Ireland, Phineas ought -to have it. And Mary Flood Jones stood by listening, and wondering -what Phineas would do if he lost his seat. Would he come back and -live in County Clare, and be like any other girl's lover? Poor Mary -had come to lose her ambition, and to think that girls whose lovers -stayed at home were the happiest. Nevertheless, she would have walked -all the way to Lord Tulla's house and back again, might that have -availed to get the seat for Phineas. Then there came an express over -from Castlemorris. The doctor was wanted at once to see Mr. Morris. -Mr. Morris was very bad with gout in his stomach. According to the -messenger it was supposed that Mr. Morris was dying. Before Dr. Finn -had had an opportunity of answering his son's letter, Mr. Morris, the -late member for Loughshane, had been gathered to his fathers. - -Dr. Finn understood enough of elections for Parliament, and of the -nature of boroughs, to be aware that a candidate's chance of success -is very much improved by being early in the field; and he was aware, -also, that the death of Mr. Morris would probably create various -aspirants for the honour of representing Loughshane. But he could -hardly address the Earl on the subject while the dead body of the -late member was lying in the house at Castlemorris. The bill which -had passed in the late session for reforming the constitution of the -House of Commons had not touched Ireland, a future measure having -been promised to the Irish for their comfort; and Loughshane -therefore was, as to Lord Tulla's influence, the same as it had ever -been. He had not there the plenary power which the other lord had -held in his hands in regard to Loughton;--but still the Castlemorris -interest would go a long way. It might be possible to stand against -it, but it would be much more desirable that the candidate should -have it at his back. Dr. Finn was fully alive to this as he sat -opposite to the old lord, saying now a word about the old lord's gout -in his legs and arms, and then about the gout in the stomach, which -had carried away to another world the lamented late member for the -borough. - -"Poor Jack!" said Lord Tulla, piteously. "If I'd known it, I needn't -have paid over two thousand pounds for him last year;--need I, -doctor?" - -"No, indeed," said Dr. Finn, feeling that his patient might perhaps -approach the subject of the borough himself. - -"He never would live by any rule, you know," said the desolate -brother. - -"Very hard to guide;--was he not, my lord?" - -"The very devil. Now, you see, I do do what I'm told pretty -well,--don't I, doctor?" - -"Sometimes." - -"By George, I do nearly always. I don't know what you mean by -sometimes. I've been drinking brandy-and-water till I'm sick of it, -to oblige you, and you tell me about--sometimes. You doctors expect -a man to be a slave. Haven't I kept it out of my stomach?" - -"Thank God, yes." - -"It's all very well thanking God, but I should have gone as poor Jack -has gone, if I hadn't been the most careful man in the world. He was -drinking champagne ten days ago;--would do it, you know." Lord Tulla -could talk about himself and his own ailments by the hour together, -and Dr. Finn, who had thought that his noble patient was approaching -the subject of the borough, was beginning again to feel that the -double interest of the gout that was present, and the gout that had -passed away, would be too absorbing. He, however, could say but -little to direct the conversation. - -"Mr. Morris, you see, lived more in London than you do, and was -subject to temptation." - -"I don't know what you call temptation. Haven't I the temptation of a -bottle of wine under my nose every day of my life?" - -"No doubt you have." - -"And I don't drink it. I hardly ever take above a glass or two of -brown sherry. By George! when I think of it, I wonder at my own -courage. I do, indeed." - -"But a man in London, my lord--" - -"Why the deuce would he go to London? By-the-bye, what am I to do -about the borough now?" - -"Let my son stand for it, if you will, my lord." - -"They've clean swept away Brentford's seat at Loughton, haven't they? -Ha, ha, ha! What a nice game for him,--to have been forced to help to -do it himself! There's nobody on earth I pity so much as a radical -peer who is obliged to work like a nigger with a spade to shovel away -the ground from under his own feet. As for me, I don't care who sits -for Loughshane. I did care for poor Jack while he was alive. I don't -think I shall interfere any longer. I am glad it lasted Jack's time." -Lord Tulla had probably already forgotten that he himself had thrown -Jack over for the last session but one. - -"Phineas, my lord," began the father, "is now Under-Secretary of -State." - -"Oh, I've no doubt he's a very fine fellow;--but you see, he's an -out-and-out Radical." - -"No, my lord." - -"Then how can he serve with such men as Mr. Gresham and Mr. Monk? -They've turned out poor old Mildmay among them, because he's not fast -enough for them. Don't tell me." - -"My anxiety, of course, is for my boy's prospects. He seems to have -done so well in Parliament." - -"Why don't he stand for Marylebone or Finsbury?" - -"The money, you know, my lord!" - -"I shan't interfere here, doctor. If he comes, and the people then -choose to return him, I shall say nothing. They may do just as they -please. They tell me Lambert St. George, of Mockrath, is going to -stand. If he does, it's the d---- piece of impudence I ever heard -of. He's a tenant of my own, though he has a lease for ever; and -his father never owned an acre of land in the county till his uncle -died." Then the doctor knew that, with a little management, the -lord's interest might be secured for his son. - -Phineas came over and stood for the borough against Mr. Lambert -St. George, and the contest was sharp enough. The gentry of the -neighbourhood could not understand why such a man as Lord Tulla -should admit a liberal candidate to succeed his brother. No one -canvassed for the young Under-Secretary with more persistent zeal -than did his father, who, when Phineas first spoke of going into -Parliament, had produced so many good arguments against that perilous -step. Lord Tulla's agent stood aloof,--desolate with grief at the -death of the late member. At such a moment of family affliction, Lord -Tulla, he declared, could not think of such a matter as the borough. -But it was known that Lord Tulla was dreadfully jealous of Mr. -Lambert St. George, whose property in that part of the county was now -nearly equal to his own, and who saw much more company at Mockrath -than was ever entertained at Castlemorris. A word from Lord -Tulla,--so said the Conservatives of the county,--would have put -Mr. St. George into the seat; but that word was not spoken, and -the Conservatives of the neighbourhood swore that Lord Tulla was a -renegade. The contest was very sharp, but our hero was returned by a -majority of seventeen votes. - -Again successful! As he thought of it he remembered stories of great -generals who were said to have chained Fortune to the wheels of their -chariots, but it seemed to him that the goddess had never served -any general with such staunch obedience as she had displayed in his -cause. Had not everything gone well with him;--so well, as almost to -justify him in expecting that even yet Violet Effingham would become -his wife? Dear, dearest Violet! If he could only achieve that, no -general, who ever led an army across the Alps, would be his equal -either in success or in the reward of success. Then he questioned -himself as to what he would say to Miss Flood Jones on that very -night. He was to meet dear little Mary Flood Jones that evening at a -neighbour's house. His sister Barbara had so told him in a tone of -voice which he quite understood to imply a caution. "I shall be so -glad to see her," Phineas had replied. - -"If there ever was an angel on earth, it is Mary," said Barbara Finn. - -"I know that she is as good as gold," said Phineas. - -"Gold!" replied Barbara,--"gold indeed! She is more precious than -refined gold. But, Phineas, perhaps you had better not single her out -for any special attention. She has thought it wisest to meet you." - -"Of course," said Phineas. "Why not?" - -"That is all, Phineas. I have nothing more to say. Men of course are -different from girls." - -"That's true, Barbara, at any rate." - -"Don't laugh at me, Phineas, when I am thinking of nothing but of you -and your interests, and when I am making all manner of excuses for -you because I know what must be the distractions of the world in -which you live." Barbara made more than one attempt to renew the -conversation before the evening came, but Phineas thought that he had -had enough of it. He did not like being told that excuses were made -for him. After all, what had he done? He had once kissed Mary Flood -Jones behind the door. - -"I am so glad to see you, Mary," he said, coming and taking a chair -by her side. He had been specially warned not to single Mary out for -his attention, and yet there was the chair left vacant as though it -were expected that he would fall into it. - -"Thank you. We did not happen to meet last year, did we,--Mr. Finn?" - -"Do not call me Mr. Finn, Mary." - -"You are such a great man now!" - -"Not at all a great man. If you only knew what little men we -understrappers are in London you would hardly speak to me." - -"But you are something--of State now;--are you not?" - -"Well;--yes. That's the name they give me. It simply means that if -any member wants to badger some one in the House about the Colonies, -I am the man to be badgered. But if there is any credit to be had, I -am not the man who is to have it." - -"But it is a great thing to be in Parliament and in the Government -too." - -"It is a great thing for me, Mary, to have a salary, though it may -only be for a year or two. However, I will not deny that it is -pleasant to have been successful." - -"It has been very pleasant to us, Phineas. Mamma has been so much -rejoiced." - -"I am so sorry not to see her. She is at Floodborough, I suppose." - -"Oh, yes;--she is at home. She does not like coming out at night in -winter. I have been staying here you know for two days, but I go home -to-morrow." - -"I will ride over and call on your mother." Then there was a pause in -the conversation for a moment. "Does it not seem odd, Mary, that we -should see so little of each other?" - -"You are so much away, of course." - -"Yes;--that is the reason. But still it seems almost unnatural. I -often wonder when the time will come that I shall be quietly at home -again. I have to be back in my office in London this day week, and -yet I have not had a single hour to myself since I have been at -Killaloe. But I will certainly ride over and see your mother. You -will be at home on Wednesday I suppose." - -"Yes,--I shall be at home." - -Upon that he got up and went away, but again in the evening he found -himself near her. Perhaps there is no position more perilous to a -man's honesty than that in which Phineas now found himself;--that, -namely, of knowing himself to be quite loved by a girl whom he almost -loves himself. Of course he loved Violet Effingham; and they who talk -best of love protest that no man or woman can be in love with two -persons at once. Phineas was not in love with Mary Flood Jones; but -he would have liked to take her in his arms and kiss her;--he would -have liked to gratify her by swearing that she was dearer to him than -all the world; he would have liked to have an episode,--and did, -at the moment, think that it might be possible to have one life in -London and another life altogether different at Killaloe. "Dear -Mary," he said as he pressed her hand that night, "things will get -themselves settled at last, I suppose." He was behaving very ill to -her, but he did not mean to behave ill. - -He rode over to Floodborough, and saw Mrs. Flood Jones. Mrs. Flood -Jones, however, received him very coldly; and Mary did not appear. -Mary had communicated to her mother her resolutions as to her future -life. "The fact is, mamma, I love him. I cannot help it. If he ever -chooses to come for me, here I am. If he does not, I will bear it as -well as I can. It may be very mean of me, but it's true." - - - - -CHAPTER LI - -Troubles at Loughlinter - - -There was a dull house at Loughlinter during the greater part of -this autumn. A few men went down for the grouse shooting late in the -season; but they stayed but a short time, and when they went Lady -Laura was left alone with her husband. Mr. Kennedy had explained to -his wife, more than once, that though he understood the duties of -hospitality and enjoyed the performance of them, he had not married -with the intention of living in a whirlwind. He was disposed to think -that the whirlwind had hitherto been too predominant, and had said so -very plainly with a good deal of marital authority. This autumn and -winter were to be devoted to the cultivation of proper relations -between him and his wife. "Does that mean Darby and Joan?" his wife -had asked him, when the proposition was made to her. "It means mutual -regard and esteem," replied Mr. Kennedy in his most solemn tone, -"and I trust that such mutual regard and esteem between us may yet -be possible." When Lady Laura showed him a letter from her brother, -received some weeks after this conversation, in which Lord Chiltern -expressed his intention of coming to Loughlinter for Christmas, he -returned the note to his wife without a word. He suspected that she -had made the arrangement without asking him, and was angry; but he -would not tell her that her brother would not be welcome at his -house. "It is not my doing," she said, when she saw the frown on his -brow. - -"I said nothing about anybody's doing," he replied. - -"I will write to Oswald and bid him not come, if you wish it. Of -course you can understand why he is coming." - -"Not to see me, I am sure," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"Nor me," replied Lady Laura. "He is coming because my friend Violet -Effingham will be here." - -"Miss Effingham! Why was I not told of this? I knew nothing of Miss -Effingham's coming." - -"Robert, it was settled in your own presence last July." - -"I deny it." - -Then Lady Laura rose up, very haughty in her gait and with something -of fire in her eye, and silently left the room. Mr. Kennedy, when he -found himself alone, was very unhappy. Looking back in his mind to -the summer weeks in London, he remembered that his wife had told -Violet that she was to spend her Christmas at Loughlinter, that he -himself had given a muttered assent and that Violet,--as far as he -could remember,--had made no reply. It had been one of those things -which are so often mentioned, but not settled. He felt that he had -been strictly right in denying that it had been "settled" in his -presence;--but yet he felt that he had been wrong in contradicting -his wife so peremptorily. He was a just man, and he would apologise -for his fault; but he was an austere man, and would take back the -value of his apology in additional austerity. He did not see his wife -for some hours after the conversation which has been narrated, but -when he did meet her his mind was still full of the subject. "Laura", -he said, "I am sorry that I contradicted you." - -"I am quite used to it, Robert." - -"No;--you are not used to it." She smiled and bowed her head. "You -wrong me by saying that you are used to it." Then he paused a moment, -but she said not a word,--only smiled and bowed her head again. "I -remember," he continued, "that something was said in my presence to -Miss Effingham about her coming here at Christmas. It was so slight, -however, that it had passed out of my memory till recalled by an -effort. I beg your pardon." - -"That is unnecessary, Robert." - -"It is, dear." - -"And do you wish that I should put her off,--or put Oswald off,--or -both? My brother never yet has seen me in your house." - -"And whose fault has that been?" - -"I have said nothing about anybody's fault, Robert. I merely -mentioned a fact. Will you let me know whether I shall bid him stay -away?" - -"He is welcome to come,--only I do not like assignations for -love-making." - -"Assignations!" - -"Clandestine meetings. Lady Baldock would not wish it." - -"Lady Baldock! Do you think that Violet would exercise any secrecy in -the matter,--or that she will not tell Lady Baldock that Oswald will -be here,--as soon as she knows it herself?" - -"That has nothing to do with it." - -"Surely, Robert, it must have much to do with it. And why should not -these two young people meet? The acknowledged wish of all the family -is that they should marry each other. And in this matter, at any -rate, my brother has behaved extremely well." Mr. Kennedy said -nothing further at the time, and it became an understanding that -Violet Effingham was to be a month at Loughlinter, staying from the -20th of December to the 20th of January, and that Lord Chiltern was -to come there for Christmas,--which with him would probably mean -three days. - -Before Christmas came, however, there were various other sources of -uneasiness at Loughlinter. There had been, as a matter of course, -great anxiety as to the elections. With Lady Laura this anxiety had -been very strong, and even Mr. Kennedy had been warmed with some -amount of fire as the announcements reached him of the successes -and of the failures. The English returns came first,--and then -the Scotch, which were quite as interesting to Mr. Kennedy as the -English. His own seat was quite safe,--was not contested; but some -neighbouring seats were sources of great solicitude. Then, when this -was over, there were the tidings from Ireland to be received; and -respecting one special borough in Ireland, Lady Laura evinced more -solicitude than her husband approved. There was much danger for the -domestic bliss of the house of Loughlinter, when things came to such -a pass, and such words were spoken, as the election at Loughshane -produced. - -"He is in," said Lady Laura, opening a telegram. - -"Who is in?" said Mr. Kennedy, with that frown on his brow to which -his wife was now well accustomed. Though he asked the question, he -knew very well who was the hero to whom the telegram referred. - -"Our friend Phineas Finn," said Lady Laura, speaking still with an -excited voice,--with a voice that was intended to display excitement. -If there was to be a battle on this matter, there should be a battle. -She would display all her anxiety for her young friend, and fling -it in her husband's face if he chose to take it as an injury. -What,--should she endure reproach from her husband because she -regarded the interests of the man who had saved his life, of the man -respecting whom she had suffered so many heart-struggles, and as to -whom she had at last come to the conclusion that he should ever be -regarded as a second brother, loved equally with the elder brother? -She had done her duty by her husband,--so at least she had assured -herself;--and should he dare to reproach her on this subject, she -would be ready for the battle. And now the battle came. "I am glad -of this," she said, with all the eagerness she could throw into her -voice. "I am, indeed,--and so ought you to be." The husband's brow -grew blacker and blacker, but still he said nothing. He had long -been too proud to be jealous, and was now too proud to express his -jealousy,--if only he could keep the expression back. But his wife -would not leave the subject. "I am so thankful for this," she said, -pressing the telegram between her hands. "I was so afraid he would -fail!" - -"You over-do your anxiety on such a subject," at last he said, -speaking very slowly. - -"What do you mean, Robert? How can I be over-anxious? If it concerned -any other dear friend that I have in the world, it would not be an -affair of life and death. To him it is almost so. I would have walked -from here to London to get him his election." And as she spoke she -held up the clenched fist of her left hand, and shook it, while she -still held the telegram in her right hand. - -"Laura, I must tell you that it is improper that you should speak -of any man in those terms;--of any man that is a stranger to your -blood." - -"A stranger to my blood! What has that to do with it? This man is my -friend, is your friend;--saved your life, has been my brother's best -friend, is loved by my father,--and is loved by me, very dearly. Tell -me what you mean by improper!" - -"I will not have you love any man,--very dearly." - -"Robert!" - -"I tell you that I will have no such expressions from you. They are -unseemly, and are used only to provoke me." - -"Am I to understand that I am insulted by an accusation? If so, let -me beg at once that I may be allowed to go to Saulsby. I would rather -accept your apology and retractation there than here." - -"You will not go to Saulsby, and there has been no accusation, and -there will be no apology. If you please there will be no more mention -of Mr. Finn's name between us, for the present. If you will take my -advice you will cease to think of him extravagantly;--and I must -desire you to hold no further direct communication with him." - -"I have held no communication with him," said Lady Laura, advancing a -step towards him. But Mr. Kennedy simply pointed to the telegram in -her hand, and left the room. Now in respect to this telegram there -had been an unfortunate mistake. I am not prepared to say that there -was any reason why Phineas himself should not have sent the news of -his success to Lady Laura; but he had not done so. The piece of paper -which she still held crushed in her hand was in itself very innocent. -"Hurrah for the Loughshanes. Finny has done the trick." Such were -the words written on the slip, and they had been sent to Lady Laura -by her young cousin, the clerk in the office who acted as private -secretary to the Under-Secretary of State. Lady Laura resolved that -her husband should never see those innocent but rather undignified -words. The occasion had become one of importance, and such words were -unworthy of it. Besides, she would not condescend to defend herself -by bringing forward a telegram as evidence in her favour. So she -burned the morsel of paper. - -Lady Laura and Mr. Kennedy did not meet again till late that evening. -She was ill, she said, and would not come down to dinner. After -dinner she wrote him a note. "Dear Robert, I think you must regret -what you said to me. If so, pray let me have a line from you to that -effect. Yours affectionately, L." When the servant handed it to him, -and he had read it, he smiled and thanked the girl who had brought -it, and said he would see her mistress just now. Anything would be -better than that the servants should know that there was a quarrel. -But every servant in the house had known all about it for the last -three hours. When the door was closed and he was alone, he sat -fingering the note, thinking deeply how he should answer it, or -whether he would answer it at all. No; he would not answer it;--not -in writing. He would give his wife no written record of his -humiliation. He had not acted wrongly. He had said nothing more than -now, upon mature consideration, he thought that the circumstances -demanded. But yet he felt that he must in some sort withdraw the -accusation which he had made. If he did not withdraw it, there was no -knowing what his wife might do. About ten in the evening he went up -to her and made his little speech. "My dear, I have come to answer -your note." - -"I thought you would have written to me a line." - -"I have come instead, Laura. Now, if you will listen to me for one -moment, I think everything will be made smooth." - -"Of course I will listen," said Lady Laura, knowing very well that -her husband's moment would be rather tedious, and resolving that she -also would have her moment afterwards. - -"I think you will acknowledge that if there be a difference of -opinion between you and me as to any question of social intercourse, -it will be better that you should consent to adopt my opinion." - -"You have the law on your side." - -"I am not speaking of the law." - -"Well;--go on, Robert. I will not interrupt you if I can help it." - -"I am not speaking of the law. I am speaking simply of convenience, -and of that which you must feel to be right. If I wish that your -intercourse with any person should be of such or such a nature it -must be best that you should comply with my wishes." He paused for -her assent, but she neither assented nor dissented. "As far as I can -understand the position of a man and wife in this country, there is -no other way in which life can be made harmonious." - -"Life will not run in harmonies." - -"I expect that ours shall be made to do so, Laura. I need hardly say -to you that I intend to accuse you of no impropriety of feeling in -reference to this young man." - -"No, Robert; you need hardly say that. Indeed, to speak my own mind, -I think that you need hardly have alluded to it. I might go further, -and say that such an allusion is in itself an insult,--an insult now -repeated after hours of deliberation,--an insult which I will not -endure to have repeated again. If you say another word in any way -suggesting the possibility of improper relations between me and Mr. -Finn, either as to deeds or thoughts, as God is above me, I will -write to both my father and my brother, and desire them to take me -from your house. If you wish me to remain here, you had better be -careful!" As she was making this speech, her temper seemed to rise, -and to become hot, and then hotter, till it glowed with a red heat. -She had been cool till the word insult, used by herself, had conveyed -back to her a strong impression of her own wrong,--or perhaps I -should rather say a strong feeling of the necessity of becoming -indignant. She was standing as she spoke, and the fire flashed from -her eyes, and he quailed before her. The threat which she had held -out to him was very dreadful to him. He was a man terribly in fear -of the world's good opinion, who lacked the courage to go through a -great and harassing trial in order that something better might come -afterwards. His married life had been unhappy. His wife had not -submitted either to his will or to his ways. He had that great desire -to enjoy his full rights, so strong in the minds of weak, ambitious -men, and he had told himself that a wife's obedience was one of those -rights which he could not abandon without injury to his self-esteem. -He had thought about the matter, slowly, as was his wont, and had -resolved that he would assert himself. He had asserted himself, and -his wife told him to his face that she would go away and leave him. -He could detain her legally, but he could not do even that without -the fact of such forcible detention being known to all the world. -How was he to answer her now at this moment, so that she might not -write to her father, and so that his self-assertion might still be -maintained? - -"Passion, Laura, can never be right." - -"Would you have a woman submit to insult without passion? I at any -rate am not such a woman." Then there was a pause for a moment. "If -you have nothing else to say to me, you had better leave me. I am far -from well, and my head is throbbing." - -He came up and took her hand, but she snatched it away from him. -"Laura," he said, "do not let us quarrel." - -"I certainly shall quarrel if such insinuations are repeated." - -"I made no insinuation." - -"Do not repeat them. That is all." - -He was cowed and left her, having first attempted to get out of the -difficulty of his position by making much of her alleged illness, and -by offering to send for Dr. Macnuthrie. She positively refused to see -Dr. Macnuthrie, and at last succeeded in inducing him to quit the -room. - -This had occurred about the end of November, and on the 20th of -December Violet Effingham reached Loughlinter. Life in Mr. Kennedy's -house had gone quietly during the intervening three weeks, but not -very pleasantly. The name of Phineas Finn had not been mentioned. -Lady Laura had triumphed; but she had no desire to acerbate her -husband by any unpalatable allusion to her victory. And he was quite -willing to let the subject die away, if only it would die. On some -other matters he continued to assert himself, taking his wife to -church twice every Sunday, using longer family prayers than she -approved, reading an additional sermon himself every Sunday evening, -calling upon her for weekly attention to elaborate household -accounts, asking for her personal assistance in much local visiting, -initiating her into his favourite methods of family life in the -country, till sometimes she almost longed to talk again about Phineas -Finn, so that there might be a rupture, and she might escape. But her -husband asserted himself within bounds, and she submitted, longing -for the coming of Violet Effingham. She could not write to her father -and beg to be taken away, because her husband would read a sermon to -her on Sunday evening. - -To Violet, very shortly after her arrival, she told her whole story. -"This is terrible," said Violet. "This makes me feel that I never -will be married." - -"And yet what can a woman become if she remain single? The curse is -to be a woman at all." - -"I have always felt so proud of the privileges of my sex," said -Violet. - -"I never have found them," said the other; "never. I have tried to -make the best of its weaknesses, and this is what I have come to! I -suppose I ought to have loved some man." - -"And did you never love any man?" - -"No;--I think I never did,--not as people mean when they speak of -love. I have felt that I would consent to be cut in little pieces for -my brother,--because of my regard for him." - -"Ah, that is nothing." - -"And I have felt something of the same thing for another,--a longing -for his welfare, a delight to hear him praised, a charm in his -presence,--so strong a feeling for his interest, that were he to go -to wrack and ruin, I too, should, after a fashion, be wracked and -ruined. But it has not been love either." - -"Do I know whom you mean? May I name him? It is Phineas Finn." - -"Of course it is Phineas Finn." - -"Did he ever ask you,--to love him?" - -"I feared he would do so, and therefore accepted Mr. Kennedy's offer -almost at the first word." - -"I do not quite understand your reasoning, Laura." - -"I understand it. I could have refused him nothing in my power to -give him, but I did not wish to be his wife." - -"And he never asked you?" - -Lady Laura paused a moment, thinking what reply she should make;--and -then she told a fib. "No; he never asked me." But Violet did not -believe the fib. Violet was quite sure that Phineas had asked Lady -Laura Standish to be his wife. "As far as I can see," said Violet, -"Madame Max Goesler is his present passion." - -"I do not believe it in the least," said Lady Laura, firing up. - -"It does not much matter," said Violet. - -"It would matter very much. You know, you,--you; you know whom he -loves. And I do believe that sooner or later you will be his wife." - -"Never." - -"Yes, you will. Had you not loved him you would never have -condescended to accuse him about that woman." - -"I have not accused him. Why should he not marry Madame Max Goesler? -It would be just the thing for him. She is very rich." - -"Never. You will be his wife." - -"Laura, you are the most capricious of women. You have two dear -friends, and you insist that I shall marry them both. Which shall I -take first?" - -"Oswald will be here in a day or two, and you can take him if you -like it. No doubt he will ask you. But I do not think you will." - -"No; I do not think I shall. I shall knock under to Mr. Mill, and -go in for women's rights, and look forward to stand for some female -borough. Matrimony never seemed to me to be very charming, and -upon my word it does not become more alluring by what I find at -Loughlinter." - -It was thus that Violet and Lady Laura discussed these matters -together, but Violet had never showed to her friend the cards in her -hand, as Lady Laura had shown those which she held. Lady Laura had -in fact told almost everything that there was to tell,--had spoken -either plainly with true words, or equally plainly with words that -were not true. Violet Effingham had almost come to love Phineas -Finn;--but she never told her friend that it was so. At one time -she had almost made up her mind to give herself and all her wealth -to this adventurer. He was a better man, she thought, than Lord -Chiltern; and she had come to persuade herself that it was almost -imperative on her to take the one or the other. Though she could -talk about remaining unmarried, she knew that that was practically -impossible. All those around her,--those of the Baldock as well as -those of the Brentford faction,--would make such a life impossible -to her. Besides, in such a case what could she do? It was all very -well to talk of disregarding the world and of setting up a house for -herself;--but she was quite aware that that project could not be used -further than for the purpose of scaring her amiable aunt. And if not -that,--then could she content herself to look forward to a joint life -with Lady Baldock and Augusta Boreham? She might, of course, oblige -her aunt by taking Lord Fawn, or oblige her aunt equally by taking -Mr. Appledom; but she was strongly of opinion that either Lord -Chiltern or Phineas would be preferable to these. Thinking over it -always she had come to feel that it must be either Lord Chiltern or -Phineas; but she had never whispered her thought to man or woman. On -her journey to Loughlinter, where she then knew that she was to meet -Lord Chiltern, she endeavoured to persuade herself that it should be -Phineas. But Lady Laura had marred it all by that ill-told fib. There -had been a moment before in which Violet had felt that Phineas had -sacrificed something of that truth of love for which she gave him -credit to the glances of Madame Goesler's eyes; but she had rebuked -herself for the idea, accusing herself not only of a little jealousy, -but of foolish vanity. Was he, whom she had rejected, not to speak to -another woman? Then came the blow from Lady Laura, and Violet knew -that it was a blow. This gallant lover, this young Crichton, this -unassuming but ardent lover, had simply taken up with her as soon as -he had failed with her friend. Lady Laura had been most enthusiastic -in her expressions of friendship. Such platonic regards might be all -very well. It was for Mr. Kennedy to look to that. But, for herself, -she felt that such expressions were hardly compatible with her ideas -of having her lover all to herself. And then she again remembered -Madame Goesler's bright blue eyes. - -Lord Chiltern came on Christmas eve, and was received with open arms -by his sister, and with that painful, irritating affection which -such a girl as Violet can show to such a man as Lord Chiltern, when -she will not give him that other affection for which his heart is -panting. The two men were civil to each other,--but very cold. They -called each other Kennedy and Chiltern, but even that was not done -without an effort. On the Christmas morning Mr. Kennedy asked his -brother-in-law to go to church. "It's a kind of thing I never do," -said Lord Chiltern. Mr. Kennedy gave a little start, and looked a -look of horror. Lady Laura showed that she was unhappy. Violet -Effingham turned away her face, and smiled. - -As they walked across the park Violet took Lord Chiltern's part. "He -only means that he does not go to church on Christmas day." - -"I don't know what he means," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"We need not speak of it," said Lady Laura. - -"Certainly not," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"I have been to church with him on Sundays myself," said Violet, -perhaps not reflecting that the practices of early years had little -to do with the young man's life at present. - -Christmas day and the next day passed without any sign from Lord -Chiltern, and on the day after that he was to go away. But he was not -to leave till one or two in the afternoon. Not a word had been said -between the two women, since he had been in the house, on the subject -of which both of them were thinking. Very much had been said of -the expediency of his going to Saulsby, but on this matter he had -declined to make any promise. Sitting in Lady Laura's room, in the -presence of both of them, he had refused to do so. "I am bad to -drive," he said, turning to Violet, "and you had better not try to -drive me." - -"Why should not you be driven as well as another?" she answered, -laughing. - - - - -CHAPTER LII - -The First Blow - - -Lord Chiltern, though he had passed two entire days in the house with -Violet without renewing his suit, had come to Loughlinter for the -express purpose of doing so, and had his plans perfectly fixed in his -own mind. After breakfast on that last morning he was up-stairs with -his sister in her own room, and immediately made his request to her. -"Laura," he said, "go down like a good girl, and make Violet come up -here." She stood a moment looking at him and smiled. "And, mind," he -continued, "you are not to come back yourself. I must have Violet -alone." - -"But suppose Violet will not come? Young ladies do not generally wait -upon young men on such occasions." - -"No;--but I rank her so high among young women, that I think she will -have common sense enough to teach her that, after what has passed -between us, I have a right to ask for an interview, and that it may -be more conveniently had here than in the wilderness of the house -below." - -Whatever may have been the arguments used by her friend, Violet did -come. She reached the door all alone, and opened it bravely. She had -promised herself, as she came along the passages, that she would not -pause with her hand on the lock for a moment. She had first gone to -her own room, and as she left it she had looked into the glass with -a hurried glance, and had then rested for a moment,--thinking that -something should be done, that her hair might be smoothed, or a -ribbon set straight, or the chain arranged under her brooch. A girl -would wish to look well before her lover, even when she means to -refuse him. But her pause was but for an instant, and then she went -on, having touched nothing. She shook her head and pressed her hands -together, and went on quick and opened the door,--almost with a -little start. "Violet, this is very good of you," said Lord Chiltern, -standing with his back to the fire, and not moving from the spot. - -"Laura has told me that you thought I would do as much as this for -you, and therefore I have done it." - -"Thanks, dearest. It is the old story, Violet, and I am so bad at -words!" - -"I must have been bad at words too, as I have not been able to make -you understand." - -"I think I have understood. You are always clear-spoken, and I, -though I cannot talk, am not muddle-pated. I have understood. But -while you are single there must be yet hope;--unless, indeed, you -will tell me that you have already given yourself to another man." - -"I have not done that." - -"Then how can I not hope? Violet, I would if I could tell you all my -feelings plainly. Once, twice, thrice, I have said to myself that I -would think of you no more. I have tried to persuade myself that I am -better single than married." - -"But I am not the only woman." - -"To me you are,--absolutely, as though there were none other on the -face of God's earth. I live much alone; but you are always with me. -Should you marry any other man, it will be the same with me still. If -you refuse me now I shall go away,--and live wildly." - -"Oswald, what do you mean?" - -"I mean that I will go to some distant part of the world, where I -may be killed or live a life of adventure. But I shall do so simply -in despair. It will not be that I do not know how much better and -greater should be the life at home of a man in my position." - -"Then do not talk of going." - -"I cannot stay. You will acknowledge, Violet, that I have never lied -to you. I am thinking of you day and night. The more indifferent you -show yourself to me, the more I love you. Violet, try to love me." He -came up to her, and took her by both her hands, and tears were in his -eyes. "Say you will try to love me." - -"It is not that," said Violet, looking away, but still leaving her -hands with him. - -"It is not what, dear?" - -"What you call,--trying." - -"It is that you do not wish to try?" - -"Oswald, you are so violent, so headstrong. I am afraid of you,--as -is everybody. Why have you not written to your father, as we have -asked you?" - -"I will write to him instantly, now, before I leave the room, and -you shall dictate the letter to him. By heavens, you shall!" He had -dropped her hands when she called him violent; but now he took them -again, and still she permitted it. "I have postponed it only till I -had spoken to you once again." - -"No, Lord Chiltern, I will not dictate to you." - -"But will you love me?" She paused and looked down, having even now -not withdrawn her hands from him. But I do not think he knew how much -he had gained. "You used to love me,--a little," he said. - -"Indeed,--indeed, I did." - -"And now? Is it all changed now?" - -"No," she said, retreating from him. - -"How is it, then? Violet, speak to me honestly. Will you be my wife?" -She did not answer him, and he stood for a moment looking at her. -Then he rushed at her, and, seizing her in his arms, kissed her all -over,--her forehead, her lips, her cheeks, then both her hands, and -then her lips again. "By G----, she is my own!" he said. Then he went -back to the rug before the fire, and stood there with his back turned -to her. Violet, when she found herself thus deserted, retreated to -a sofa, and sat herself down. She had no negative to produce now in -answer to the violent assertion which he had pronounced as to his -own success. It was true. She had doubted, and doubted,--and still -doubted. But now she must doubt no longer. Of one thing she was quite -sure. She could love him. As things had now gone, she would make -him quite happy with assurances on that subject. As to that other -question,--that fearful question, whether or not she could trust -him,--on that matter she had better at present say nothing, and -think as little, perhaps, as might be. She had taken the jump, and -therefore why should she not be gracious to him? But how was she to -be gracious to a lover who stood there with his back turned to her? - -After the interval of a minute or two he remembered himself, and -turned round. Seeing her seated, he approached her, and went down on -both knees close at her feet. Then he took her hands again, for the -third time, and looked up into her eyes. - -"Oswald, you on your knees!" she said. - -"I would not bend to a princess," he said, "to ask for half her -throne; but I will kneel here all day, if you will let me, in thanks -for the gift of your love. I never kneeled to beg for it." - -"This is the man who cannot make speeches." - -"I think I could talk now by the hour, with you for a listener." - -"Oh, but I must talk too." - -"What will you say to me?" - -"Nothing while you are kneeling. It is not natural that you should -kneel. You are like Samson with his locks shorn, or Hercules with a -distaff." - -"Is that better?" he said, as he got up and put his arm round her -waist. - -"You are in earnest?" she asked. - -"In earnest. I hardly thought that that would be doubted. Do you not -believe me?" - -"I do believe you. And you will be good?" - -"Ah,--I do not know that." - -"Try, and I will love you so dearly. Nay, I do love you dearly. I do. -I do." - -"Say it again." - -"I will say it fifty times,--till your ears are weary with it";--and -she did say it to him, after her own fashion, fifty times. - -"This is a great change," he said, getting up after a while and -walking about the room. - -"But a change for the better;--is it not, Oswald?" - -"So much for the better that I hardly know myself in my new joy. But, -Violet, we'll have no delay,--will we? No shilly-shallying. What is -the use of waiting now that it's settled?" - -"None in the least, Lord Chiltern. Let us say,--this day -twelvemonth." - -"You are laughing at me, Violet." - -"Remember, sir, that the first thing you have to do is to write to -your father." - -He instantly went to the writing-table and took up paper and pen. -"Come along," he said. "You are to dictate it." But this she refused -to do, telling him that he must write his letter to his father out of -his own head, and out of his own heart. "I cannot write it," he said, -throwing down the pen. "My blood is in such a tumult that I cannot -steady my hand." - -"You must not be so tumultuous, Oswald, or I shall have to live in a -whirlwind." - -"Oh, I shall shake down. I shall become as steady as an old stager. -I'll go as quiet in harness by-and-by as though I had been broken -to it a four-year-old. I wonder whether Laura could not write this -letter." - -"I think you should write it yourself, Oswald." - -"If you bid me I will." - -"Bid you indeed! As if it was for me to bid you. Do you not know that -in these new troubles you are undertaking you will have to bid me in -everything, and that I shall be bound to do your bidding? Does it not -seem to be dreadful? My wonder is that any girl can ever accept any -man." - -"But you have accepted me now." - -"Yes, indeed." - -"And you repent?" - -"No, indeed, and I will try to do your biddings;--but you must not be -rough to me, and outrageous, and fierce,--will you, Oswald?" - -"I will not at any rate be like Kennedy is with poor Laura." - -"No;--that is not your nature." - -"I will do my best, dearest. And you may at any rate be sure of this, -that I will love you always. So much good of myself, if it be good, I -can say." - -"It is very good," she answered; "the best of all good words. And now -I must go. And as you are leaving Loughlinter I will say good-bye. -When am I to have the honour and felicity of beholding your lordship -again?" - -"Say a nice word to me before I am off, Violet." - -"I,--love,--you,--better,--than all the world beside; and I mean,--to -be your wife,--some day. Are not those twenty nice words?" - -He would not prolong his stay at Loughlinter, though he was asked -to do so both by Violet and his sister, and though, as he confessed -himself, he had no special business elsewhere. "It is no use mincing -the matter. I don't like Kennedy, and I don't like being in his -house," he said to Violet. And then he promised that there should be -a party got up at Saulsby before the winter was over. His plan was -to stop that night at Carlisle, and write to his father from thence. -"Your blood, perhaps, won't be so tumultuous at Carlisle," said -Violet. He shook his head and went on with his plans. He would then -go on to London and down to Willingford, and there wait for his -father's answer. "There is no reason why I should lose more of -the hunting than necessary." "Pray don't lose a day for me," said -Violet. As soon as he heard from his father, he would do his father's -bidding. "You will go to Saulsby," said Violet; "you can hunt at -Saulsby, you know." - -"I will go to Jericho if he asks me, only you will have to go with -me." "I thought we were to go to,--Belgium," said Violet. - -"And so that is settled at last," said Violet to Laura that night. - -"I hope you do not regret it." - -"On the contrary, I am as happy as the moments are long." - -"My fine girl!" - -"I am happy because I love him. I have always loved him. You have -known that." - -"Indeed, no." - -"But I have, after my fashion. I am not tumultuous, as he calls -himself. Since he began to make eyes at me when he was nineteen--" - -"Fancy Oswald making eyes!" - -"Oh, he did, and mouths too. But from the beginning, when I was a -child, I have known that he was dangerous, and I have thought that -he would pass on and forget me after a while. And I could have lived -without him. Nay, there have been moments when I thought I could -learn to love some one else." - -"Poor Phineas, for instance." - -"We will mention no names. Mr. Appledom, perhaps, more likely. He -has been my most constant lover, and then he would be so safe! Your -brother, Laura, is dangerous. He is like the bad ice in the parks -where they stick up the poles. He has had a pole stuck upon him ever -since he was a boy." - -"Yes;--give a dog a bad name and hang him." - -"Remember that I do not love him a bit the less on that -account;--perhaps the better. A sense of danger does not make me -unhappy, though the threatened evil may be fatal. I have entered -myself for my forlorn hope, and I mean to stick to it. Now I must go -and write to his worship. Only think,--I never wrote a love-letter -yet!" - -Nothing more shall be said about Miss Effingham's first love-letter, -which was, no doubt, creditable to her head and heart; but there were -two other letters sent by the same post from Loughlinter which shall -be submitted to the reader, as they will assist the telling of the -story. One was from Lady Laura Kennedy to her friend Phineas Finn, -and the other from Violet to her aunt, Lady Baldock. No letter was -written to Lord Brentford, as it was thought desirable that he should -receive the first intimation of what had been done from his son. - -Respecting the letter to Phineas, which shall be first given, Lady -Laura thought it right to say a word to her husband. He had been of -course told of the engagement, and had replied that he could have -wished that the arrangement could have been made elsewhere than at -his house, knowing as he did that Lady Baldock would not approve -of it. To this Lady Laura had made no reply, and Mr. Kennedy had -condescended to congratulate the bride-elect. When Lady Laura's -letter to Phineas was completed she took care to put it into the -letter-box in the presence of her husband. "I have written to Mr. -Finn," she said, "to tell him of this marriage." - -"Why was it necessary that he should be told?" - -"I think it was due to him,--from certain circumstances." - -"I wonder whether there was any truth in what everybody was saying -about their fighting a duel?" asked Mr. Kennedy. His wife made no -answer, and then he continued--"You told me of your own knowledge -that it was untrue." - -"Not of my own knowledge, Robert." - -"Yes;--of your own knowledge." Then Mr. Kennedy walked away, and was -certain that his wife had deceived him about the duel. There had -been a duel, and she had known it; and yet she had told him that the -report was a ridiculous fabrication. He never forgot anything. He -remembered at this moment the words of the falsehood, and the look -of her face as she told it. He had believed her implicitly, but he -would never believe her again. He was one of those men who, in spite -of their experience of the world, of their experience of their own -lives, imagine that lips that have once lied can never tell the -truth. - -Lady Laura's letter to Phineas was as follows: - - - Loughlinter, December 28th, 186--. - - MY DEAR FRIEND, - - Violet Effingham is here, and Oswald has just left us. - It is possible that you may see him as he passes through - London. But, at any rate, I think it best to let you know - immediately that she has accepted him,--at last. If there - be any pang in this to you, be sure that I will grieve - for you. You will not wish me to say that I regret that - which was the dearest wish of my heart before I knew you. - Lately, indeed, I have been torn in two ways. You will - understand what I mean, and I believe I need say nothing - more;--except this, that it shall be among my prayers that - you may obtain all things that may tend to make you happy, - honourable, and of high esteem. - - Your most sincere friend - - LAURA KENNEDY. - - -Even though her husband should read the letter, there was nothing in -that of which she need be ashamed. But he did not read the letter. -He simply speculated as to its contents, and inquired within himself -whether it would not be for the welfare of the world in general, and -for the welfare of himself in particular, that husbands should demand -to read their wives' letters. - -And this was Violet's letter to her aunt:-- - - - MY DEAR AUNT, - - The thing has come at last, and all your troubles will be - soon over;--for I do believe that all your troubles have - come from your unfortunate niece. At last I am going to - be married, and thus take myself off your hands. Lord - Chiltern has just been here, and I have accepted him. I am - afraid you hardly think so well of Lord Chiltern as I do; - but then, perhaps, you have not known him so long. You do - know, however, that there has been some difference between - him and his father. I think I may take upon myself to say - that now, upon his engagement, this will be settled. I - have the inexpressible pleasure of feeling sure that Lord - Brentford will welcome me as his daughter-in-law. Tell the - news to Augusta with my best love. I will write to her in - a day or two. I hope my cousin Gustavus will condescend - to give me away. Of course there is nothing fixed about - time;--but I should say, perhaps, in nine years. - - Your affectionate niece, - - VIOLET EFFINGHAM. - - Loughlinter, Friday. - - -"What does she mean about nine years?" said Lady Baldock in her -wrath. - -"She is joking," said the mild Augusta. - -"I believe she would--joke, if I were going to be buried," said Lady -Baldock. - - - - -CHAPTER LIII - -Showing How Phineas Bore the Blow - - -When Phineas received Lady Laura Kennedy's letter, he was sitting in -his gorgeous apartment in the Colonial Office. It was gorgeous in -comparison with the very dingy room at Mr. Low's to which he had been -accustomed in his early days,--and somewhat gorgeous also as compared -with the lodgings he had so long inhabited in Mr. Bunce's house. The -room was large and square, and looked out from three windows on to -St. James's Park. There were in it two very comfortable arm-chairs -and a comfortable sofa. And the office table at which he sat was of -old mahogany, shining brightly, and seemed to be fitted up with every -possible appliance for official comfort. This stood near one of the -windows, so that he could sit and look down upon the park. And there -was a large round table covered with books and newspapers. And the -walls of the room were bright with maps of all the colonies. And -there was one very interesting map,--but not very bright,--showing -the American colonies, as they used to be. And there was a little -inner closet in which he could brush his hair and wash his hands; and -in the room adjoining there sat,--or ought to have sat, for he was -often absent, vexing the mind of Phineas,--the Earl's nephew, his -private secretary. And it was all very gorgeous. Often as he looked -round upon it, thinking of his old bedroom at Killaloe, of his little -garrets at Trinity, of the dingy chambers in Lincoln's Inn, he would -tell himself that it was very gorgeous. He would wonder that anything -so grand had fallen to his lot. - -The letter from Scotland was brought to him in the afternoon, having -reached London by some day-mail from Glasgow. He was sitting at his -desk with a heap of papers before him referring to a contemplated -railway from Halifax, in Nova Scotia, to the foot of the Rocky -Mountains. It had become his business to get up the subject, and then -discuss with his principal, Lord Cantrip, the expediency of advising -the Government to lend a company five million of money, in order -that this railway might be made. It was a big subject, and the -contemplation of it gratified him. It required that he should look -forward to great events, and exercise the wisdom of a statesman. What -was the chance of these colonies being swallowed up by those other -regions,--once colonies,--of which the map that hung in the corner -told so eloquent a tale? And if so, would the five million ever be -repaid? And if not swallowed up, were the colonies worth so great an -adventure of national money? Could they repay it? Would they do so? -Should they be made to do so? Mr. Low, who was now a Q.C. and in -Parliament, would not have greater subjects than this before him, -even if he should come to be Solicitor General. Lord Cantrip had -specially asked him to get up this matter,--and he was getting it up -sedulously. Once in nine years the harbour of Halifax was blocked up -by ice. He had just jotted down the fact, which was material, when -Lady Laura's letter was brought to him. He read it, and putting -it down by his side very gently, went back to his maps as though -the thing would not so trouble his mind as to disturb his work. He -absolutely wrote, automatically, certain words of a note about the -harbour, after he had received the information. A horse will gallop -for some scores of yards, after his back has been broken, before -he knows of his great ruin;--and so it was with Phineas Finn. His -back was broken, but, nevertheless, he galloped, for a yard or two. -"Closed in 1860-61 for thirteen days." Then he began to be aware that -his back was broken, and that the writing of any more notes about the -ice in Halifax harbour was for the present out of the question. "I -think it best to let you know immediately that she has accepted him." -These were the words which he read the oftenest. Then it was all -over! The game was played out, and all his victories were as nothing -to him. He sat for an hour in his gorgeous room thinking of it, and -various were the answers which he gave during the time to various -messages;--but he would see nobody. As for the colonies, he did not -care if they revolted to-morrow. He would have parted with every -colony belonging to Great Britain to have gotten the hand of Violet -Effingham for himself. Now,--now at this moment, he told himself with -oaths that he had never loved any one but Violet Effingham. - -There had been so much to make such a marriage desirable! I should -wrong my hero deeply were I to say that the weight of his sorrow was -occasioned by the fact that he had lost an heiress. He would never -have thought of looking for Violet Effingham had he not first learned -to love her. But as the idea opened itself out to him, everything -had seemed to be so suitable. Had Miss Effingham become his wife, -the mouths of the Lows and of the Bunces would have been stopped -altogether. Mr. Monk would have come to his house as his familiar -guest, and he would have been connected with half a score of peers. -A seat in Parliament would be simply his proper place, and even -Under-Secretaryships of State might soon come to be below him. He -was playing a great game, but hitherto he had played it with so much -success,--with such wonderful luck! that it had seemed to him that -all things were within his reach. Nothing more had been wanting to -him than Violet's hand for his own comfort, and Violet's fortune to -support his position; and these, too, had almost seemed to be within -his grasp. His goddess had indeed refused him,--but not with disdain. -Even Lady Laura had talked of his marriage as not improbable. All the -world, almost, had heard of the duel; and all the world had smiled, -and seemed to think that in the real fight Phineas Finn would be -the victor,--that the lucky pistol was in his hands. It had never -occurred to any one to suppose,--as far as he could see,--that he was -presuming at all, or pushing himself out of his own sphere, in asking -Violet Effingham to be his wife. No;--he would trust his luck, would -persevere, and would succeed. Such had been his resolution on that -very morning,--and now there had come this letter to dash him to the -ground. - -There were moments in which he declared to himself that he would not -believe the letter,--not that there was any moment in which there -was in his mind the slightest spark of real hope. But he would tell -himself that he would still persevere. Violet might have been driven -to accept that violent man by violent influence,--or it might be -that she had not in truth accepted him, that Chiltern had simply so -asserted. Or, even if it were so, did women never change their minds? -The manly thing would be to persevere to the end. Had he not before -been successful, when success seemed to be as far from him? But he -could buoy himself up with no real hope. Even when these ideas were -present to his mind, he knew,--he knew well,--at those very moments, -that his back was broken. - -Some one had come in and lighted the candles and drawn down the -blinds while he was sitting there, and now, as he looked at his -watch, he found that it was past five o'clock. He was engaged to dine -with Madame Max Goesler at eight, and in his agony he half-resolved -that he would send an excuse. Madame Max would be full of wrath, as -she was very particular about her little dinner-parties;--but, what -did he care now about the wrath of Madame Max Goesler? And yet only -this morning he had been congratulating himself, among his other -successes, upon her favour, and had laughed inwardly at his own -falseness,--his falseness to Violet Effingham,--as he did so. He -had said something to himself jocosely about lovers' perjuries, the -remembrance of which was now very bitter to him. He took up a sheet -of note-paper and scrawled an excuse to Madame Goesler. News from the -country, he said, made it impossible that he should go out to-night. -But he did not send the note. At about half-past five he opened the -door of his private secretary's room and found the young man fast -asleep, with a cigar in his mouth. "Halloa, Charles," he said. - -"All right!" Charles Standish was a first cousin of Lady Laura's, -and, having been in the office before Phineas had joined it, and -being a great favourite with his cousin, had of course become the -Under-Secretary's private secretary. "I'm all here," said Charles -Standish, getting up and shaking himself. - -"I am going. Just tie up those papers,--exactly as they are. I shall -be here early to-morrow, but I shan't want you before twelve. Good -night, Charles." - -"Ta, ta," said his private secretary, who was very fond of his -master, but not very respectful,--unless upon express occasions. - -Then Phineas went out and walked across the park; but as he went he -became quite aware that his back was broken. It was not the less -broken because he sang to himself little songs to prove to himself -that it was whole and sound. It was broken, and it seemed to him now -that he never could become an Atlas again, to bear the weight of the -world upon his shoulders. What did anything signify? All that he had -done had been part of a game which he had been playing throughout, -and now he had been beaten in his game. He absolutely ignored his -old passion for Lady Laura as though it had never been, and regarded -himself as a model of constancy,--as a man who had loved, not wisely -perhaps, but much too well,--and who must now therefore suffer a -living death. He hated Parliament. He hated the Colonial Office. -He hated his friend Mr. Monk; and he especially hated Madame Max -Goesler. As to Lord Chiltern,--he believed that Lord Chiltern had -obtained his object by violence. He would see to that! Yes;--let the -consequences be what they might, he would see to that! - -He went up by the Duke of York's column, and as he passed the -Athenaeum he saw his chief, Lord Cantrip, standing under the portico -talking to a bishop. He would have gone on unnoticed, had it been -possible; but Lord Cantrip came down to him at once. "I have put your -name down here," said his lordship. - -"What's the use?" said Phineas, who was profoundly indifferent at -this moment to all the clubs in London. - -"It can't do any harm, you know. You'll come up in time. And if you -should get into the ministry, they'll let you in at once." - -"Ministry!" ejaculated Phineas. But Lord Cantrip took the tone of -voice as simply suggestive of humility, and suspected nothing of that -profound indifference to all ministers and ministerial honours which -Phineas had intended to express. "By-the-bye," said Lord Cantrip, -putting his arm through that of the Under-Secretary, "I wanted to -speak to you about the guarantees. We shall be in the devil's own -mess, you know--" And so the Secretary of State went on about the -Rocky Mountain Railroad, and Phineas strove hard to bear his burden -with his broken back. He was obliged to say something about the -guarantees, and the railway, and the frozen harbour,--and something -especially about the difficulties which would be found, not in the -measures themselves, but in the natural pugnacity of the Opposition. -In the fabrication of garments for the national wear, the great -thing is to produce garments that shall, as far as possible, defy -hole-picking. It may be, and sometimes is, the case, that garments -so fabricated will be good also for wear. Lord Cantrip, at the -present moment, was very anxious and very ingenious in the stopping -of holes; and he thought that perhaps his Under-Secretary was too -much prone to the indulgence of large philanthropical views without -sufficient thought of the hole-pickers. But on this occasion, by -the time that he reached Brooks's, he had been enabled to convince -his Under-Secretary, and though he had always thought well of his -Under-Secretary, he thought better of him now than ever he had done. -Phineas during the whole time had been meditating what he could do -to Lord Chiltern when they two should meet. Could he take him by the -throat and smite him? "I happen to know that Broderick is working as -hard at the matter as we are," said Lord Cantrip, stopping opposite -to the club. "He moved for papers, you know, at the end of last -session." Now Mr. Broderick was a gentleman in the House looking for -promotion in a Conservative Government, and of course would oppose -any measure that could be brought forward by the Cantrip-Finn -Colonial Administration. Then Lord Cantrip slipped into the club, and -Phineas went on alone. - -A spark of his old ambition with reference to Brooks's was the first -thing to make him forget his misery for a moment. He had asked Lord -Brentford to put his name down, and was not sure whether it had been -done. The threat of Mr. Broderick's opposition had been of no use -towards the strengthening of his broken back, but the sight of Lord -Cantrip hurrying in at the coveted door did do something. "A man -can't cut his throat or blow his brains out," he said to himself; -"after all, he must go on and do his work. For hearts will break, yet -brokenly live on." Thereupon he went home, and after sitting for an -hour over his own fire, and looking wistfully at a little treasure -which he had,--a treasure obtained by some slight fraud at Saulsby, -and which he now chucked into the fire, and then instantly again -pulled out of it, soiled but unscorched,--he dressed himself for -dinner, and went out to Madame Max Goesler's. Upon the whole, he was -glad that he had not sent the note of excuse. A man must live, even -though his heart be broken, and living he must dine. - -Madame Max Goesler was fond of giving little dinners at this period -of the year, before London was crowded, and when her guests might -probably not be called away by subsequent social arrangements. Her -number seldom exceeded six or eight, and she always spoke of these -entertainments as being of the humblest kind. She sent out no big -cards. She preferred to catch her people as though by chance, when -that was possible. "Dear Mr. Jones. Mr. Smith is coming to tell -me about some sherry on Tuesday. Will you come and tell me too? I -daresay you know as much about it." And then there was a studious -absence of parade. The dishes were not very numerous. The bill of -fare was simply written out once, for the mistress, and so circulated -round the table. Not a word about the things to be eaten or the -things to be drunk was ever spoken at the table,--or at least no such -word was ever spoken by Madame Goesler. But, nevertheless, they who -knew anything about dinners were aware that Madame Goesler gave very -good dinners indeed. Phineas Finn was beginning to flatter himself -that he knew something about dinners, and had been heard to assert -that the soups at the cottage in Park Lane were not to be beaten in -London. But he cared for no soup to-day, as he slowly made his way up -Madame Goesler's staircase. - -There had been one difficulty in the way of Madame Goesler's -dinner-parties which had required some patience and great ingenuity -in its management. She must either have ladies, or she must not have -them. There was a great allurement in the latter alternative; but she -knew well that if she gave way to it, all prospect of general society -would for her be closed,--and for ever. This had been in the early -days of her widowhood in Park Lane. She cared but little for women's -society; but she knew well that the society of gentlemen without -women would not be that which she desired. She knew also that she -might as effectually crush herself and all her aspirations by -bringing to her house indifferent women,--women lacking something -either in character, or in position, or in talent,--as by having none -at all. Thus there had been a great difficulty, and sometimes she had -thought that the thing could not be done at all. "These English are -so stiff, so hard, so heavy!" And yet she would not have cared to -succeed elsewhere than among the English. By degrees, however, the -thing was done. Her prudence equalled her wit, and even suspicious -people had come to acknowledge that they could not put their fingers -on anything wrong. When Lady Glencora Palliser had once dined at -the cottage in Park Lane, Madame Max Goesler had told herself that -henceforth she did not care what the suspicious people said. Since -that the Duke of Omnium had almost promised that he would come. If -she could only entertain the Duke of Omnium she would have done -everything. - -But there was no Duke of Omnium there to-night. At this time the Duke -of Omnium was, of course, not in London. But Lord Fawn was there; and -our old friend Laurence Fitzgibbon, who had--resigned his place at -the Colonial Office; and there were Mr. and Mrs. Bonteen. They, with -our hero, made up the party. No one doubted for a moment to what -source Mr. Bonteen owed his dinner. Mrs. Bonteen was good-looking, -could talk, was sufficiently proper, and all that kind of thing,--and -did as well as any other woman at this time of year to keep Madame -Max Goesler in countenance. There was never any sitting after dinner -at the cottage; or, I should rather say, there was never any sitting -after Madame Goesler went; so that the two ladies could not weary -each other by being alone together. Mrs. Bonteen understood quite -well that she was not required there to talk to her hostess, and was -as willing as any woman to make herself agreeable to the gentlemen -she might meet at Madame Goesler's table. And thus Mr. and Mrs. -Bonteen not unfrequently dined in Park Lane. - -"Now we have only to wait for that horrible man, Mr. Fitzgibbon," -said Madame Max Goesler, as she welcomed Phineas. "He is always -late." - -"What a blow for me!" said Phineas. - -"No,--you are always in good time. But there is a limit beyond which -good time ends, and being shamefully late at once begins. But here he -is." And then, as Laurence Fitzgibbon entered the room, Madame -Goesler rang the bell for dinner. - -Phineas found himself placed between his hostess and Mr. Bonteen, and -Lord Fawn was on the other side of Madame Goesler. They were hardly -seated at the table before some one stated it as a fact that Lord -Brentford and his son were reconciled. Now Phineas knew, or thought -that he knew, that this could not as yet be the case; and indeed such -was not the case, though the father had already received the son's -letter. But Phineas did not choose to say anything at present about -Lord Chiltern. - -"How odd it is," said Madame Goesler; "how often you English fathers -quarrel with your sons!" - -"How often we English sons quarrel with our fathers rather," said -Lord Fawn, who was known for the respect he had always paid to the -fifth commandment. - -"It all comes from entail and primogeniture, and old-fashioned -English prejudices of that kind," said Madame Goesler. "Lord Chiltern -is a friend of yours, Mr. Finn, I think." - -"They are both friends of mine," said Phineas. - -"Ah, yes; but you,--you,--you and Lord Chiltern once did something -odd together. There was a little mystery, was there not?" - -"It is very little of a mystery now," said Fitzgibbon. - -"It was about a lady;--was it not?" said Mrs. Bonteen, affecting to -whisper to her neighbour. - -"I am not at liberty to say anything on the subject," said -Fitzgibbon; "but I have no doubt Phineas will tell you." - -"I don't believe this about Lord Brentford," said Mr. Bonteen. "I -happen to know that Chiltern was down at Loughlinter three days ago, -and that he passed through London yesterday on his way to the place -where he hunts. The Earl is at Saulsby. He would have gone to Saulsby -if it were true." - -"It all depends upon whether Miss Effingham will accept him," said -Mrs. Bonteen, looking over at Phineas as she spoke. - -As there were two of Violet Effingham's suitors at table, the subject -was becoming disagreeably personal; and the more so, as every one of -the party knew or surmised something of the facts of the case. The -cause of the duel at Blankenberg had become almost as public as the -duel, and Lord Fawn's courtship had not been altogether hidden from -the public eye. He on the present occasion might probably be able to -carry himself better than Phineas, even presuming him to be equally -eager in his love,--for he knew nothing of the fatal truth. But he -was unable to hear Mrs. Bonteen's statement with indifference, and -showed his concern in the matter by his reply. "Any lady will be much -to be pitied," he said, "who does that. Chiltern is the last man in -the world to whom I would wish to trust the happiness of a woman for -whom I cared." - -"Chiltern is a very good fellow," said Laurence Fitzgibbon. - -"Just a little wild," said Mrs. Bonteen. - -"And never had a shilling in his pocket in his life," said her -husband. - -"I regard him as simply a madman," said Lord Fawn. - -"I do so wish I knew him," said Madame Max Goesler. "I am fond of -madmen, and men who haven't shillings, and who are a little wild, -Could you not bring him here, Mr. Finn?" - -Phineas did not know what to say, or how to open his mouth without -showing his deep concern. "I shall be happy to ask him if you wish -it," he replied, as though the question had been put to him in -earnest; "but I do not see so much of Lord Chiltern as I used to do." - -"You do not believe that Violet Effingham will accept him?" asked -Mrs. Bonteen. - -He paused a moment before he spoke, and then made his answer in a -deep solemn voice,--with a seriousness which he was unable to -repress. "She has accepted him," he said. - -"Do you mean that you know it?" said Madame Goesler. - -"Yes;--I mean that I know it." - -Had anybody told him beforehand that he would openly make this -declaration at Madame Goesler's table, he would have said that of -all things it was the most impossible. He would have declared that -nothing would have induced him to speak of Violet Effingham in his -existing frame of mind, and that he would have had his tongue cut -out before he spoke of her as the promised bride of his rival. And -now he had declared the whole truth of his own wretchedness and -discomfiture. He was well aware that all of them there knew why he -had fought the duel at Blankenberg;--all, that is, except perhaps -Lord Fawn. And he felt as he made the statement as to Lord Chiltern -that he blushed up to his forehead, and that his voice was strange, -and that he was telling the tale of his own disgrace. But when the -direct question had been asked him he had been unable to refrain from -answering it directly. He had thought of turning it off with some -jest or affectation of drollery, but had failed. At the moment he had -been unable not to speak the truth. - -"I don't believe a word of it," said Lord Fawn,--who also forgot -himself. - -"I do believe it, if Mr. Finn says so," said Mrs. Bonteen, who rather -liked the confusion she had caused. - -"But who could have told you, Finn?" asked Mr. Bonteen. - -"His sister, Lady Laura, told me so," said Phineas. - -"Then it must be true," said Madame Goesler. - -"It is quite impossible," said Lord Fawn. "I think I may say that -I know that it is impossible. If it were so, it would be a most -shameful arrangement. Every shilling she has in the world would -be swallowed up." Now, Lord Fawn in making his proposals had been -magnanimous in his offers as to settlements and pecuniary provisions -generally. - -For some minutes after that Phineas did not speak another word, and -the conversation generally was not so brisk and bright as it was -expected to be at Madame Goesler's. Madame Max Goesler herself -thoroughly understood our hero's position, and felt for him. She -would have encouraged no questionings about Violet Effingham had -she thought that they would have led to such a result, and now she -exerted herself to turn the minds of her guests to other subjects. -At last she succeeded; and after a while, too, Phineas himself was -able to talk. He drank two or three glasses of wine, and dashed -away into politics, taking the earliest opportunity in his power of -contradicting Lord Fawn very plainly on one or two matters. Laurence -Fitzgibbon was of course of opinion that the ministry could not stay -in long. Since he had left the Government the ministers had made -wonderful mistakes, and he spoke of them quite as an enemy might -speak. "And yet, Fitz," said Mr. Bonteen, "you used to be so staunch -a supporter." - -"I have seen the error of my way, I can assure you," said Laurence. - -"I always observe," said Madame Max Goesler, "that when any of -you gentlemen resign,--which you usually do on some very trivial -matter,--the resigning gentleman becomes of all foes the bitterest. -Somebody goes on very well with his friends, agreeing most cordially -about everything, till he finds that his public virtue cannot swallow -some little detail, and then he resigns. Or some one, perhaps, on the -other side has attacked him, and in the melee he is hurt, and so he -resigns. But when he has resigned, and made his parting speech full -of love and gratitude, I know well after that where to look for the -bitterest hostility to his late friends. Yes, I am beginning to -understand the way in which politics are done in England." - -All this was rather severe upon Laurence Fitzgibbon; but he was a man -of the world, and bore it better than Phineas had borne his defeat. - -The dinner, taken altogether, was not a success, and so Madame -Goesler understood. Lord Fawn, after he had been contradicted by -Phineas, hardly opened his mouth. Phineas himself talked rather too -much and rather too loudly; and Mrs. Bonteen, who was well enough -inclined to flatter Lord Fawn, contradicted him. "I made a mistake," -said Madame Goesler afterwards, "in having four members of Parliament -who all of them were or had been in office. I never will have two men -in office together again." This she said to Mrs. Bonteen. "My dear -Madame Max," said Mrs. Bonteen, "your resolution ought to be that you -will never again have two claimants for the same young lady." - -In the drawing-room up-stairs Madame Goesler managed to be alone for -three minutes with Phineas Finn. "And it is as you say, my friend?" -she asked. Her voice was plaintive and soft, and there was a look of -real sympathy in her eyes. Phineas almost felt that if they two had -been quite alone he could have told her everything, and have wept at -her feet. - -"Yes," he said, "it is so." - -"I never doubted it when you had declared it. May I venture to say -that I wish it had been otherwise?" - -"It is too late now, Madame Goesler. A man of course is a fool to -show that he has any feelings in such a matter. The fact is, I heard -it just before I came here, and had made up my mind to send you an -excuse. I wish I had now." - -"Do not say that, Mr. Finn." - -"I have made such an ass of myself." - -"In my estimation you have done yourself honour. But if I may venture -to give you counsel, do not speak of this affair again as though you -had been personally concerned in it. In the world now-a-days the only -thing disgraceful is to admit a failure." - -"And I have failed." - -"But you need not admit it, Mr. Finn. I know I ought not to say as -much to you." - -"I, rather, am deeply indebted to you. I will go now, Madame Goesler, -as I do not wish to leave the house with Lord Fawn." - -"But you will come and see me soon." Then Phineas promised that he -would come soon; and felt as he made the promise that he would have -an opportunity of talking over his love with his new friend at any -rate without fresh shame as to his failure. - -Laurence Fitzgibbon went away with Phineas, and Mr. Bonteen, having -sent his wife away by herself, walked off towards the clubs with Lord -Fawn. He was very anxious to have a few words with Lord Fawn. Lord -Fawn had evidently been annoyed by Phineas, and Mr. Bonteen did not -at all love the young Under-Secretary. "That fellow has become the -most consummate puppy I ever met," said he, as he linked himself on -to the lord, "Monk, and one or two others among them, have contrived -to spoil him altogether." - -"I don't believe a word of what he said about Lord Chiltern," said -Lord Fawn. - -"About his marriage with Miss Effingham?" - -"It would be such an abominable shame to sacrifice the girl," said -Lord Fawn. "Only think of it. Everything is gone. The man is a -drunkard, and I don't believe he is any more reconciled to his father -than you are. Lady Laura Kennedy must have had some object in saying -so." - -"Perhaps an invention of Finn's altogether," said Mr. Bonteen. "Those -Irish fellows are just the men for that kind of thing." - -"A man, you know, so violent that nobody can hold him," said Lord -Fawn, thinking of Chiltern. - -"And so absurdly conceited," said Mr. Bonteen, thinking of Phineas. - -"A man who has never done anything, with all his advantages in the -world,--and never will." - -"He won't hold his place long," said Mr. Bonteen. - -"Whom do you mean?" - -"Phineas Finn." - -"Oh, Mr. Finn. I was talking of Lord Chiltern. I believe Finn to be -a very good sort of a fellow, and he is undoubtedly clever. They say -Cantrip likes him amazingly. He'll do very well. But I don't believe -a word of this about Lord Chiltern." Then Mr. Bonteen felt himself to -be snubbed, and soon afterwards left Lord Fawn alone. - - - - -CHAPTER LIV - -Consolation - - -On the day following Madame Goesler's dinner party, Phineas, though -he was early at his office, was not able to do much work, still -feeling that as regarded the realities of the world, his back -was broken. He might no doubt go on learning, and, after a time, -might be able to exert himself in a perhaps useful, but altogether -uninteresting kind of way, doing his work simply because it was -there to be done,--as the carter or the tailor does his;--and from -the same cause, knowing that a man must have bread to live. But as -for ambition, and the idea of doing good, and the love of work for -work's sake,--as for the elastic springs of delicious and beneficent -labour,--all that was over for him. He would have worked from day -till night, and from night till day, and from month till month -throughout the year to have secured for Violet Effingham the -assurance that her husband's position was worthy of her own. But now -he had no motive for such work as this. As long as he took the public -pay, he would earn it; and that was all. - -On the next day things were a little better with him. He received a -note in the morning from Lord Cantrip saying that they two were to -see the Prime Minister that evening, in order that the whole question -of the railway to the Rocky Mountains might be understood, and -Phineas was driven to his work. Before the time of the meeting came -he had once more lost his own identity in great ideas of colonial -welfare, and had planned and peopled a mighty region on the Red -River, which should have no sympathy with American democracy. When -he waited upon Mr. Gresham in the afternoon he said nothing about -the mighty region; indeed, he left it to Lord Cantrip to explain -most of the proposed arrangements,--speaking only a word or two here -and there as occasion required. But he was aware that he had so far -recovered as to be able to save himself from losing ground during the -interview. - -"He's about the first Irishman we've had that has been worth his -salt," said Mr. Gresham to his colleague afterwards. - -"That other Irishman was a terrible fellow," said Lord Cantrip, -shaking his head. - -On the fourth day after his sorrow had befallen him, Phineas went -again to the cottage in Park Lane. And in order that he might not be -balked in his search for sympathy he wrote a line to Madame Goesler -to ask if she would be at home. "I will be at home from five to -six,--and alone.--M. M. G." That was the answer from Marie Max -Goesler, and Phineas was of course at the cottage a few minutes -after five. It is not, I think, surprising that a man when he wants -sympathy in such a calamity as that which had now befallen Phineas -Finn, should seek it from a woman. Women sympathise most effectually -with men, as men do with women. But it is, perhaps, a little odd that -a man when he wants consolation because his heart has been broken, -always likes to receive it from a pretty woman. One would be disposed -to think that at such a moment he would be profoundly indifferent -to such a matter, that no delight could come to him from female -beauty, and that all he would want would be the softness of a simply -sympathetic soul. But he generally wants a soft hand as well, and an -eye that can be bright behind the mutual tear, and lips that shall -be young and fresh as they express their concern for his sorrow. All -these things were added to Phineas when he went to Madame Goesler in -his grief. - - -"I am so glad to see you," said Madame Max. - -"You are very good-natured to let me come." - -"No;--but it is so good of you to trust me. But I was sure you would -come after what took place the other night. I saw that you were -pained, and I was so sorry for it." - -"I made such a fool of myself." - -"Not at all. And I thought that you were right to tell them when the -question had been asked. If the thing was not to be kept a secret, it -was better to speak it out. You will get over it quicker in that way -than in any other. I have never seen the young lord, myself." - -"Oh, there is nothing amiss about him. As to what Lord Fawn said, the -half of it is simply exaggeration, and the other half is -misunderstood." - -"In this country it is so much to be a lord," said Madame Goesler. - -Phineas thought a moment of that matter before he replied. All the -Standish family had been very good to him, and Violet Effingham had -been very good. It was not the fault of any of them that he was now -wretched and back-broken. He had meditated much on this, and had -resolved that he would not even think evil of them. "I do not in my -heart believe that that has had anything to do with it," he said. - -"But it has, my friend,--always. I do not know your Violet -Effingham." - -"She is not mine." - -"Well;--I do not know this Violet that is not yours. I have met her, -and did not specially admire her. But then the tastes of men and -women about beauty are never the same. But I know she is one that -always lives with lords and countesses. A girl who always lived with -countesses feels it to be hard to settle down as a plain Mistress." - -"She has had plenty of choice among all sorts of men. It was not the -title. She would not have accepted Chiltern unless she had--. But -what is the use of talking of it?" - -"They had known each other long?" - -"Oh, yes,--as children. And the Earl desired it of all things." - -"Ah;--then he arranged it." - -"Not exactly. Nobody could arrange anything for Chiltern,--nor, as -far as that goes, for Miss Effingham. They arranged it themselves, I -fancy." - -"You had asked her?" - -"Yes;--twice. And she had refused him more than twice. I have nothing -for which to blame her; but yet I had thought,--I had thought--" - -"She is a jilt then?" - -"No;--I will not let you say that of her. She is no jilt. But I think -she has been strangely ignorant of her own mind. What is the use of -talking of it, Madame Goesler?" - -"None;--only sometimes it is better to speak a word, than to keep -one's sorrow to oneself." - -"So it is;--and there is not one in the world to whom I can speak -such a word, except yourself. Is not that odd? I have sisters, but -they have never heard of Miss Effingham, and would be quite -indifferent." - -"Perhaps they have some other favourites." - -"Ah;--well. That does not matter, And my best friend here in London -is Lord Chiltern's own sister." - -"She knew of your attachment?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"And she told you of Miss Effingham's engagement. Was she glad of -it?" - -"She has always desired the marriage. And yet I think she would have -been satisfied had it been otherwise. But of course her heart must -be with her brother. I need not have troubled myself to go to -Blankenberg after all." - -"It was for the best, perhaps. Everybody says you behaved so well." - -"I could not but go, as things were then." - -"What if you had--shot him?" - -"There would have been an end of everything. She would never have -seen me after that. Indeed I should have shot myself next, feeling -that there was nothing else left for me to do." - -"Ah;--you English are so peculiar. But I suppose it is best not to -shoot a man. And, Mr. Finn, there are other ladies in the world -prettier than Miss Violet Effingham. No;--of course you will not -admit that now. Just at this moment, and for a month or two, she -is peerless, and you will feel yourself to be of all men the most -unfortunate. But you have the ball at your feet. I know no one so -young who has got the ball at his feet so well. I call it nothing to -have the ball at your feet if you are born with it there. It is so -easy to be a lord if your father is one before you,--and so easy -to marry a pretty girl if you can make her a countess. But to make -yourself a lord, or to be as good as a lord, when nothing has been -born to you,--that I call very much. And there are women, and pretty -women too, Mr. Finn, who have spirit enough to understand this, and -to think that the man, after all, is more important than the lord." -Then she sang the old well-worn verse of the Scotch song with -wonderful spirit, and with a clearness of voice and knowledge of -music for which he had hitherto never given her credit. - - - "A prince can mak' a belted knight, - A marquis, duke, and a' that; - But an honest man's aboon his might, - Guid faith he mauna fa' that." - - -"I did not know that you sung, Madame Goesler." - -"Only now and then when something specially requires it. And I am -very fond of Scotch songs. I will sing to you now if you like it." -Then she sang the whole song,--"A man's a man for a' that," she -said as she finished. "Even though he cannot get the special bit of -painted Eve's flesh for which his heart has had a craving." Then she -sang again:-- - - - "There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, - Who would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." - - -"But young Lochinvar got his bride," said Phineas. - -"Take the spirit of the lines, Mr. Finn, which is true; and not the -tale as it is told, which is probably false. I often think that Jock -of Hazledean, and young Lochinvar too, probably lived to repent their -bargains. We will hope that Lord Chiltern may not do so." - -"I am sure he never will." - -"That is all right. And as for you, do you for a while think of your -politics, and your speeches, and your colonies, rather than of your -love. You are at home there, and no Lord Chiltern can rob you of -your success. And if you are down in the mouth, come to me, and I -will sing you a Scotch song. And, look you, the next time I ask you -to dinner I will promise you that Mrs. Bonteen shall not be here. -Good-bye." She gave him her hand, which was very soft, and left it -for a moment in his, and he was consoled. - -Madame Goesler, when she was alone, threw herself on to her chair -and began to think of things. In these days she would often ask -herself what in truth was the object of her ambition, and the aim of -her life. Now at this moment she had in her hand a note from the Duke -of Omnium. The Duke had allowed himself to say something about a -photograph, which had justified her in writing to him,--or which she -had taken for such justification. And the Duke had replied. "He would -not," he said, "lose the opportunity of waiting upon her in person -which the presentation of the little gift might afford him." It would -be a great success to have the Duke of Omnium at her house,--but to -what would the success reach? What was her definite object,--or had -she any? In what way could she make herself happy? She could not say -that she was happy yet. The hours with her were too long and the days -too many. - -The Duke of Omnium should come,--if he would. And she was quite -resolved as to this,--that if the Duke did come she would not be -afraid of him. Heavens and earth! What would be the feelings of such -a woman as her, were the world to greet her some fine morning as -Duchess of Omnium! Then she made up her mind very resolutely on one -subject. Should the Duke give her any opportunity she would take -a very short time in letting him know what was the extent of her -ambition. - - - - -CHAPTER LV - -Lord Chiltern at Saulsby - - -Lord Chiltern did exactly as he said he would do. He wrote to his -father as he passed through Carlisle, and at once went on to his -hunting at Willingford. But his letter was very stiff and ungainly, -and it may be doubted whether Miss Effingham was not wrong in -refusing the offer which he had made to her as to the dictation of -it. He began his letter, "My Lord," and did not much improve the -style as he went on with it. The reader may as well see the whole -letter;-- - - - Railway Hotel, Carlisle, - December 27, 186--. - - MY LORD, - - I am now on my way from Loughlinter to London, and write - this letter to you in compliance with a promise made by - me to my sister and to Miss Effingham. I have asked Violet - to be my wife, and she has accepted me, and they think - that you will be pleased to hear that this has been done. - I shall be, of course, obliged, if you will instruct Mr. - Edwards to let me know what you would propose to do in - regard to settlements. Laura thinks that you will wish to - see both Violet and myself at Saulsby. For myself, I can - only say that, should you desire me to come, I will do - so on receiving your assurance that I shall be treated - neither with fatted calves nor with reproaches. I am not - aware that I have deserved either. - - I am, my lord, yours affect., - - CHILTERN. - - P.S.--My address will be "The Bull, Willingford." - - -That last word, in which he half-declared himself to be joined in -affectionate relations to his father, caused him a world of trouble. -But he could find no term for expressing, without a circumlocution -which was disagreeable to him, exactly that position of feeling -towards his father which really belonged to him. He would have -written "yours with affection," or "yours with deadly enmity," or -"yours with respect," or "yours with most profound indifference," -exactly in accordance with the state of his father's mind, if he had -only known what was that state. He was afraid of going beyond his -father in any offer of reconciliation, and was firmly fixed in his -resolution that he would never be either repentant or submissive -in regard to the past. If his father had wishes for the future, -he would comply with them if he could do so without unreasonable -inconvenience, but he would not give way a single point as to things -done and gone. If his father should choose to make any reference to -them, his father must prepare for battle. - -The Earl was of course disgusted by the pertinacious obstinacy of his -son's letter, and for an hour or two swore to himself that he would -not answer it. But it is natural that the father should yearn for the -son, while the son's feeling for the father is of a very much weaker -nature. Here, at any rate, was that engagement made which he had -ever desired. And his son had made a step, though it was so very -unsatisfactory a step, towards reconciliation. When the old man read -the letter a second time, he skipped that reference to fatted calves -which had been so peculiarly distasteful to him, and before the -evening had passed he had answered his son as follows;-- - - - Saulsby, December 29, 186--. - - MY DEAR CHILTERN, - - I have received your letter, and am truly delighted to hear that dear - Violet has accepted you as her husband. Her fortune will be very - material to you, but she herself is better than any fortune. You have - long known my opinion of her. I shall be proud to welcome her as a - daughter to my house. - - I shall of course write to her immediately, and will endeavour to - settle some early day for her coming here. When I have done so, I - will write to you again, and can only say that I will endeavour to - make Saulsby comfortable to you. - - Your affectionate father, - - BRENTFORD. - - Richards, the groom, is still here. You had perhaps better write to - him direct about your horses. - - -By the middle of February arrangements had all been made, and Violet -met her lover at his father's house. She in the meantime had been -with her aunt, and had undergone a good deal of mild unceasing -persecution. "My dear Violet," said her aunt to her on her arrival -at Baddingham, speaking with a solemnity that ought to have been -terrible to the young lady, "I do not know what to say to you." - -"Say 'how d'you do?' aunt," said Violet. - -"I mean about this engagement," said Lady Baldock, with an increase -of awe-inspiring severity in her voice. - -"Say nothing about it at all, if you don't like it," said Violet. - -"How can I say nothing about it? How can I be silent? Or how am I to -congratulate you?" - -"The least said, perhaps, the soonest mended," and Violet smiled as -she spoke. - -"That is very well, and if I had no duty to perform, I would be -silent. But, Violet, you have been left in my charge. If I see you -shipwrecked in life, I shall ever tell myself that the fault has been -partly mine." - -"Nay, aunt, that will be quite unnecessary. I will always admit that -you did everything in your power to--to--to--make me run straight, as -the sporting men say." - -"Sporting men! Oh, Violet." - -"And you know, aunt, I still hope that I shall be found to have kept -on the right side of the posts. You will find that poor Lord Chiltern -is not so black as he is painted." - -"But why take anybody that is black at all?" - -"I like a little shade in the picture, aunt." - -"Look at Lord Fawn." - -"I have looked at him." - -"A young nobleman beginning a career of useful official life, that -will end in--; there is no knowing what it may end in." - -"I daresay not;--but it never could have begun or ended in my being -Lady Fawn." - -"And Mr. Appledom!" - -"Poor Mr. Appledom. I do like Mr. Appledom. But, you see, aunt, I -like Lord Chiltern so much better. A young woman will go by her -feelings." - -"And yet you refused him a dozen times." - -"I never counted the times, aunt; but not quite so many as that." - -The same thing was repeated over and over again during the month that -Miss Effingham remained at Baddingham, but Lady Baldock had no power -of interfering, and Violet bore her persecution bravely. Her future -husband was generally spoken of as "that violent young man," and -hints were thrown out as to the personal injuries to which his wife -might be possibly subjected. But the threatened bride only laughed, -and spoke of these coming dangers as part of the general lot of -married women. "I daresay, if the truth were known, my uncle Baldock -did not always keep his temper," she once said. Now, the truth was, -as Violet well knew, that "my uncle Baldock" had been dumb as a sheep -before the shearers in the hands of his wife, and had never been -known to do anything improper by those who had been most intimate -with him even in his earlier days. "Your uncle Baldock, miss," said -the outraged aunt, "was a nobleman as different in his manner of -life from Lord Chiltern as chalk from cheese." "But then comes the -question, which is the cheese?" said Violet. Lady Baldock would not -argue the question any further, but stalked out of the room. - -Lady Laura Kennedy met them at Saulsby, having had something of a -battle with her husband before she left her home to do so. When she -told him of her desire to assist at this reconciliation between her -father and brother, he replied by pointing out that her first duty -was at Loughlinter, and before the interview was ended had come to -express an opinion that that duty was very much neglected. She in the -meantime had declared that she would go to Saulsby, or that she would -explain to her father that she was forbidden by her husband to do -so. "And I also forbid any such communication," said Mr. Kennedy. In -answer to which, Lady Laura told him that there were some marital -commands which she should not consider it to be her duty to obey. -When matters had come to this pass, it may be conceived that both Mr. -Kennedy and his wife were very unhappy. She had almost resolved that -she would take steps to enable her to live apart from her husband; -and he had begun to consider what course he would pursue if such -steps were taken. The wife was subject to her husband by the laws -both of God and man; and Mr. Kennedy was one who thought much of -such laws. In the meantime, Lady Laura carried her point and went to -Saulsby, leaving her husband to go up to London and begin the session -by himself. - -Lady Laura and Violet were both at Saulsby before Lord Chiltern -arrived, and many were the consultations which were held between them -as to the best mode in which things might be arranged. Violet was of -opinion that there had better be no arrangement, that Lord Chiltern -should be allowed to come in and take his father's hand, and sit down -to dinner,--and that so things should fall into their places. Lady -Laura was rather in favour of some scene. But the interview had taken -place before either of them were able to say a word. Lord Chiltern, -on his arrival, had gone immediately to his father, taking the Earl -very much by surprise, and had come off best in the encounter. - -"My lord," said he, walking up to his father with his hand out, "I am -very glad to come back to Saulsby." He had written to his sister to -say that he would be at Saulsby on that day, but had named no hour. -He now appeared between ten and eleven in the morning, and his father -had as yet made no preparation for him,--had arranged no appropriate -words. He had walked in at the front door, and had asked for the -Earl. The Earl was in his own morning-room,--a gloomy room, full of -dark books and darker furniture, and thither Lord Chiltern had at -once gone. The two women still were sitting together over the fire in -the breakfast-room, and knew nothing of his arrival. - -"Oswald!" said his father, "I hardly expected you so early." - -"I have come early. I came across country, and slept at Birmingham. I -suppose Violet is here." - -"Yes, she is here,--and Laura. They will be very glad to see you. So -am I." And the father took the son's hand for the second time. - -"Thank you, sir," said Lord Chiltern, looking his father full in the -face. - -"I have been very much pleased by this engagement," continued the -Earl. - -"What do you think I must be, then?" said the son, laughing. "I -have been at it, you know, off and on, ever so many years; and have -sometimes thought I was quite a fool not to get it out of my head. -But I couldn't get it out of my head. And now she talks as though it -were she who had been in love with me all the time!" - -"Perhaps she was," said the father. - -"I don't believe it in the least. She may be a little so now." - -"I hope you mean that she always shall be so." - -"I shan't be the worst husband in the world, I hope; and I am quite -sure I shan't be the best. I will go and see her now. I suppose I -shall find her somewhere in the house. I thought it best to see you -first." - -"Stop half a moment, Oswald," said the Earl. And then Lord Brentford -did make something of a shambling speech, in which he expressed a -hope that they two might for the future live together on friendly -terms, forgetting the past. He ought to have been prepared for the -occasion, and the speech was poor and shambling. But I think that it -was more useful than it might have been, had it been uttered roundly -and with that paternal and almost majestic effect which he would have -achieved had he been thoroughly prepared. But the roundness and the -majesty would have gone against the grain with his son, and there -would have been a danger of some outbreak. As it was, Lord Chiltern -smiled, and muttered some word about things being "all right," and -then made his way out of the room. "That's a great deal better than I -had hoped," he said to himself; "and it has all come from my going in -without being announced." But there was still a fear upon him that -his father even yet might prepare a speech, and speak it, to the -great peril of their mutual comfort. - -His meeting with Violet was of course pleasant enough. Now that she -had succumbed, and had told herself and had told him that she loved -him, she did not scruple to be as generous as a maiden should be who -has acknowledged herself to be conquered, and has rendered herself to -the conqueror. She would walk with him and ride with him, and take a -lively interest in the performances of all his horses, and listen to -hunting stories as long as he chose to tell them. In all this, she -was so good and so loving that Lady Laura was more than once tempted -to throw in her teeth her old, often-repeated assertions, that she -was not prone to be in love,--that it was not her nature to feel any -ardent affection for a man, and that, therefore, she would probably -remain unmarried. "You begrudge me my little bits of pleasure," -Violet said, in answer to one such attack. "No;--but it is so odd to -see you, of all women, become so love-lorn," "I am not love-lorn," -said Violet, "but I like the freedom of telling him everything and -of hearing everything from him, and of having him for my own best -friend. He might go away for twelve months, and I should not be -unhappy, believing, as I do, that he would be true to me." All of -which set Lady Laura thinking whether her friend had not been wiser -than she had been. She had never known anything of that sort of -friendship with her husband which already seemed to be quite -established between these two. - -In her misery one day Lady Laura told the whole story of her own -unhappiness to her brother, saying nothing of Phineas Finn,--thinking -nothing of him as she told her story, but speaking more strongly -perhaps than she should have done, of the terrible dreariness of her -life at Loughlinter, and of her inability to induce her husband to -alter it for her sake. - -"Do you mean that he,--ill-treats you?" said the brother, with a -scowl on his face which seemed to indicate that he would like no task -better than that of resenting such ill-treatment. - -"He does not beat me, if you mean that." - -"Is he cruel to you? Does he use harsh language?" - -"He never said a word in his life either to me or, as I believe, to -any other human being, that he would think himself bound to regret." - -"What is it then?" - -"He simply chooses to have his own way, and his way cannot be my way. -He is hard, and dry, and just, and dispassionate, and he wishes me to -be the same. That is all." - -"I tell you fairly, Laura, as far as I am concerned, I never could -speak to him. He is antipathetic to me. But then I am not his wife." - -"I am;--and I suppose I must bear it." - -"Have you spoken to my father?" - -"No." - -"Or to Violet?" - -"Yes." - -"And what does she say?" - -"What can she say? She has nothing to say. Nor have you. Nor, if I am -driven to leave him, can I make the world understand why I do so. To -be simply miserable, as I am, is nothing to the world." - -"I could never understand why you married him." - -"Do not be cruel to me, Oswald." - -"Cruel! I will stick by you in any way that you wish. If you think -well of it, I will go off to Loughlinter to-morrow, and tell him that -you will never return to him. And if you are not safe from him here -at Saulsby, you shall go abroad with us. I am sure Violet would not -object. I will not be cruel to you." - -But in truth neither of Lady Laura's councillors was able to give -her advice that could serve her. She felt that she could not leave -her husband without other cause than now existed, although she felt, -also, that to go back to him was to go back to utter wretchedness. -And when she saw Violet and her brother together there came to her -dreams of what might have been her own happiness had she kept herself -free from those terrible bonds in which she was now held a prisoner. -She could not get out of her heart the remembrance of that young man -who would have been her lover, if she would have let him,--of whose -love for herself she had been aware before she had handed herself -over as a bale of goods to her unloved, unloving husband. She had -married Mr. Kennedy because she was afraid that otherwise she might -find herself forced to own that she loved that other man who was -then a nobody;--almost nobody. It was not Mr. Kennedy's money that -had bought her. This woman in regard to money had shown herself -to be as generous as the sun. But in marrying Mr. Kennedy she had -maintained herself in her high position, among the first of her own -people,--among the first socially and among the first politically. -But had she married Phineas,--had she become Lady Laura Finn,--there -would have been a great descent. She could not have entertained the -leading men of her party. She would not have been on a level with the -wives and daughters of Cabinet Ministers. She might, indeed, have -remained unmarried! But she knew that had she done so,--had she so -resolved,--that which she called her fancy would have been too strong -for her. She would not have remained unmarried. At that time it was -her fate to be either Lady Laura Kennedy or Lady Laura Finn. And she -had chosen to be Lady Laura Kennedy. To neither Violet Effingham nor -to her brother could she tell one half of the sorrow which afflicted -her. - -"I shall go back to Loughlinter," she said to her brother. - -"Do not, unless you wish it," he answered. - -"I do not wish it. But I shall do it. Mr. Kennedy is in London now, -and has been there since Parliament met, but he will be in Scotland -again in March, and I will go and meet him there. I told him that I -would do so when I left." - -"But you will go up to London?" - -"I suppose so. I must do as he tells me, of course. What I mean is, I -will try it for another year." - -"If it does not succeed, come to us." - -"I cannot say what I will do. I would die if I knew how. Never be a -tyrant, Oswald; or at any rate, not a cold tyrant. And remember this, -there is no tyranny to a woman like telling her of her duty. Talk of -beating a woman! Beating might often be a mercy." - -Lord Chiltern remained ten days at Saulsby, and at last did not get -away without a few unpleasant words with his father,--or without a -few words that were almost unpleasant with his mistress. On his first -arrival he had told his sister that he should go on a certain day, -and some intimation to this effect had probably been conveyed to the -Earl. But when his son told him one evening that the post-chaise had -been ordered for seven o'clock the next morning, he felt that his son -was ungracious and abrupt. There were many things still to be said, -and indeed there had been no speech of any account made at all as -yet. - -"That is very sudden," said the Earl. - -"I thought Laura had told you." - -"She has not told me a word lately. She may have said something -before you came here. What is there to hurry you?" - -"I thought ten days would be as long as you would care to have me -here, and as I said that I would be back by the first, I would rather -not change my plans." - -"You are going to hunt?" - -"Yes;--I shall hunt till the end of March." - -"You might have hunted here, Oswald." But the son made no sign of -changing his plans; and the father, seeing that he would not change -them, became solemn and severe. There were a few words which he must -say to his son,--something of a speech that he must make;--so he led -the way into the room with the dark books and the dark furniture, and -pointed to a great deep arm-chair for his son's accommodation. But as -he did not sit down himself, neither did Lord Chiltern. Lord Chiltern -understood very well how great is the advantage of a standing orator -over a sitting recipient of his oratory, and that advantage he would -not give to his father. "I had hoped to have an opportunity of saying -a few words to you about the future," said the Earl. - -"I think we shall be married in July," said Lord Chiltern. - -"So I have heard;--but after that. Now I do not want to interfere, -Oswald, and of course the less so, because Violet's money will to -a great degree restore the inroads which have been made upon the -property." - -"It will more than restore them altogether." - -"Not if her estate be settled on a second son, Oswald, and I hear -from Lady Baldock that that is the wish of her relations." - -"She shall have her own way,--as she ought. What that way is I do not -know. I have not even asked about it. She asked me, and I told her to -speak to you." - -"Of course I should wish it to go with the family property. Of course -that would be best." - -"She shall have her own way,--as far as I am concerned." - -"But it is not about that, Oswald, that I would speak. What are your -plans of life when you are married?" - -"Plans of life?" - -"Yes;--plans of life. I suppose you have some plans. I suppose you -mean to apply yourself to some useful occupation?" - -"I don't know really, sir, that I am of much use for any purpose." -Lord Chiltern laughed as he said this, but did not laugh pleasantly. - -"You would not be a drone in the hive always?" - -"As far as I can see, sir, we who call ourselves lords generally are -drones." - -"I deny it," said the Earl, becoming quite energetic as he defended -his order. "I deny it utterly. I know no class of men who do work -more useful or more honest. Am I a drone? Have I been so from my -youth upwards? I have always worked, either in the one House or -in the other, and those of my fellows with whom I have been most -intimate have worked also. The same career is open to you." - -"You mean politics?" - -"Of course I mean politics." - -"I don't care for politics. I see no difference in parties." - -"But you should care for politics, and you should see a difference in -parties. It is your duty to do so. My wish is that you should go into -Parliament." - -"I can't do that, sir." - -"And why not?" - -"In the first place, sir, you have not got a seat to offer me. -You have managed matters among you in such a way that poor little -Loughton has been swallowed up. If I were to canvass the electors of -Smotherem, I don't think that many would look very sweet on me." - -"There is the county, Oswald." - -"And whom am I to turn out? I should spend four or five thousand -pounds, and have nothing but vexation in return for it. I had rather -not begin that game, and indeed I am too old for Parliament. I did -not take it up early enough to believe in it." - -All this made the Earl very angry, and from these things they went -on to worse things. When questioned again as to the future, Lord -Chiltern scowled, and at last declared that it was his idea to live -abroad in the summer for his wife's recreation, and somewhere down -in the shires during the winter for his own. He would admit of no -purpose higher than recreation, and when his father again talked to -him of a nobleman's duty, he said that he knew of no other special -duty than that of not exceeding his income. Then his father made a -longer speech than before, and at the end of it Lord Chiltern simply -wished him good night. "It's getting late, and I've promised to see -Violet before I go to bed. Good-bye." Then he was off, and Lord -Brentford was left there, standing with his back to the fire. - -After that Lord Chiltern had a discussion with Violet, which lasted -nearly half the night; and during the discussion she told him more -than once that he was wrong. "Such as I am you must take me, or leave -me," he said, in anger. "Nay; there is no choice now," she answered. -"I have taken you, and I will stick by you,--whether you are right or -wrong. But when I think you wrong, I shall say so." He swore to her -as he pressed her to his heart that she was the finest, grandest, -sweetest woman that ever the world had produced. But still there was -present on his palate, when he left her, the bitter taste of her -reprimand. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI - -What the People in Marylebone Thought - - -Phineas Finn, when the session began, was still hard at work upon his -Canada bill, and in his work found some relief for his broken back. -He went into the matter with all his energy, and before the debate -came on, knew much more about the seven thousand inhabitants of some -hundreds of thousands of square miles at the back of Canada, than -he did of the people of London or of County Clare. And he found -some consolation also in the good-nature of Madame Goesler, whose -drawing-room was always open to him. He could talk freely now to -Madame Goesler about Violet, and had even ventured to tell her that -once, in old days, he had thought of loving Lady Laura Standish. -He spoke of those days as being very old; and then he perhaps said -some word to her about dear little Mary Flood Jones. I think that -there was not much in his career of which he did not say something -to Madame Goesler, and that he received from her a good deal of -excellent advice and encouragement in the direction of his political -ambition. "A man should work," she said,--"and you do work. A woman -can only look on, and admire and long. What is there that I can do? -I can learn to care for these Canadians, just because you care for -them. If it was the beavers that you told me of, I should have to -care for the beavers." Then Phineas of course told her that such -sympathy from her was all and all to him. But the reader must not -on this account suppose that he was untrue in his love to Violet -Effingham. His back was altogether broken by his fall, and he was -quite aware that such was the fact. Not as yet, at least, had come -to him any remotest idea that a cure was possible. - -Early in March he heard that Lady Laura was up in town, and of course -he was bound to go to her. The information was given to him by Mr. -Kennedy himself, who told him that he had been to Scotland to fetch -her. In these days there was an acknowledged friendship between these -two, but there was no intimacy. Indeed, Mr. Kennedy was a man who -was hardly intimate with any other man. With Phineas he now and -then exchanged a few words in the lobby of the House, and when they -chanced to meet each other, they met as friends. Mr. Kennedy had no -strong wish to see again in his house the man respecting whom he had -ventured to caution his wife; but he was thoughtful; and thinking -over it all, he found it better to ask him there. No one must know -that there was any reason why Phineas should not come to his house; -especially as all the world knew that Phineas had protected him from -the garrotters. "Lady Laura is in town now," he said; "you must go -and see her before long." Phineas of course promised that he would -go. - -In these days Phineas was beginning to be aware that he had -enemies,--though he could not understand why anybody should be his -enemy now that Violet Effingham had decided against him. There was -poor Laurence Fitzgibbon, indeed, whom he had superseded at the -Colonial Office, but Laurence Fitzgibbon, to give merit where merit -was due, felt no animosity against him at all. "You're welcome, me -boy; you're welcome,--as far as yourself goes. But as for the party, -bedad, it's rotten to the core, and won't stand another session. -Mind, it's I who tell you so." And the poor idle Irishman, in so -speaking, spoke the truth as well as he knew it. But the Ratlers and -the Bonteens were Finn's bitter foes, and did not scruple to let him -know that such was the case. Barrington Erle had scruples on the -subject, and in a certain mildly apologetic way still spoke well of -the young man, whom he had himself first introduced into political -life only four years since;--but there was no earnestness or -cordiality in Barrington Erle's manner, and Phineas knew that his -first staunch friend could no longer be regarded as a pillar of -support. But there was a set of men, quite as influential,--so -Phineas thought,--as the busy politicians of the club, who were very -friendly to him. These were men, generally of high position, of -steady character,--hard workers,--who thought quite as much of what -a man did in his office as what he said in the House. Lords Cantrip, -Thrift, and Fawn were of this class,--and they were all very -courteous to Phineas. Envious men began to say of him that he cared -little now for any one of the party who had not a handle to his name, -and that he preferred to live with lords and lordlings. This was hard -upon him, as the great political ambition of his life was to call Mr. -Monk his friend; and he would sooner have acted with Mr. Monk than -with any other man in the Cabinet. But though Mr. Monk had not -deserted him, there had come to be little of late in common between -the two. His life was becoming that of a parliamentary official -rather than that of a politician;--whereas, though Mr. Monk was in -office, his public life was purely political. Mr. Monk had great -ideas of his own which he intended to hold, whether by holding them -he might remain in office or be forced out of office; and he was -indifferent as to the direction which things in this respect might -take with him. But Phineas, who had achieved his declared object in -getting into place, felt that he was almost constrained to adopt -the views of others, let them be what they might. Men spoke to him, -as though his parliamentary career were wholly at the disposal of -the Government,--as though he were like a proxy in Mr. Gresham's -pocket,--with this difference, that when directed to get up and -speak on a subject he was bound to do so. This annoyed him, and he -complained to Mr. Monk; but Mr. Monk only shrugged his shoulders and -told him that he must make his choice. He soon discovered Mr. Monk's -meaning. "If you choose to make Parliament a profession,--as you have -chosen,--you can have no right even to think of independence. If the -country finds you out when you are in Parliament, and then invites -you to office, of course the thing is different. But the latter is a -slow career, and probably would not have suited you." That was the -meaning of what Mr. Monk said to him. After all, these official and -parliamentary honours were greater when seen at a distance than he -found them to be now that he possessed them. Mr. Low worked ten hours -a day, and could rarely call a day his own; but, after all, with all -this work, Mr. Low was less of a slave, and more independent, than -was he, Phineas Finn, Under-Secretary of State, the friend of Cabinet -Ministers, and Member of Parliament since his twenty-fifth year! He -began to dislike the House, and to think it a bore to sit on the -Treasury bench;--he, who a few years since had regarded Parliament -as the British heaven on earth, and who, since he had been in -Parliament, had looked at that bench with longing envious eyes. -Laurence Fitzgibbon, who seemed to have as much to eat and drink as -ever, and a bed also to lie on, could come and go in the House as he -pleased, since his--resignation. - -And there was a new trouble coming. The Reform Bill for England had -passed; but now there was to be another Reform Bill for Ireland. Let -them pass what bill they might, this would not render necessary a -new Irish election till the entire House should be dissolved. But he -feared that he would be called upon to vote for the abolition of his -own borough,--and for other points almost equally distasteful to him. -He knew that he would not be consulted,--but would be called upon to -vote, and perhaps to speak; and was certain that if he did so, there -would be war between him and his constituents. Lord Tulla had already -communicated to him his ideas that, for certain excellent reasons, -Loughshane ought to be spared. But this evil was, he hoped, a distant -one. It was generally thought that, as the English Reform Bill had -been passed last year, and as the Irish bill, if carried, could not -be immediately operative, the doing of the thing might probably be -postponed to the next session. - -When he first saw Lady Laura he was struck by the great change in her -look and manner. She seemed to him to be old and worn, and he judged -her to be wretched,--as she was. She had written to him to say that -she would be at her father's house on such and such a morning, and -he had gone to her there. "It is of no use your coming to Grosvenor -Place," she said. "I see nobody there, and the house is like a -prison." Later in the interview she told him not to come and dine -there, even though Mr. Kennedy should ask him. - -"And why not?" he demanded. - -"Because everything would be stiff, and cold, and uncomfortable. I -suppose you do not wish to make your way into a lady's house if she -asks you not." There was a sort of smile on her face as she said -this, but he could perceive that it was a very bitter smile. "You can -easily excuse yourself." - -"Yes, I can excuse myself." - -"Then do so. If you are particularly anxious to dine with Mr. -Kennedy, you can easily do so at your club." In the tone of her -voice, and the words she used, she hardly attempted to conceal her -dislike of her husband. - -"And now tell me about Miss Effingham," he said. - -"There is nothing for me to tell." - -"Yes there is;--much to tell. You need not spare me. I do not pretend -to deny to you that I have been hit hard,--so hard, that I have been -nearly knocked down; but it will not hurt me now to hear of it all. -Did she always love him?" - -"I cannot say. I think she did after her own fashion." - -"I sometimes think women would be less cruel," he said, "if they knew -how great is the anguish they can cause." - -"Has she been cruel to you?" - -"I have nothing to complain of. But if she loved Chiltern, why did -she not tell him so at once? And why--" - -"This is complaining, Mr. Finn." - -"I will not complain. I would not even think of it, if I could help -it. Are they to be married soon?" - -"In July;--so they now say." - -"And where will they live?" - -"Ah! no one can tell. I do not think that they agree as yet as to -that. But if she has a strong wish Oswald will yield to it. He was -always generous." - -"I would not even have had a wish,--except to have her with me." - -There was a pause for a moment, and then Lady Laura answered him with -a touch of scorn in her voice,--and with some scorn, too, in her -eye:--"That is all very well, Mr. Finn; but the season will not be -over before there is some one else." - -"There you wrong me." - -"They tell me that you are already at Madame Goesler's feet." - -"Madame Goesler!" - -"What matters who it is as long as she is young and pretty, and -has the interest attached to her of something more than ordinary -position? When men tell me of the cruelty of women, I think that no -woman can be really cruel because no man is capable of suffering. A -woman, if she is thrown aside, does suffer." - -"Do you mean to tell me, then, that I am indifferent to Miss -Effingham?" When he thus spoke, I wonder whether he had forgotten -that he had ever declared to this very woman to whom he was speaking, -a passion for herself. - -"Psha!" - -"It suits you, Lady Laura, to be harsh to me, but you are not -speaking your thoughts." - -Then she lost all control of herself, and poured out to him the real -truth that was in her. "And whose thoughts did you speak when you and -I were on the braes of Loughlinter? Am I wrong in saying that change -is easy to you, or have I grown to be so old that you can talk to me -as though those far-away follies ought to be forgotten? Was it so -long ago? Talk of love! I tell you, sir, that your heart is one in -which love can have no durable hold. Violet Effingham! There may be -a dozen Violets after her, and you will be none the worse." Then she -walked away from him to the window, and he stood still, dumb, on the -spot that he had occupied. "You had better go now," she said, "and -forget what has passed between us. I know that you are a gentleman, -and that you will forget it." The strong idea of his mind when he -heard all this was the injustice of her attack,--of the attack as -coming from her, who had all but openly acknowledged that she had -married a man whom she had not loved because it suited her to escape -from a man whom she did love. She was reproaching him now for his -fickleness in having ventured to set his heart upon another woman, -when she herself had been so much worse than fickle,--so profoundly -false! And yet he could not defend himself by accusing her. What -would she have had of him? What would she have proposed to him, had -he questioned her as to his future, when they were together on the -braes of Loughlinter? Would she not have bid him to find some one -else whom he could love? Would she then have suggested to him the -propriety of nursing his love for herself,--for her who was about -to become another man's wife,--for her after she should have become -another man's wife? And yet because he had not done so, and because -she had made herself wretched by marrying a man whom she did not -love, she reproached him! - -He could not tell her of all this, so he fell back for his defence on -words which had passed between them since the day when they had met -on the braes. "Lady Laura," he said, "it is only a month or two since -you spoke to me as though you wished that Violet Effingham might be -my wife." - -"I never wished it. I never said that I wished it. There are moments -in which we try to give a child any brick on the chimney top for -which it may whimper." Then there was another silence which she was -the first to break. "You had better go," she said. "I know that I -have committed myself, and of course I would rather be alone." - -"And what would you wish that I should do?" - -"Do?" she said. "What you do can be nothing to me." - -"Must we be strangers, you and I, because there was a time in which -we were almost more than friends?" - -"I have spoken nothing about myself, sir,--only as I have been drawn -to do so by your pretence of being love-sick. You can do nothing for -me,--nothing,--nothing. What is it possible that you should do for -me? You are not my father, or my brother." It is not to be supposed -that she wanted him to fall at her feet. It is to be supposed that -had he done so her reproaches would have been hot and heavy on -him; but yet it almost seemed to him as though he had no other -alternative. No!--He was not her father or her brother;--nor could he -be her husband. And at this very moment, as she knew, his heart was -sore with love for another woman. And yet he hardly knew how not to -throw himself at her feet, and swear, that he would return now and -for ever to his old passion, hopeless, sinful, degraded as it would -be. - -"I wish it were possible for me to do something," he said, drawing -near to her. - -"There is nothing to be done," she said, clasping her hands together. -"For me nothing. I have before me no escape, no hope, no prospect of -relief, no place of consolation. You have everything before you. You -complain of a wound! You have at least shown that such wounds with -you are capable of cure. You cannot but feel that when I hear your -wailings, I must be impatient. You had better leave me now, if you -please." - -"And are we to be no longer friends?" he asked. - -"As far as friendship can go without intercourse, I shall always be -your friend." - -Then he went, and as he walked down to his office, so intent was he -on that which had just passed that he hardly saw the people as he -met them, or was aware of the streets through which his way led him. -There had been something in the later words which Lady Laura had -spoken that had made him feel almost unconsciously that the injustice -of her reproaches was not so great as he had at first felt it to be, -and that she had some cause for her scorn. If her case was such as -she had so plainly described it, what was his plight as compared with -hers? He had lost his Violet, and was in pain. There must be much -of suffering before him. But though Violet were lost, the world was -not all blank before his eyes. He had not told himself, even in his -dreariest moments, that there was before him "no escape, no hope, no -prospect of relief, no place of consolation." And then he began to -think whether this must in truth be the case with Lady Laura. What if -Mr. Kennedy were to die? What in such case as that would he do? In -ten or perhaps in five years time might it not be possible for him -to go through the ceremony of falling upon his knees, with stiffened -joints indeed, but still with something left of the ardour of his old -love, of his oldest love of all? - -As he was thinking of this he was brought up short in his walk as he -was entering the Green Park beneath the Duke's figure, by Laurence -Fitzgibbon. "How dare you not be in your office at such an hour as -this, Finn, me boy,--or, at least, not in the House,--or serving your -masters after some fashion?" said the late Under-Secretary. - -"So I am. I've been on a message to Marylebone, to find what the -people there think about the Canadas." - -"And what do they think about the Canadas in Marylebone?" - -"Not one man in a thousand cares whether the Canadians prosper or -fail to prosper. They care that Canada should not go to the States, -because,--though they don't love the Canadians, they do hate the -Americans. That's about the feeling in Marylebone,--and it's -astonishing how like the Maryleboners are to the rest of the world." - -"Dear me, what a fellow you are for an Under-Secretary! You've heard -the news about little Violet." - -"What news?" - -"She has quarrelled with Chiltern, you know." - -"Who says so?" - -"Never mind who says so, but they tell me it's true. Take an old -friend's advice, and strike while the iron's hot." - -Phineas did not believe what he had heard, but though he did not -believe it, still the tidings set his heart beating. He would have -believed it less perhaps had he known that Laurence had just received -the news from Mrs. Bonteen. - - - - -CHAPTER LVII - -The Top Brick of the Chimney - - -Madame Max Goesler was a lady who knew that in fighting the battles -which fell to her lot, in arranging the social difficulties which she -found in her way, in doing the work of the world which came to her -share, very much more care was necessary,--and care too about things -apparently trifling,--than was demanded by the affairs of people in -general. And this was not the case so much on account of any special -disadvantage under which she laboured, as because she was ambitious -of doing the very uttermost with those advantages which she -possessed. Her own birth had not been high, and that of her husband, -we may perhaps say, had been very low. He had been old when she had -married him, and she had had little power of making any progress till -he had left her a widow. Then she found herself possessed of money, -certainly; of wit,--as she believed; and of a something in her -personal appearance which, as she plainly told herself, she might -perhaps palm off upon the world as beauty. She was a woman who did -not flatter herself, who did not strongly believe in herself, who -could even bring herself to wonder that men and women in high -position should condescend to notice such a one as her. With all her -ambition, there was a something of genuine humility about her; and -with all the hardness she had learned there was a touch of womanly -softness which would sometimes obtrude itself upon her heart. When -she found a woman really kind to her, she would be very kind in -return. And though she prized wealth, and knew that her money was her -only rock of strength, she could be lavish with it, as though it were -dirt. - -But she was highly ambitious, and she played her game with -great skill and great caution. Her doors were not open to all -callers;--were shut even to some who find but few doors closed -against them;--were shut occasionally to those whom she most -specially wished to see within them. She knew how to allure by -denying, and to make the gift rich by delaying it. We are told by the -Latin proverb that he who gives quickly gives twice; but I say that -she who gives quickly seldom gives more than half. When in the early -spring the Duke of Omnium first knocked at Madame Max Goesler's door, -he was informed that she was not at home. The Duke felt very cross as -he handed his card out from his dark green brougham,--on the panel -of which there was no blazon to tell the owner's rank. He was very -cross. She had told him that she was always at home between four and -six on a Thursday. He had condescended to remember the information, -and had acted upon it,--and now she was not at home! She was not at -home, though he had come on a Thursday at the very hour she had named -to him. Any duke would have been cross, but the Duke of Omnium was -particularly cross. No;--he certainly would give himself no further -trouble by going to the cottage in Park Lane. And yet Madame Max -Goesler had been in her own drawing-room, while the Duke was handing -out his card from the brougham below. - -On the next morning there came to him a note from the cottage,--such -a pretty note!--so penitent, so full of remorse,--and, which was -better still, so laden with disappointment, that he forgave her. - - - MY DEAR DUKE, - - I hardly know how to apologise to you, after having told - you that I am always at home on Thursdays; and I was at - home yesterday when you called. But I was unwell, and I - had told the servant to deny me, not thinking how much I - might be losing. Indeed, indeed, I would not have given - way to a silly headache, had I thought that your Grace - would have been here. I suppose that now I must not even - hope for the photograph. - - Yours penitently, - - MARIE M. G. - - -The note-paper was very pretty note-paper, hardly scented, and yet -conveying a sense of something sweet, and the monogram was small and -new, and fantastic without being grotesque, and the writing was of -that sort which the Duke, having much experience, had learned to -like,--and there was something in the signature which pleased him. So -he wrote a reply,-- - - - DEAR MADAME MAX GOESLER, - - I will call again next Thursday, or, if prevented, will - let you know. - - Yours faithfully, - - O. - - -When the green brougham drew up at the door of the cottage on the -next Thursday, Madame Goesler was at home, and had no headache. - -She was not at all penitent now. She had probably studied the -subject, and had resolved that penitence was more alluring in a -letter than when acted in person. She received her guest with perfect -ease, and apologised for the injury done to him in the preceding -week, with much self-complacency. "I was so sorry when I got your -card," she said; "and yet I am so glad now that you were refused." - -"If you were ill," said the Duke, "it was better." - -"I was horribly ill, to tell the truth;--as pale as a death's head, -and without a word to say for myself. I was fit to see no one." - -"Then of course you were right." - -"But it flashed upon me immediately that I had named a day, and that -you had been kind enough to remember it. But I did not think you came -to London till the March winds were over." - -"The March winds blow everywhere in this wretched island, Madame -Goesler, and there is no escaping them. Youth may prevail against -them; but on me they are so potent that I think they will succeed in -driving me out of my country. I doubt whether an old man should ever -live in England if he can help it." - -The Duke certainly was an old man, if a man turned of seventy be -old;--and he was a man too who did not bear his years with hearty -strength. He moved slowly, and turned his limbs, when he did turn -them, as though the joints were stiff in their sockets. But there was -nevertheless about him a dignity of demeanour, a majesty of person, -and an upright carriage which did not leave an idea of old age as -the first impress on the minds of those who encountered the Duke of -Omnium. He was tall and moved without a stoop; and though he moved -slowly, he had learned to seem so to do because it was the proper -kind of movement for one so high up in the world as himself. And -perhaps his tailor did something for him. He had not been long under -Madame Max Goesler's eyes before she perceived that his tailor had -done a good deal for him. When he alluded to his own age and to -her youth, she said some pleasant little word as to the difference -between oak-trees and currant-bushes; and by that time she was -seated comfortably on her sofa, and the Duke was on a chair before -her,--just as might have been any man who was not a Duke. - -After a little time the photograph was brought forth from his Grace's -pocket. That bringing out and giving of photographs, with the demand -for counter photographs, is the most absurd practice of the day. -"I don't think I look very nice, do I?" "Oh yes,--very nice, but a -little too old; and certainly you haven't got those spots all over -your forehead. These are the remarks which on such occasions are the -most common. It may be said that to give a photograph or to take a -photograph without the utterance of some words which would be felt by -a bystander to be absurd, is almost an impossibility. At this moment -there was no bystander, and therefore the Duke and the lady had no -need for caution. Words were spoken that were very absurd. Madame -Goesler protested that the Duke's photograph was more to her than the -photographs of all the world beside; and the Duke declared that he -would carry the lady's picture next to his heart,--I am afraid he -said for ever and ever. Then he took her hand and pressed it, and was -conscious that for a man over seventy years of age he did that kind -of thing very well. - -"You will come and dine with me, Duke?" she said, when he began to -talk of going. - -"I never dine out." - -"That is just the reason you should dine with me. You shall meet -nobody you do not wish to meet." - -"I would so much rather see you in this way,--I would indeed. I do -dine out occasionally, but it is at big formal parties, which I -cannot escape without giving offence." - -"And you cannot escape my little not formal party,--without giving -offence." She looked into his face as she spoke, and he knew that she -meant it. And he looked into hers, and thought that her eyes were -brighter than any he was in the habit of seeing in these latter days. -"Name your own day, Duke. Will a Sunday suit you?" - -"If I must come--" - -"You must come." As she spoke her eyes sparkled more and more, and -her colour went and came, and she shook her curls till they emitted -through the air the same soft feeling of a perfume that her note had -produced. Then her foot peeped out from beneath the black and yellow -drapery of her dress, and the Duke saw that it was perfect. And she -put out her finger and touched his arm as she spoke. Her hand was -very fair, and her fingers were bright with rich gems. To men such as -the Duke, a hand, to be quite fair, should be bright with rich gems. -"You must come," she said,--not imploring him now but commanding him. - -"Then I will come," he answered, and a certain Sunday was fixed. - -The arranging of the guests was a little difficulty, till Madame -Goesler begged the Duke to bring with him Lady Glencora Palliser, -his nephew's wife. This at last he agreed to do. As the wife of his -nephew and heir, Lady Glencora was to the Duke all that a woman could -be. She was everything that was proper as to her own conduct, and not -obtrusive as to his. She did not bore him, and yet she was attentive. -Although in her husband's house she was a fierce politician, in his -house she was simply an attractive woman. "Ah; she is very clever," -the Duke once said, "she adapts herself. If she were to go from any -one place to any other, she would be at home in both." And the -movement of his Grace's hand as he spoke seemed to indicate the -widest possible sphere for travelling and the widest possible -scope for adaptation. The dinner was arranged, and went off very -pleasantly. Madame Goesler's eyes were not quite so bright as they -were during that morning visit, nor did she touch her guest's arm in -a manner so alluring. She was very quiet, allowing her guests to do -most of the talking. But the dinner and the flowers and the wine were -excellent, and the whole thing was so quiet that the Duke liked it. -"And now you must come and dine with me," the Duke said as he took -his leave. "A command to that effect will be one which I certainly -shall not disobey," whispered Madame Goesler. - -"I am afraid he is going to get fond of that woman." These words -were spoken early on the following morning by Lady Glencora to her -husband, Mr. Palliser. - -"He is always getting fond of some woman, and he will to the end," -said Mr. Palliser. - -"But this Madame Max Goesler is very clever." - -"So they tell me. I have generally thought that my uncle likes -talking to a fool the best." - -"Every man likes a clever woman the best," said Lady Glencora, "if -the clever woman only knows how to use her cleverness." - -"I'm sure I hope he'll be amused," said Mr. Palliser innocently. "A -little amusement is all that he cares for now." - -"Suppose you were told some day that he was going--to be married?" -said Lady Glencora. - -"My uncle married!" - -"Why not he as well as another?" - -"And to Madame Goesler?" - -"If he be ever married it will be to some such woman." - -"There is not a man in all England who thinks more of his own -position than my uncle," said Mr. Palliser somewhat proudly,--almost -with a touch of anger. - -"That is all very well, Plantagenet, and true enough in a kind of -way. But a child will sacrifice all that it has for the top brick -of the chimney, and old men sometimes become children. You would -not like to be told some morning that there was a little Lord -Silverbridge in the world." Now the eldest son of the Duke of -Omnium, when the Duke of Omnium had a son, was called the Earl of -Silverbridge; and Mr. Palliser, when this question was asked him, -became very pale. Mr. Palliser knew well how thoroughly the cunning -of the serpent was joined to the purity of the dove in the person -of his wife, and he was sure that there was cause for fear when she -hinted at danger. - -"Perhaps you had better keep your eye upon him," he said to his wife. - -"And upon her," said Lady Glencora. - -When Madame Goesler dined at the Duke's house in St. James's Square -there was a large party, and Lady Glencora knew that there was no -need for apprehension then. Indeed Madame Goesler was no more than -any other guest, and the Duke hardly spoke to her. There was a -Duchess there,--the Duchess of St. Bungay, and old Lady Hartletop, -who was a dowager marchioness,--an old lady who pestered the Duke -very sorely,--and Madame Max Goesler received her reward, and knew -that she was receiving it, in being asked to meet these people. Would -not all these names, including her own, be blazoned to the world in -the columns of the next day's _Morning Post_? There was no absolute -danger here, as Lady Glencora knew; and Lady Glencora, who was -tolerant and begrudged nothing to Madame Max except the one thing, -was quite willing to meet the lady at such a grand affair as this. -But the Duke, even should he become ever so childish a child in his -old age, still would have that plain green brougham at his command, -and could go anywhere in that at any hour in the day. And then -Madame Goesler was so manifestly a clever woman. A Duchess of Omnium -might be said to fill,--in the estimation, at any rate, of English -people,--the highest position in the world short of royalty. And the -reader will remember that Lady Glencora intended to be a Duchess of -Omnium herself,--unless some very unexpected event should intrude -itself. She intended also that her little boy, her fair-haired, -curly-pated, bold-faced little boy, should be Earl of Silverbridge -when the sand of the old man should have run itself out. Heavens, -what a blow would it be, should some little wizen-cheeked half-monkey -baby, with black brows, and yellow skin, be brought forward and shown -to her some day as the heir! What a blow to herself;--and what a blow -to all England! "We can't prevent it if he chooses to do it," said -her husband, who had his budget to bring forward that very night, and -who in truth cared more for his budget than he did for his heirship -at that moment. "But we must prevent it," said Lady Glencora. "If I -stick to him by the tail of his coat, I'll prevent it." At the time -when she thus spoke, the dark green brougham had been twice again -brought up at the door in Park Lane. - -And the brougham was standing there a third time. It was May now, the -latter end of May, and the park opposite was beautiful with green -things, and the air was soft and balmy, as it will be sometimes even -in May, and the flowers in the balcony were full of perfume, and the -charm of London,--what London can be to the rich,--was at its height. -The Duke was sitting in Madame Goesler's drawing-room, at some -distance from her, for she had retreated. The Duke had a habit -of taking her hand, which she never would permit for above a few -seconds. At such times she would show no anger, but would retreat. - -"Marie," said the Duke, "you will go abroad when the summer is over." -As an old man he had taken the privilege of calling her Marie, and -she had not forbidden it. - -Yes, probably; to Vienna. I have property in Vienna you know, which -must be looked after. - -"Do not mind Vienna this year. Come to Italy." - -"What; in summer, Duke?" - -"The lakes are charming in August. I have a villa on Como which is -empty now, and I think I shall go there. If you do not know the -Italian lakes, I shall be so happy to show them to you." - -"I know them well, my lord. When I was young I was on the Maggiore -almost alone. Some day I will tell you a history of what I was in -those days." - -"You shall tell it me there." - -"No, my lord, I fear not. I have no villa there." - -"Will you not accept the loan of mine? It shall be all your own while -you use it." - -"My own,--to deny the right of entrance to its owner?" - -"If it so pleases you." - -"It would not please me. It would so far from please me that I will -never put myself in a position that might make it possible for me to -require to do so. No, Duke; it behoves me to live in houses of my -own. Women of whom more is known can afford to be your guests." - -"Marie, I would have no other guest than you." - -"It cannot be so, Duke." - -"And why not?" - -"Why not? Am I to be put to the blush by being made to answer such a -question as that? Because the world would say that the Duke of Omnium -had a new mistress, and that Madame Goesler was the woman. Do you -think that I would be any man's mistress;--even yours? Or do you -believe that for the sake of the softness of a summer evening on an -Italian lake, I would give cause to the tongues of the women here to -say that I was such a thing? You would have me lose all that I have -gained by steady years of sober work for the sake of a week or two of -dalliance such as that! No, Duke; not for your dukedom!" - -How his Grace might have got through his difficulty had they been -left alone, cannot be told. For at this moment the door was opened, -and Lady Glencora Palliser was announced. - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII - -Rara Avis in Terris - - -"Come and see the country and judge for yourself," said Phineas. - -"I should like nothing better," said Mr. Monk. - -"It has often seemed to me that men in Parliament know less about -Ireland than they do of the interior of Africa," said Phineas. - -"It is seldom that we know anything accurately on any subject that -we have not made matter of careful study," said Mr. Monk, "and very -often do not do so even then. We are very apt to think that we men -and women understand one another; but most probably you know nothing -even of the modes of thought of the man who lives next door to you." - -"I suppose not." - -"There are general laws current in the world as to morality. 'Thou -shalt not steal,' for instance. That has necessarily been current as -a law through all nations. But the first man you meet in the street -will have ideas about theft so different from yours, that, if you -knew them as you know your own, you would say that this law and yours -were not even founded on the same principle. It is compatible with -this man's honesty to cheat you in a matter of horseflesh, with that -man's in a traffic of railway shares, with that other man's as to a -woman's fortune; with a fourth's anything may be done for a seat in -Parliament, while the fifth man, who stands high among us, and who -implores his God every Sunday to write that law on his heart, spends -every hour of his daily toil in a system of fraud, and is regarded as -a pattern of the national commerce!" - -Mr. Monk and Phineas were dining together at Mr. Monk's house, and -the elder politician of the two in this little speech had recurred to -certain matters which had already been discussed between them. Mr. -Monk was becoming somewhat sick of his place in the Cabinet, though -he had not as yet whispered a word of his sickness to any living -ears; and he had begun to pine for the lost freedom of a seat below -the gangway. He had been discussing political honesty with Phineas, -and hence had come the sermon of which I have ventured to reproduce -the concluding denunciations. - -Phineas was fond of such discussions and fond of holding them with -Mr. Monk,--in this matter fluttering like a moth round a candle. He -would not perceive that as he had made up his mind to be a servant -of the public in Parliament, he must abandon all idea of independent -action; and unless he did so he could be neither successful as -regarded himself, or useful to the public whom he served. Could a man -be honest in Parliament, and yet abandon all idea of independence? -When he put such questions to Mr. Monk he did not get a direct -answer. And indeed the question was never put directly. But the -teaching which he received was ever of a nature to make him uneasy. -It was always to this effect: "You have taken up the trade now, and -seem to be fit for success in it. You had better give up thinking -about its special honesty." And yet Mr. Monk would on an occasion -preach to him such a sermon as that which he had just uttered! -Perhaps there is no question more difficult to a man's mind than that -of the expediency or inexpediency of scruples in political life. -Whether would a candidate for office be more liable to rejection from -a leader because he was known to be scrupulous, or because he was -known to be the reverse? - -"But putting aside the fourth commandment and all the theories, you -will come to Ireland?" said Phineas. - -"I shall be delighted." - -"I don't live in a castle, you know." - -"I thought everybody did live in a castle in Ireland," said Mr. Monk. -"They seemed to do when I was there twenty years ago. But for myself, -I prefer a cottage." - -This trip to Ireland had been proposed in consequence of certain -ideas respecting tenant-right which Mr. Monk was beginning to adopt, -and as to which the minds of politicians were becoming moved. It -had been all very well to put down Fenianism, and Ribandmen, and -Repeal,--and everything that had been put down in Ireland in the way -of rebellion for the last seventy-five years. England and Ireland -had been apparently joined together by laws of nature so fixed, -that even politicians liberal as was Mr. Monk,--liberal as was Mr. -Turnbull,--could not trust themselves to think that disunion could -be for the good of the Irish. They had taught themselves that it -certainly could not be good for the English. But if it was incumbent -on England to force upon Ireland the maintenance of the Union for her -own sake, and for England's sake, because England could not afford -independence established so close against her own ribs,--it was at -any rate necessary to England's character that the bride thus -bound in a compulsory wedlock should be endowed with all the best -privileges that a wife can enjoy. Let her at least not be a kept -mistress. Let it be bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh, if we -are to live together in the married state. Between husband and -wife a warm word now and then matters but little, if there be a -thoroughly good understanding at bottom. But let there be that good -understanding at bottom. What about this Protestant Church; and what -about this tenant-right? Mr. Monk had been asking himself these -questions for some time past. In regard to the Church, he had long -made up his mind that the Establishment in Ireland was a crying sin. -A man had married a woman whom he knew to be of a religion different -from his own, and then insisted that his wife should say that she -believed those things which he knew very well that she did not -believe. But, as Mr. Monk well knew, the subject of the Protestant -Endowments in Ireland was so difficult that it would require almost -more than human wisdom to adjust it. It was one of those matters -which almost seemed to require the interposition of some higher -power,--the coming of some apparently chance event,--to clear away -the evil; as a fire comes, and pestilential alleys are removed; as a -famine comes, and men are driven from want and ignorance and dirt to -seek new homes and new thoughts across the broad waters; as a war -comes, and slavery is banished from the face of the earth. But in -regard to tenant-right, to some arrangement by which a tenant in -Ireland might be at least encouraged to lay out what little capital -he might have in labour or money without being at once called upon to -pay rent for that outlay which was his own, as well as for the land -which was not his own,--Mr. Monk thought that it was possible that if -a man would look hard enough he might perhaps be able to see his way -as to that. He had spoken to two of his colleagues on the subject, -the two men in the Cabinet whom he believed to be the most thoroughly -honest in their ideas as public servants, the Duke and Mr. Gresham. -There was so much to be done;--and then so little was known upon the -subject! "I will endeavour to study it," said Mr. Monk. "If you can -see your way, do;" said Mr. Gresham,--"but of course we cannot bind -ourselves." "I should be glad to see it named in the Queen's speech -at the beginning of the next session," said Mr. Monk. "That is a long -way off as yet," said Mr. Gresham, laughing. "Who will be in then, -and who will be out?" So the matter was disposed of at the time, but -Mr. Monk did not abandon his idea. He rather felt himself the more -bound to cling to it because he received so little encouragement. -What was a seat in the Cabinet to him that he should on that account -omit a duty? He had not taken up politics as a trade. He had sat -far behind the Treasury bench or below the gangway for many a year, -without owing any man a shilling,--and could afford to do so again. - -But it was different with Phineas Finn, as Mr. Monk himself -understood;--and, understanding this, he felt himself bound to -caution his young friend. But it may be a question whether his -cautions did not do more harm than good. "I shall be delighted," he -said, "to go over with you in August, but I do not think that if I -were you, I would take up this matter." - -"And why not? You don't want to fight the battle singlehanded?" - -"No; I desire no such glory, and would wish to have no better -lieutenant than you. But you have a subject of which you are really -fond, which you are beginning to understand, and in regard to which -you can make yourself useful." - -"You mean this Canada business?" - -"Yes;--and that will grow to other matters as regards the colonies. -There is nothing so important to a public man as that he should have -his own subject;--the thing which he understands, and in respect of -which he can make himself really useful." - -"Then there comes a change." - -"Yes;--and the man who has half learned how to have a ship built -without waste is sent into opposition, and is then brought back -to look after regiments, or perhaps has to take up that beautiful -subject, a study of the career of India. But, nevertheless, if you -have a subject, stick to it at any rate as long as it will stick to -you." - -"But," said Phineas, "if a man takes up his own subject, independent -of the Government, no man can drive him from it." - -"And how often does he do anything? Look at the annual motions which -come forward in the hands of private men,--Maynooth and the ballot -for instance. It is becoming more and more apparent every day that -all legislation must be carried by the Government, and must be -carried in obedience to the expressed wish of the people. The truest -democracy that ever had a chance of living is that which we are now -establishing in Great Britain." - -"Then leave tenant-right to the people and the Cabinet. Why should -you take it up?" - -Mr. Monk paused a moment or two before he replied. "If I choose to -run a-muck, there is no reason why you should follow me. I am old and -you are young. I want nothing from politics as a profession, and you -do. Moreover, you have a congenial subject where you are, and need -not disturb yourself. For myself, I tell you, in confidence, that I -cannot speak so comfortably of my own position." - -"We will go and see, at any rate," said Phineas. - -"Yes," said Mr. Monk, "we will go and see." And thus, in the month of -May, it was settled between them that, as soon as the session should -be over, and the incidental work of his office should allow Phineas -to pack up and be off, they two should start together for Ireland. -Phineas felt rather proud as he wrote to his father and asked -permission to bring home with him a Cabinet Minister as a visitor. At -this time the reputation of Phineas at Killaloe, as well in the minds -of the Killaloeians generally as in those of the inhabitants of the -paternal house, stood very high indeed. How could a father think that -a son had done badly when before he was thirty years of age he was -earning L2,000 a year? And how could a father not think well of a -son who had absolutely paid back certain moneys into the paternal -coffers? The moneys so repaid had not been much; but the repayment -of any such money at Killaloe had been regarded as little short of -miraculous. The news of Mr. Monk's coming flew about the town, about -the county, about the diocese, and all people began to say all good -things about the old doctor's only son. Mrs. Finn had long since -been quite sure that a real black swan had been sent forth out of -her nest. And the sisters Finn, for some time past, had felt in -all social gatherings they stood quite on a different footing than -formerly because of their brother. They were asked about in the -county, and two of them had been staying only last Easter with the -Molonys,--the Molonys of Poldoodie! How should a father and a mother -and sisters not be grateful to such a son, to such a brother, to such -a veritable black swan out of the nest! And as for dear little Mary -Flood Jones, her eyes became suffused with tears as in her solitude -she thought how much out of her reach this swan was flying. And yet -she took joy in his swanhood, and swore that she would love him -still;--that she would love him always. Might he bring home with him -to Killaloe, Mr. Monk, the Cabinet Minister! Of course he might. When -Mrs. Finn first heard of this august arrival, she felt as though she -would like to expend herself in entertaining, though but an hour, the -whole cabinet. - -Phineas, during the spring, had, of course, met Mr. Kennedy -frequently in and about the House, and had become aware that Lady -Laura's husband, from time to time, made little overtures of civility -to him,--taking him now and again by the button-hole, walking home -with him as far as their joint paths allowed, and asking him once -or twice to come and dine in Grosvenor Place. These little advances -towards a repetition of the old friendship Phineas would have avoided -altogether, had it been possible. The invitation to Mr. Kennedy's -house he did refuse, feeling himself positively bound to do so by -Lady Laura's command, let the consequences be what they might. When -he did refuse, Mr. Kennedy would assume a look of displeasure and -leave him, and Phineas would hope that the work was done. Then there -would come another encounter, and the invitation would be repeated. -At last, about the middle of May, there came another note. "Dear -Finn, will you dine with us on Wednesday, the 28th? I give you a long -notice, because you seem to have so many appointments. Yours always, -Robert Kennedy." He had no alternative. He must refuse, even though -double the notice had been given. He could only think that Mr. -Kennedy was a very obtuse man and one who would not take a hint, -and hope that he might succeed at last. So he wrote an answer, not -intended to be conciliatory. "My dear Kennedy, I am sorry to say that -I am engaged on the 28th. Yours always, Phineas Finn." At this period -he did his best to keep out of Mr. Kennedy's way, and would be very -cunning in his manoeuvres that they should not be alone together. -It was difficult, as they sat on the same bench in the House, -and consequently saw each other almost every day of their lives. -Nevertheless, he thought that with a little cunning he might prevail, -especially as he was not unwilling to give so much of offence as -might assist his own object. But when Mr. Kennedy called upon him at -his office the day after he had written the above note, he had no -means of escape. - -"I am sorry you cannot come to us on the 28th," Mr. Kennedy said, as -soon as he was seated. - -Phineas was taken so much by surprise that all his cunning failed -him. "Well, yes," said he; "I was very sorry;--very sorry indeed." - -"It seems to me, Finn, that you have had some reason for avoiding me -of late. I do not know that I have done anything to offend you." - -"Nothing on earth," said Phineas. - -"I am wrong, then, in supposing that anything beyond mere chance has -prevented you from coming to my house?" Phineas felt that he was in -a terrible difficulty, and he felt also that he was being rather -ill-used in being thus cross-examined as to his reasons for not going -to a gentleman's dinner. He thought that a man ought to be allowed -to choose where he would go and where he would not go, and that -questions such as these were very uncommon. Mr. Kennedy was sitting -opposite to him, looking more grave and more sour than usual;--and -now his own countenance also became a little solemn. It was -impossible that he should use Lady Laura's name, and yet he must, in -some way, let his persecuting friend know that no further invitation -would be of any use;--that there was something beyond mere chance -in his not going to Grosvenor Place. But how was he to do this? The -difficulty was so great that he could not see his way out of it. So -he sat silent with a solemn face. Mr. Kennedy then asked him another -question, which made the difficulty ten times greater. "Has my wife -asked you not to come to our house?" - -It was necessary now that he should make a rush and get out of his -trouble in some way. "To tell you the truth, Kennedy, I don't think -she wants to see me there." - -"That does not answer my question. Has she asked you not to come?" - -"She said that which left on my mind an impression that she would -sooner that I did not come." - -"What did she say?" - -"How can I answer such a question as that, Kennedy? Is it fair to ask -it?" - -"Quite fair,--I think." - -"I think it quite unfair, and I must decline to answer it. I cannot -imagine what you expect to gain by cross-questioning me in this way. -Of course no man likes to go to a house if he does not believe that -everybody there will make him welcome." - -"You and Lady Laura used to be great friends." - -"I hope we are not enemies now. But things will occur that cause -friendships to grow cool." - -"Have you quarrelled with her father?" - -"With Lord Brentford?--no." - -"Or with her brother,--since the duel I mean?" - -"Upon my word and honour I cannot stand this, and I will not. I have -not as yet quarrelled with anybody; but I must quarrel with you, if -you go on in this way. It is quite unusual that a man should be put -through his facings after such a fashion, and I must beg that there -may be an end of it." - -"Then I must ask Lady Laura." - -"You can say what you like to your own wife of course. I cannot -hinder you." - -Upon that Mr. Kennedy formally shook hands with him, in token that -there was no positive breach between them,--as two nations may still -maintain their alliance, though they have made up their minds to hate -each other, and thwart each other at every turn,--and took his leave. -Phineas, as he sat at his window, looking out into the park, and -thinking of what had passed, could not but reflect that, disagreeable -as Mr. Kennedy had been to him, he would probably make himself much -more disagreeable to his wife. And, for himself, he thought that he -had got out of the scrape very well by the exhibition of a little -mock anger. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX - -The Earl's Wrath - - -The reader may remember that a rumour had been conveyed to -Phineas,--a rumour indeed which reached him from a source which he -regarded as very untrustworthy,--that Violet Effingham had quarrelled -with her lover. He would probably have paid no attention to the -rumour, beyond that which necessarily attached itself to any tidings -as to a matter so full of interest to him, had it not been repeated -to him in another quarter. "A bird has told me that your Violet -Effingham has broken with her lover," Madame Goesler said to him one -day. "What bird?" he asked. "Ah, that I cannot tell you. But this I -will confess to you, that these birds which tell us news are seldom -very credible,--and are often not very creditable, You must take -a bird's word for what it may be worth. It is said that they have -quarrelled. I daresay, if the truth were known, they are billing and -cooing in each other's arms at this moment." - -Phineas did not like to be told of their billing and cooing,--did -not like to be told even of their quarrelling. Though they were to -quarrel, it would do him no good. He would rather that nobody should -mention their names to him;--so that his back, which had been so -utterly broken, might in process of time get itself cured. From what -he knew of Violet he thought it very improbable that, even were -she to quarrel with one lover, she would at once throw herself into -the arms of another. And he did feel, too, that there would be -some meanness in taking her, were she willing to be so taken. But, -nevertheless, these rumours, coming to him in this way from different -sources, almost made it incumbent on him to find out the truth. He -began to think that his broken back was not cured;--that perhaps, -after all, it was not in the way of being cured, And was it not -possible that there might be explanations? Then he went to work -and built castles in the air, so constructed as to admit of the -possibility of Violet Effingham becoming his wife. - -This had been in April, and at that time all that he knew of Violet -was, that she was not yet in London. And he thought that he knew the -same as to Lord Chiltern. The Earl had told him that Chiltern was not -in town, nor expected in town as yet; and in saying so had seemed to -express displeasure against his son. Phineas had met Lady Baldock at -some house which he frequented, and had been quite surprised to find -himself graciously received by the old woman. She had said not a word -of Violet, but had spoken of Lord Chiltern,--mentioning his name in -bitter wrath. "But he is a friend of mine," said Phineas, smiling. -"A friend indeed! Mr. Finn. I know what sort of a friend. I don't -believe that you are his friend. I am afraid he is not worthy of -having any friend." Phineas did not quite understand from this -that Lady Baldock was signifying to him that, badly as she had -thought of him as a suitor for her niece, she would have preferred -him,--especially now when people were beginning to speak well of -him,--to that terrible young man, who, from his youth upwards, had -been to her a cause of fear and trembling. Of course it was desirable -that Violet should marry an elder son, and a peer's heir. All that -kind of thing, in Lady Baldock's eyes, was most desirable. But, -nevertheless, anything was better than Lord Chiltern. If Violet would -not take Mr. Appledom or Lord Fawn, in heaven's name let her take -this young man, who was kind, worthy, and steady, who was civilised -in his manners, and would no doubt be amenable in regard to -settlements. Lady Baldock had so far fallen in the world that she -would have consented to make a bargain with her niece,--almost any -bargain, so long as Lord Chiltern was excluded. Phineas did not quite -understand all this; but when Lady Baldock asked him to come to -Berkeley Square, he perceived that help was being proffered to him -where he certainly had not looked for help. - -He was frequently with Lord Brentford, who talked to him constantly -on matters connected with his parliamentary life. After having been -the intimate friend of the daughter and of the son, it now seemed -to be his lot to be the intimate friend of the father. The Earl -had constantly discussed with him his arrangements with his son, -and had lately expressed himself as only half satisfied with such -reconciliation as had taken place. And Phineas could perceive that -from day to day the Earl was less and less satisfied. He would -complain bitterly of his son,--complain of his silence, complain of -his not coming to London, complain of his conduct to Violet, complain -of his idle indifference to anything like proper occupation; but he -had never as yet said a word to show that there had been any quarrel -between Violet and her lover, and Phineas had felt that he could not -ask the question. "Mr. Finn," said the Earl to him one morning, as -soon as he entered the room, "I have just heard a story which has -almost seemed to me to be incredible." The nobleman's manner was very -stern, and the fact that he called his young friend "Mr. Finn", -showed at once that something was wrong. - -"What is it you have heard, my lord?" said Phineas. - -"That you and Chiltern went over,--last year to,--Belgium, and -fought,--a duel there!" - -Now it must have been the case that, in the set among which they -all lived,--Lord Brentford and his son and daughter and Phineas -Finn,--the old lord was the only man who had not heard of the duel -before this. It had even penetrated to the dull ears of Mr. Kennedy, -reminding him, as it did so, that his wife had,--told him a lie! But -it was the fact that no rumour of the duel had reached the Earl till -this morning. - -"It is true," said Phineas. - -"I have never been so much shocked in my life;--never. I had no idea -that you had any thought of aspiring to the hand of Miss Effingham." -The lord's voice as he said this was very stern. - -"As I aspired in vain, and as Chiltern has been successful, that need -not now be made a reproach against me." - -"I do not know what to think of it, Mr. Finn. I am so much surprised -that I hardly know what to say. I must declare my opinion at once, -that you behaved,--very badly." - -"I do not know how much you know, my lord, and how much you do not -know; and the circumstances of the little affair do not permit me to -be explicit about them; but, as you have expressed your opinion so -openly you must allow me to express mine, and to say that, as far as -I can judge of my own actions, I did not behave badly at all." - -"Do you intend to defend duelling, sir?" - -"No. If you mean to tell me that a duel is of itself sinful, I have -nothing to say. I suppose it is. My defence of myself merely goes to -the manner in which this duel was fought, and the fact that I fought -it with your son." - -"I cannot conceive how you can have come to my house as my guest, -and stood upon my interest for my borough, when you at the time were -doing your very best to interpose yourself between Chiltern and the -lady whom you so well knew I wished to become his wife." Phineas was -aware that the Earl must have been very much moved indeed when he -thus permitted himself to speak of "his" borough. He said nothing -now, however, though the Earl paused;--and then the angry lord -went on. "I must say that there was something,--something almost -approaching to duplicity in such conduct." - -"If I were to defend myself by evidence, Lord Brentford, I should -have to go back to exact dates,--and dates not of facts which I could -verify, but dates as to my feelings which could not be verified,--and -that would be useless. I can only say that I believe I know what -the honour and truth of a gentleman demand,--even to the verge of -self-sacrifice, and that I have done nothing that ought to place my -character as a gentleman in jeopardy. If you will ask your son, I -think he will tell you the same." - -"I have asked him. It was he who told me of the duel." - -"When did he tell you, my lord?" - -"Just now; this morning." Thus Phineas learned that Lord Chiltern was -at this moment in the house,--or at least in London. - -"And did he complain of my conduct?" - -"I complain of it, sir. I complain of it very bitterly. I placed the -greatest confidence in you, especially in regard to my son's affairs, -and you deceived me." The Earl was very angry, and was more angry -from the fact that this young man who had offended him, to whom he -had given such vital assistance when assistance was needed, had used -that assistance to its utmost before his sin was found out. Had -Phineas still been sitting for Loughton, so that the Earl could have -said to him, "You are now bound to retreat from this borough because -you have offended me, your patron," I think that he would have -forgiven the offender and allowed him to remain in his seat. There -would have been a scene, and the Earl would have been pacified. But -now the offender was beyond his reach altogether, having used the -borough as a most convenient stepping-stone over his difficulties, -and having so used it just at the time when he was committing this -sin. There was a good fortune about Phineas which added greatly to -the lord's wrath. And then, to tell the truth, he had not that rich -consolation for which Phineas gave him credit. Lord Chiltern had told -him that morning that the engagement between him and Violet was at an -end. "You have so preached to her, my lord, about my duties," the son -had said to his father, "that she finds herself obliged to give me -your sermons at second hand, till I can bear them no longer." But of -this Phineas knew nothing as yet. The Earl, however, was so imprudent -in his anger that before this interview was over he had told the -whole story. "Yes;--you deceived me," he continued; "and I can never -trust you again." - -"Was it for me, my lord, to tell you of that which would have -increased your anger against your own son? When he wanted me to fight -was I to come, like a sneak at school, and tell you the story? I know -what you would have thought of me had I done so. And when it was over -was I to come and tell you then? Think what you yourself would have -done when you were young, and you may be quite sure that I did the -same. What have I gained? He has got all that he wanted; and you -have also got all that you wanted;--and I have helped you both. Lord -Brentford, I can put my hand on my heart and say that I have been -honest to you." - -"I have got nothing that I wanted," said the Earl in his despair. - -"Lord Chiltern and Miss Effingham will be man and wife." - -"No;--they will not. He has quarrelled with her. He is so obstinate -that she will not bear with him." - -Then it was all true, even though the rumours had reached him through -Laurence Fitzgibbon and Madame Max Goesler. "At any rate, my lord, -that has not been my fault," he said, after a moment's hesitation. -The Earl was walking up and down the room, angry with himself at his -own mistake in having told the story, and not knowing what further to -say to his visitor. He had been in the habit of talking so freely to -Phineas about his son that he could hardly resist the temptation of -doing so still; and yet it was impossible that he could swallow his -anger and continue in the same strain. "My lord," said Phineas, after -a while, "I can assure you that I grieve that you should be grieved. -I have received so much undeserved favour from your family, that I -owe you a debt which I can never pay. I am sorry that you should be -angry with me now; but I hope that a time may come when you will -think less severely of my conduct." - -He was about to leave the room when the Earl stopped him. "Will you -give me your word," said the Earl, "that you will think no more of -Miss Effingham?" Phineas stood silent, considering how he might -answer this proposal, resolving that nothing should bring him to such -a pledge as that suggested while there was yet a ledge for hope to -stand on. "Say that, Mr. Finn, and I will forgive everything." - -"I cannot acknowledge that I have done anything to be forgiven." - -"Say that," repeated the Earl, "and everything shall be forgotten." - -"There need be no cause for alarm, my lord," said Phineas. "You may -be sure that Miss Effingham will not think of me." - -"Will you give me your word?" - -"No, my lord;--certainly not. You have no right to ask it, and the -pursuit is open to me as to any other man who may choose to follow -it. I have hardly a vestige of a hope of success. It is barely -possible that I should succeed. But if it be true that Miss Effingham -be disengaged, I shall endeavour to find an opportunity of urging my -suit. I would give up everything that I have, my seat in Parliament, -all the ambition of my life, for the barest chance of success. When -she had accepted your son, I desisted,--of course. I have now heard, -from more sources than one, that she or he or both of them have -changed their minds. If this be so, I am free to try again." The -Earl stood opposite to him, scowling at him, but said nothing. "Good -morning, my lord." - -"Good morning, sir." - -"I am afraid it must be good-bye, for some long days to come." - -"Good morning, sir," And the Earl as he spoke rang the bell. Then -Phineas took up his hat and departed. - -As he walked away his mind filled itself gradually with various -ideas, all springing from the words which Lord Brentford had spoken. -What account had Lord Chiltern given to his father of the duel? Our -hero was a man very sensitive as to the good opinion of others, and -in spite of his bold assertion of his own knowledge of what became -a gentleman, was beyond measure solicitous that others should -acknowledge his claim at any rate to that title. He thought that he -had been generous to Lord Chiltern; and as he went back in his memory -over almost every word that had been spoken in the interview that had -just passed, he fancied that he was able to collect evidence that his -antagonist at Blankenberg had not spoken ill of him. As to the charge -of deceit which the Earl had made against him, he told himself that -the Earl had made it in anger. He would not even think hardly of the -Earl who had been so good a friend to him, but he believed in his -heart that the Earl had made the accusation out of his wrath and not -out of his judgment. "He cannot think that I have been false to him," -Phineas said to himself. But it was very sad to him that he should -have to quarrel with all the family of the Standishes, as he could -not but feel that it was they who had put him on his feet. It seemed -as though he were never to see Lady Laura again except when they -chanced to meet in company,--on which occasions he simply bowed to -her. Now the Earl had almost turned him out of his house. And though -there had been to a certain extent a reconciliation between him and -Lord Chiltern, he in these days never saw the friend who had once put -him upon Bonebreaker; and now,--now that Violet Effingham was again -free,--how was it possible to avoid some renewal of enmity between -them? He would, however, endeavour to see Lord Chiltern at once. - -And then he thought of Violet,--of Violet again free, of Violet as -again a possible wife for himself, of Violet to whom he might address -himself at any rate without any scruple as to his own unworthiness. -Everybody concerned, and many who were not concerned at all, were -aware that he had been among her lovers, and he thought that he could -perceive that those who interested themselves on the subject, had -regarded him as the only horse in the race likely to run with success -against Lord Chiltern. She herself had received his offers without -scorn, and had always treated him as though he were a favoured -friend, though not favoured as a lover. And now even Lady Baldock was -smiling upon him, and asking him to her house as though the red-faced -porter in the hall in Berkeley Square had never been ordered to -refuse him a moment's admission inside the doors. He had been very -humble in speaking of his own hopes to the Earl, but surely there -might be a chance. What if after all the little strain which he had -had in his back was to be cured after such a fashion as this! When he -got to his lodgings, he found a card from Lady Baldock, informing him -that Lady Baldock would be at home on a certain night, and that there -would be music. He could not go to Lady Baldock's on the night named, -as it would be necessary that he should be in the House;--nor did he -much care to go there, as Violet Effingham was not in town. But he -would call and explain, and endeavour to curry favour in that way. - -He at once wrote a note to Lord Chiltern, which he addressed to -Portman Square. "As you are in town, can we not meet? Come and dine -with me at the ---- Club on Saturday." That was the note. After a -few days he received the following answer, dated from the Bull at -Willingford. Why on earth should Chiltern be staying at the Bull at -Willingford in May? - - - The old Shop at W----, Friday. - - DEAR PHINEAS, - - I can't dine with you, because I am down here, looking - after the cripples, and writing a sporting novel. They - tell me I ought to do something, so I am going to do that. - I hope you don't think I turned informer against you in - telling the Earl of our pleasant little meeting on the - sands. It had become necessary, and you are too much of a - man to care much for any truth being told. He was terribly - angry both with me and with you; but the fact is, he is so - blindly unreasonable that one cannot regard his anger. I - endeavoured to tell the story truly, and, so told, it - certainly should not have injured you in his estimation. - But it did. Very sorry, old fellow, and I hope you'll get - over it. It is a good deal more important to me than to - you. - - Yours, - - C. - - -There was not a word about Violet. But then it was hardly to be -expected that there should be words about Violet. It was not likely -that a man should write to his rival of his own failure. But yet -there was a flavour of Violet in the letter which would not have been -there, so Phineas thought, if the writer had been despondent. The -pleasant little meeting on the sands had been convened altogether in -respect of Violet. And the telling of the story to the Earl must have -arisen from discussions about Violet. Lord Chiltern must have told -his father that Phineas was his rival. Could the rejected suitor have -written on such a subject in such a strain to such a correspondent -if he had believed his own rejection to be certain? But then -Lord Chiltern was not like anybody else in the world, and it was -impossible to judge of him by one's experience of the motives of -others. - -Shortly afterwards Phineas did call in Berkeley Square, and was shown -up at once into Lady Baldock's drawing-room. The whole aspect of the -porter's countenance was changed towards him, and from this, too, he -gathered good auguries This had surprised him; but his surprise was -far greater, when, on entering the room, he found Violet Effingham -there alone. A little fresh colour came to her face as she greeted -him, though it cannot be said that she blushed. She behaved herself -admirably, not endeavouring to conceal some little emotion at thus -meeting him, but betraying none that was injurious to her composure. -"I am so glad to see you, Mr. Finn," she said. "My aunt has just left -me, and will be back directly." - -He was by no means her equal in his management of himself on the -occasion; but perhaps it may be acknowledged that his position -was the more difficult of the two. He had not seen her since her -engagement had been proclaimed to the world, and now he had heard -from a source which was not to be doubted, that it had been broken -off. Of course there was nothing to be said on that matter. He could -not have congratulated her in the one case, nor could he either -congratulate her or condole with her on the other. And yet he did not -know how to speak to her as though no such events had occurred. "I -did not know that you were in town," he said. - -"I only came yesterday. I have been, you know, at Rome with the -Effinghams; and since that I have been--; but, indeed, I have been -such a vagrant that I cannot tell you of all my comings and goings. -And you,--you are hard at work!" - -"Oh yes;--always." - -"That is right. I wish I could be something, if it were only a stick -in waiting, or a door-keeper. It is so good to be something." Was it -some such teaching as this that had jarred against Lord Chiltern's -susceptibilities, and had seemed to him to be a repetition of his -father's sermons? - -"A man should try to be something," said Phineas. - -"And a woman must be content to be nothing,--unless Mr. Mill can pull -us through! And now, tell me,--have you seen Lady Laura?" - -"Not lately." - -"Nor Mr. Kennedy?" - -"I sometimes see him in the House." The visit to the Colonial Office -of which the reader has been made aware had not at that time as yet -been made. - -"I am sorry for all that," she said. Upon which Phineas smiled and -shook his head. "I am very sorry that there should be a quarrel -between you two." - -"There is no quarrel." - -"I used to think that you and he might do so much for each -other,--that is, of course, if you could make a friend of him." - -"He is a man of whom it is very hard to make a friend," said Phineas, -feeling that he was dishonest to Mr. Kennedy in saying so, but -thinking that such dishonesty was justified by what he owed to Lady -Laura. - -"Yes;--he is hard, and what I call ungenial. We won't say anything -about him,--will we? Have you seen much of the Earl?" This she asked -as though such a question had no reference whatever to Lord Chiltern. - -"Oh dear,--alas, alas!" - -"You have not quarrelled with him too?" - -"He has quarrelled with me. He has heard, Miss Effingham, of what -happened last year, and he thinks that I was wrong." - -"Of course you were wrong, Mr. Finn." - -"Very likely. To him I chose to defend myself, but I certainly shall -not do so to you. At any rate, you did not think it necessary to -quarrel with me." - -"I ought to have done so. I wonder why my aunt does not come." Then -she rang the bell. - -"Now I have told you all about myself," said he; "you should tell me -something of yourself." - -"About me? I am like the knife-grinder, who had no story to -tell,--none at least to be told. We have all, no doubt, got our -little stories, interesting enough to ourselves." - -"But your story, Miss Effingham," he said, "is of such intense -interest to me." At that moment, luckily, Lady Baldock came into -the room, and Phineas was saved from the necessity of making a -declaration at a moment which would have been most inopportune. - -Lady Baldock was exceedingly gracious to him, bidding Violet use her -influence to persuade him to come to the gathering. "Persuade him to -desert his work to come and hear some fiddlers!" said Miss Effingham. -"Indeed I shall not, aunt. Who can tell but what the colonies might -suffer from it through centuries, and that such a lapse of duty might -drive a province or two into the arms of our mortal enemies?" - -"Herr Moll is coming," said Lady Baldock, "and so is Signor Scrubi, -and Pjinskt, who, they say, is the greatest man living on the -flageolet. Have you ever heard Pjinskt, Mr. Finn?" Phineas never had -heard Pjinskt. "And as for Herr Moll, there is nothing equal to him, -this year, at least." Lady Baldock had taken up music this season, -but all her enthusiasm was unable to shake the conscientious zeal of -the young Under-Secretary of State. At such a gathering he would have -been unable to say a word in private to Violet Effingham. - - - - -CHAPTER LX - -Madame Goesler's Politics - - -It may be remembered that when Lady Glencora Palliser was shown into -Madame Goesler's room, Madame Goesler had just explained somewhat -forcibly to the Duke of Omnium her reasons for refusing the loan of -his Grace's villa at Como. She had told the Duke in so many words -that she did not mean to give the world an opportunity of maligning -her, and it would then have been left to the Duke to decide whether -any other arrangements might have been made for taking Madame Goesler -to Como, had he not been interrupted. That he was very anxious to -take her was certain. The green brougham had already been often -enough at the door in Park Lane to make his Grace feel that Madame -Goesler's company was very desirable,--was, perhaps, of all things -left for his enjoyment, the one thing the most desirable. Lady -Glencora had spoken to her husband of children crying for the top -brick of the chimney. Now it had come to this, that in the eyes -of the Duke of Omnium Marie Max Goesler was the top brick of the -chimney. She had more wit for him than other women,--more of that -sort of wit which he was capable of enjoying. She had a beauty which -he had learned to think more alluring than other beauty. He was sick -of fair faces, and fat arms, and free necks. Madame Goesler's eyes -sparkled as other eyes did not sparkle, and there was something -of the vagueness of mystery in the very blackness and gloss and -abundance of her hair,--as though her beauty was the beauty of some -world which he had not yet known. And there was a quickness and yet -a grace of motion about her which was quite new to him. The ladies -upon whom the Duke had of late most often smiled had been somewhat -slow,--perhaps almost heavy,--though, no doubt, graceful withal. In -his early youth he remembered to have seen, somewhere in Greece, such -a houri as was this Madame Goesler. The houri in that case had run -off with the captain of a Russian vessel engaged in the tallow trade; -but not the less was there left on his Grace's mind some dreamy -memory of charms which had impressed him very strongly when he was -simply a young Mr. Palliser, and had had at his command not so -convenient a mode of sudden abduction as the Russian captain's tallow -ship. Pressed hard by such circumstances as these, there is no -knowing how the Duke might have got out of his difficulties had not -Lady Glencora appeared upon the scene. - -Since the future little Lord Silverbridge had been born, the Duke had -been very constant in his worship of Lady Glencora, and as, from year -to year, a little brother was added, thus making the family very -strong and stable, his acts of worship had increased; but with his -worship there had come of late something almost of dread,--something -almost of obedience, which had made those who were immediately -about the Duke declare that his Grace was a good deal changed. For, -hitherto, whatever may have been the Duke's weaknesses, he certainly -had known no master. His heir, Plantagenet Palliser, had been always -subject to him. His other relations had been kept at such a distance -as hardly to be more than recognised; and though his Grace no -doubt had had his intimacies, they who had been intimate with him -had either never tried to obtain ascendancy, or had failed. Lady -Glencora, whether with or without a struggle, had succeeded, and -people about the Duke said that the Duke was much changed. Mr. -Fothergill,--who was his Grace's man of business, and who was not -a favourite with Lady Glencora,--said that he was very much changed -indeed. Finding his Grace so much changed, Mr. Fothergill had made -a little attempt at dictation himself, but had receded with fingers -very much scorched in the attempt. It was indeed possible that the -Duke was becoming in the slightest degree weary of Lady Glencora's -thraldom, and that he thought that Madame Max Goesler might be more -tender with him. Madame Max Goesler, however, intended to be tender -only on one condition. - -When Lady Glencora entered the room, Madame Goesler received her -beautifully. "How lucky that you should have come just when his Grace -is here!" she said. - -"I saw my uncle's carriage, and of course I knew it," said Lady -Glencora. - -"Then the favour is to him," said Madame Goesler, smiling. - -"No, indeed; I was coming. If my word is to be doubted in that point, -I must insist on having the servant up; I must, certainly. I told -him to drive to this door, as far back as Grosvenor Street. Did I -not, Planty?" Planty was the little Lord Silverbridge as was to -be, if nothing unfortunate intervened, who was now sitting on his -granduncle's knee. - -"Dou said to the little house in Park Lane," said the boy. - -"Yes,--because I forgot the number." - -"And it is the smallest house in Park Lane, so the evidence is -complete," said Madame Goesler. Lady Glencora had not cared much for -evidence to convince Madame Goesler, but she had not wished her uncle -to think that he was watched and hunted down. It might be necessary -that he should know that he was watched, but things had not come to -that as yet. - -"How is Plantagenet?" asked the Duke. - -"Answer for papa," said Lady Glencora to her child. - -"Papa is very well, but he almost never comes home." - -"He is working for his country," said the Duke. "Your papa is a busy, -useful man, and can't afford time to play with a little boy as I -can." - -"But papa is not a duke." - -"He will be some day, and that probably before long, my boy. He will -be a duke quite as soon as he wants to be a duke. He likes the House -of Commons better than the strawberry leaves, I fancy. There is not a -man in England less in a hurry than he is." - -"No, indeed," said Lady Glencora. - -"How nice that is," said Madame Goesler. - -"And I ain't in a hurry either,--am I, mamma?" said the little future -Lord Silverbridge. - -"You are a wicked little monkey," said his grand-uncle, kissing him. -At this moment Lady Glencora was, no doubt, thinking how necessary -it was that she should be careful to see that things did turn out -in the manner proposed,--so that people who had waited should not -be disappointed; and the Duke was perhaps thinking that he was not -absolutely bound to his nephew by any law of God or man; and Madame -Max Goesler,--I wonder whether her thoughts were injurious to the -prospects of that handsome bold-faced little boy. - -Lady Glencora rose to take her leave first. It was not for her to -show any anxiety to force the Duke out of the lady's presence. If the -Duke were resolved to make a fool of himself, nothing that she could -do would prevent it. But she thought that this little inspection -might possibly be of service, and that her uncle's ardour would -be cooled by the interruption to which he had been subjected. So -she went, and immediately afterwards the Duke followed her. The -interruption had, at any rate, saved him on that occasion from making -the highest bid for the pleasure of Madame Goesler's company at Como. -The Duke went down with the little boy in his hand, so that there -was not an opportunity for a single word of interest between the -gentleman and the lady. - -Madame Goesler, when she was alone, seated herself on her sofa, -tucking her feet up under her as though she were seated somewhere in -the East, pushed her ringlets back roughly from her face, and then -placed her two hands to her sides so that her thumbs rested lightly -on her girdle. When alone with something weighty on her mind she -would sit in this form for the hour together, resolving, or trying -to resolve, what should be her conduct. She did few things without -much thinking, and though she walked very boldly, she walked warily. -She often told herself that such success as she had achieved could -not have been achieved without much caution. And yet she was ever -discontented with herself, telling herself that all that she had done -was nothing, or worse than nothing. What was it all, to have a duke -and to have lords dining with her, to dine with lords or with a duke -itself, if life were dull with her, and the hours hung heavy! Life -with her was dull, and the hours did hang heavy. And what if she -caught this old man, and became herself a duchess,--caught him by -means of his weakness, to the inexpressible dismay of all those -who were bound to him by ties of blood,--would that make her life -happier, or her hours less tedious? That prospect of a life on the -Italian lakes with an old man tied to her side was not so charming in -her eyes as it was in those of the Duke. Were she to succeed, and to -be blazoned forth to the world as Duchess of Omnium, what would she -have gained? - -She perfectly understood the motive of Lady Glencora's visit, and -thought that she would at any rate gain something in the very triumph -of baffling the manoeuvres of so clever a woman. Let Lady Glencora -throw her aegis before the Duke, and it would be something to carry -off his Grace from beneath the protection of so thick a shield. The -very flavour of the contest was pleasing to Madame Goesler. But, the -victory gained, what then would remain to her? Money she had already; -position, too, she had of her own. She was free as air, and should it -suit her at any time to go off to some lake of Como in society that -would personally be more agreeable to her than that of the Duke of -Omnium, there was nothing to hinder her for a moment. And then came a -smile over her face,--but the saddest smile,--as she thought of one -with whom it might be pleasant to look at the colour of Italian skies -and feel the softness of Italian breezes. In feigning to like to do -this with an old man, in acting the raptures of love on behalf of a -worn-out duke who at the best would scarce believe in her acting, -there would not be much delight for her. She had never yet known what -it was to have anything of the pleasure of love. She had grown, as -she often told herself, to be a hard, cautious, selfish, successful -woman, without any interference or assistance from such pleasure. -Might there not be yet time left for her to try it without -selfishness,--with an absolute devotion of self,--if only she -could find the right companion? There was one who might be such a -companion, but the Duke of Omnium certainly could not be such a one. - -But to be Duchess of Omnium! After all, success in this world is -everything;--is at any rate the only thing the pleasure of which will -endure. There was the name of many a woman written in a black list -within Madame Goesler's breast,--written there because of scorn, -because of rejected overtures, because of deep social injury; and -Madame Goesler told herself often that it would be a pleasure to her -to use the list, and to be revenged on those who had ill-used and -scornfully treated her. She did not readily forgive those who had -injured her. As Duchess of Omnium she thought that probably she might -use that list with efficacy. Lady Glencora had treated her well, and -she had no such feeling against Lady Glencora. As Duchess of Omnium -she would accept Lady Glencora as her dearest friend, if Lady -Glencora would admit it. But if it should be necessary that there -should be a little duel between them, as to which of them should take -the Duke in hand, the duel must of course be fought. In a matter so -important, one woman would of course expect no false sentiment from -another. She and Lady Glencora would understand each other;--and no -doubt, respect each other. - -I have said that she would sit there resolving, or trying to resolve. -There is nothing in the world so difficult as that task of making -up one's mind. Who is there that has not longed that the power and -privilege of selection among alternatives should be taken away from -him in some important crisis of his life, and that his conduct should -be arranged for him, either this way or that, by some divine power -if it were possible,--by some patriarchal power in the absence of -divinity,--or by chance even, if nothing better than chance could be -found to do it? But no one dares to cast the die, and to go honestly -by the hazard. There must be the actual necessity of obeying the die, -before even the die can be of any use. As it was, when Madame Goesler -had sat there for an hour, till her legs were tired beneath her, she -had not resolved. It must be as her impulse should direct her when -the important moment came. There was not a soul on earth to whom she -could go for counsel, and when she asked herself for counsel, the -counsel would not come. - -Two days afterwards the Duke called again. He would come generally on -a Thursday,--early, so that he might be there before other visitors; -and he had already quite learned that when he was there other -visitors would probably be refused admittance. How Lady Glencora had -made her way in, telling the servant that her uncle was there, he had -not understood. That visit had been made on the Thursday, but now he -came on the Saturday,--having, I regret to say, sent down some early -fruit from his own hot-houses,--or from Covent Garden,--with a little -note on the previous day. The grapes might have been pretty well, but -the note was injudicious. There were three lines about the grapes, as -to which there was some special history, the vine having been brought -from the garden of some villa in which some ill-used queen had lived -and died; and then there was a postscript in one line to say that the -Duke would call on the following morning. I do not think that he had -meant to add this when he began his note; but then children, who want -the top brick, want it so badly, and cry for it so perversely! - -Of course Madame Goesler was at home. But even then she had not made -up her mind. She had made up her mind only to this,--that he should -be made to speak plainly, and that she would take time for her reply. -Not even with such a gem as the Duke's coronet before her eyes, would -she jump at it. Where there was so much doubt, there need at least be -no impatience. - -"You ran away the other day, Duke, because you could not resist the -charm of that little boy," she said, laughing. - -"He is a dear little boy,--but it was not that," he answered. - -"Then what was it? Your niece carried you off in a whirl-wind. She -was come and gone, taking you with her, in half a minute." - -"She had disturbed me when I was thinking of something," said the -Duke. - -"Things shouldn't be thought of,--not so deeply as that." Madame -Goesler was playing with a bunch of his grapes now, eating one or -two from a small china plate which had stood upon the table, and -he thought that he had never seen a woman so graceful and yet -so natural. "Will you not eat your own grapes with me? They are -delicious;--flavoured with the poor queen's sorrows." He shook his -head, knowing that it did not suit his gastric juices to have to deal -with fruit eaten at odd times. "Never think, Duke. I am convinced -that it does no good. It simply means doubting, and doubt always -leads to error. The safest way in the world is to do nothing." - -"I believe so," said the Duke. - -"Much the safest. But if you have not sufficient command over -yourself to enable you to sit in repose, always quiet, never -committing yourself to the chance of any danger,--then take a leap in -the dark; or rather many leaps. A stumbling horse regains his footing -by persevering in his onward course. As for moving cautiously, that I -detest." - -"And yet one must think;--for instance, whether one will succeed or -not." - -"Take that for granted always. Remember, I do not recommend motion at -all. Repose is my idea of life;--repose and grapes." - -The Duke sat for a while silent, taking his repose as far as the -outer man was concerned, looking at his top brick of the chimney, as -from time to time she ate one of his grapes. Probably she did not eat -above half-a-dozen of them altogether, but he thought that the grapes -must have been made for the woman, she was so pretty in the eating of -them. But it was necessary that he should speak at last. "Have you -been thinking of coming to Como?" he said. - -"I told you that I never think." - -"But I want an answer to my proposition." - -"I thought I had answered your Grace on that question." Then she put -down the grapes, and moved herself on her chair, so that she sat with -her face turned away from him. - -"But a request to a lady may be made twice." - -"Oh, yes. And I am grateful, knowing how far it is from your -intention to do me any harm. And I am somewhat ashamed of my warmth -on the other day. But still there can be but one answer. There -are delights which a woman must deny herself, let them be ever so -delightful." - -"I had thought,--" the Duke began, and then he stopped himself. - -"Your Grace was saying that you thought,--" - -"Marie, a man at my age does not like to be denied." - -"What man likes to be denied anything by a woman at any age? A woman -who denies anything is called cruel at once,--even though it be -her very soul." She had turned round upon him now, and was leaning -forward towards him from her chair, so that he could touch her if he -put out his hand. - -He put out his hand and touched her. "Marie," he said, "will you deny -me if I ask?" - -"Nay, my lord; how shall I say? There is many a trifle I would deny -you. There is many a great gift I would give you willingly." - -"But the greatest gift of all?" - -"My lord, if you have anything to say, you must say it plainly. There -never was a woman worse than I am at the reading of riddles." - -"Could you endure to live in the quietude of an Italian lake with an -old man?" Now he touched her again, and had taken her hand. - -"No, my lord;--nor with a young one,--for all my days. But I do not -know that age would guide me." - -Then the Duke rose and made his proposition in form. "Marie, you know -that I love you. Why it is that I at my age should feel so sore a -love, I cannot say." - -"So sore a love!" - -"So sore, if it be not gratified. Marie, I ask you to be my wife." - -"Duke of Omnium, this from you!" - -"Yes, from me. My coronet is at your feet. If you will allow me to -raise it, I will place it on your brow." - -Then she went away from him, and seated herself at a distance. After -a moment or two he followed her, and stood with his arm upon her -shoulder. "You will give me an answer, Marie?" - -"You cannot have thought of this, my lord." - -"Nay; I have thought of it much." - -"And your friends?" - -"My dear, I may venture to please myself in this,--as in everything. -Will you not answer me?" - -"Certainly not on the spur of the moment, my lord. Think how high is -the position you offer me, and how immense is the change you propose -to me. Allow me two days, and I will answer you by letter. I am so -fluttered now that I must leave you." Then he came to her, took her -hand, kissed her brow, and opened the door for her. - - - - -CHAPTER LXI - -Another Duel - - -It happened that there were at this time certain matters of business -to be settled between the Duke of Omnium and his nephew Mr. Palliser, -respecting which the latter called upon his uncle on the morning -after the Duke had committed himself by his offer. Mr. Palliser had -come by appointment made with Mr. Fothergill, the Duke's man of -business, and had expected to meet Mr. Fothergill. Mr. Fothergill, -however, was not with the Duke, and the uncle told the nephew that -the business had been postponed. Then Mr. Palliser asked some -question as to the reason of such postponement, not meaning much by -his question,--and the Duke, after a moment's hesitation, answered -him, meaning very much by his answer. "The truth is, Plantagenet, -that it is possible that I may marry, and if so this arrangement -would not suit me." - -"Are you going to be married?" asked the astonished nephew. - -"It is not exactly that,--but it is possible that I may do so. Since -I proposed this matter to Fothergill, I have been thinking over it, -and I have changed my mind. It will make but little difference to -you; and after all you are a far richer man than I am." - -"I am not thinking of money, Duke," said Plantagenet Palliser. - -"Of what then were you thinking?" - -"Simply of what you told me. I do not in the least mean to -interfere." - -"I hope not, Plantagenet." - -"But I could not hear such a statement from you without some -surprise. Whatever you do I hope will tend to make you happy." - -So much passed between the uncle and the nephew, and what the uncle -told to the nephew, the nephew of course told to his wife. "He was -with her again, yesterday," said Lady Glencora, "for more than an -hour. And he had been half the morning dressing himself before he -went to her." - -"He is not engaged to her, or he would have told me," said -Plantagenet Palliser. - -"I think he would, but there is no knowing. At the present moment I -have only one doubt,--whether to act upon him or upon her." - -"I do not see that you can do good by going to either." - -"Well, we will see. If she be the woman I take her to be, I think I -could do something with her. I have never supposed her to be a bad -woman,--never. I will think of it." Then Lady Glencora left her -husband, and did not consult him afterwards as to the course she -would pursue. He had his budget to manage, and his speeches to make. -The little affair of the Duke and Madame Goesler, she thought it best -to take into her own hands without any assistance from him. "What a -fool I was," she said to herself, "to have her down there when the -Duke was at Matching!" - -Madame Goesler, when she was left alone, felt that now indeed she -must make up her mind. She had asked for two days. The intervening -day was a Sunday, and on the Monday she must send her answer. She -might doubt at any rate for this one night,--the Saturday night,--and -sit playing, as it were, with the coronet of a duchess in her lap. -She had been born the daughter of a small country attorney, and now a -duke had asked her to be his wife,--and a duke who was acknowledged -to stand above other dukes! Nothing at any rate could rob her of that -satisfaction. Whatever resolution she might form at last, she had by -her own resources reached a point of success in remembering which -there would always be a keen gratification. It would be much to be -Duchess of Omnium; but it would be something also to have refused to -be a Duchess of Omnium. During that evening, that night, and the next -morning, she remained playing with the coronet in her lap. She would -not go to church. What good could any sermon do her while that bauble -was dangling before her eyes? After church-time, about two o'clock, -Phineas Finn came to her. Just at this period Phineas would come -to her often;--sometimes full of a new decision to forget Violet -Effingham altogether, at others minded to continue his siege let the -hope of success be ever so small. He had now heard that Violet and -Lord Chiltern had in truth quarrelled, and was of course anxious to -be advised to continue the siege. When he first came in and spoke a -word or two, in which there was no reference to Violet Effingham, -there came upon Madame Goesler a strong wish to decide at once that -she would play no longer with the coronet, that the gem was not worth -the cost she would be called upon to pay for it. There was something -in the world better for her than the coronet,--if only it might be -had. But within ten minutes he had told her the whole tale about Lord -Chiltern, and how he had seen Violet at Lady Baldock's,--and how -there might yet be hope for him. What would she advise him to do? "Go -home, Mr. Finn," she said, "and write a sonnet to her eyebrow. See if -that will have any effect." - -"Ah, well! It is natural that you should laugh at me; but somehow, I -did not expect it from you." - -"Do not be angry with me. What I mean is that such little things seem -to influence this Violet of yours." - -"Do they? I have not found that they do so." - -"If she had loved Lord Chiltern she would not have quarrelled with -him for a few words. If she had loved you, she would not have -accepted Lord Chiltern. If she loves neither of you, she should say -so. I am losing my respect for her." - -"Do not say that, Madame Goesler. I respect her as strongly as I love -her." Then Madame Goesler almost made up her mind that she would have -the coronet. There was a substance about the coronet that would not -elude her grasp. - -Late that afternoon, while she was still hesitating, there came -another caller to the cottage in Park Lane. She was still hesitating, -feeling that she had as yet another night before her. Should she be -Duchess of Omnium or not? All that she wished to be, she could not -be;--but to be Duchess of Omnium was within her reach. Then she began -to ask herself various questions. Would the Queen refuse to accept -her in her new rank? Refuse! How could any Queen refuse to accept -her? She had not done aught amiss in life. There was no slur on her -name; no stain on her character. What though her father had been a -small attorney, and her first husband a Jew banker! She had broken -no law of God or man, had been accused of breaking no law, which -breaking or which accusation need stand in the way of her being as -good a duchess as any other woman! She was sitting thinking of this, -almost angry with herself at the awe with which the proposed rank -inspired her, when Lady Glencora was announced to her. - -"Madame Goesler," said Lady Glencora, "I am very glad to find you." - -"And I more than equally so, to be found," said Madame Goesler, -smiling with all her grace. - -"My uncle has been with you since I saw you last?" - -"Oh yes;--more than once if I remember right. He was here yesterday -at any rate." - -"He comes often to you then?" - -"Not so often as I would wish, Lady Glencora. The Duke is one of my -dearest friends." - -"It has been a quick friendship." - -"Yes;--a quick friendship," said Madame Goesler. Then there was a -pause for some moments which Madame Goesler was determined that she -would not break. It was clear to her now on what ground Lady Glencora -had come to her, and she was fully minded that if she could bear the -full light of the god himself in all his glory, she would not allow -herself to be scorched by any reflected heat coming from the god's -niece. She thought she could endure anything that Lady Glencora might -say; but she would wait and hear what might be said. - -"I think, Madame Goesler, that I had better hurry on to my subject -at once," said Lady Glencora, almost hesitating as she spoke, and -feeling that the colour was rushing up to her cheeks and covering her -brow. "Of course what I have to say will be disagreeable. Of course I -shall offend you. And yet I do not mean it." - -"I shall be offended at nothing, Lady Glencora, unless I think that -you mean to offend me." - -"I protest that I do not. You have seen my little boy." - -"Yes, indeed. The sweetest child! God never gave me anything half so -precious as that." - -"He is the Duke's heir." - -"So I understand." - -"For myself, by my honour as a woman, I care nothing. I am rich and -have all that the world can give me. For my husband, in this matter, -I care nothing. His career he will make for himself, and it will -depend on no title." - -"Why all this to me, Lady Glencora? What have I to do with your -husband's titles?" - -"Much;--if it be true that there is an idea of marriage between you -and the Duke of Omnium." - -"Psha!" said Madame Goesler, with all the scorn of which she was -mistress. - -"It is untrue, then?" asked Lady Glencora. - -"No;--it is not untrue. There is an idea of such a marriage." - -"And you are engaged to him?" - -"No;--I am not engaged to him." - -"Has he asked you?" - -"Lady Glencora, I really must say that such a cross-questioning -from one lady to another is very unusual. I have promised not to be -offended, unless I thought that you wished to offend me. But do not -drive me too far." - -"Madame Goesler, if you will tell me that I am mistaken, I will beg -your pardon, and offer to you the most sincere friendship which one -woman can give another." - -"Lady Glencora, I can tell you nothing of the kind." - -"Then it is to be so! And have you thought what you would gain?" - -"I have thought much of what I should gain:--and something also of -what I should lose." - -"You have money." - -"Yes, indeed; plenty,--for wants so moderate as mine." - -"And position." - -"Well, yes; a sort of position. Not such as yours, Lady Glencora. -That, if it be not born to a woman, can only come to her from a -husband. She cannot win it for herself." - -"You are free as air, going where you like, and doing what you like." - -"Too free, sometimes," said Madame Goesler. - -"And what will you gain by changing all this simply for a title?" - -"But for such a title, Lady Glencora! It may be little to you to be -Duchess of Omnium, but think what it must be to me!" - -"And for this you will not hesitate to rob him of all his friends, to -embitter his future life, to degrade him among his peers,--" - -"Degrade him! Who dares say that I shall degrade him? He will exalt -me, but I shall no whit degrade him. You forget yourself, Lady -Glencora." - -"Ask any one. It is not that I despise you. If I did, would I offer -you my hand in friendship? But an old man, over seventy, carrying the -weight and burden of such rank as his, will degrade himself in the -eyes of his fellows, if he marries a young woman without rank, let -her be ever so clever, ever so beautiful. A Duke of Omnium may not do -as he pleases, as may another man." - -"It may be well, Lady Glencora, for other dukes, and for the -daughters and heirs and cousins of other dukes, that his Grace should -try that question. I will, if you wish it, argue this matter with you -on many points, but I will not allow you to say that I should degrade -any man whom I might marry. My name is as unstained as your own." - -"I meant nothing of that," said Lady Glencora. - -"For him;--I certainly would not willingly injure him. Who wishes -to injure a friend? And, in truth, I have so little to gain, that -the temptation to do him an injury, if I thought it one, is not -strong. For your little boy, Lady Glencora, I think your fears are -premature." As she said this, there came a smile over her face, which -threatened to break from control and almost become laughter. "But, if -you will allow me to say so, my mind will not be turned against this -marriage half so strongly by any arguments you can use as by those -which I can adduce myself. You have nearly driven me into it by -telling me I should degrade his house. It is almost incumbent on me -to prove that you are wrong. But you had better leave me to settle -the matter in my own bosom. You had indeed." - -After a while Lady Glencora did leave her,--to settle the matter -within her own bosom,--having no other alternative. - - - - -CHAPTER LXII - -The Letter That Was Sent to Brighton - - -Monday morning came and Madame Goesler had as yet written no answer -to the Duke of Omnium. Had not Lady Glencora gone to Park Lane on -the Sunday afternoon, I think the letter would have been written on -that day; but, whatever may have been the effect of Lady Glencora's -visit, it so far disturbed Madame Goesler as to keep her from her -writing-table. There was yet another night for thought, and then the -letter should be written on the Monday morning. - -When Lady Glencora left Madame Goesler she went at once to the Duke's -house. It was her custom to see her husband's uncle on a Sunday, and -she would most frequently find him just at this hour,--before he went -up-stairs to dress for dinner. She usually took her boy with her, but -on this occasion she went alone. She had tried what she could do with -Madame Goesler, and she found that she had failed. She must now make -her attempt upon the Duke. But the Duke, perhaps anticipating some -attack of the kind, had fled. "Where is his Grace, Barker?" said Lady -Glencora to the porter. "We do not know, your ladyship. His Grace -went away yesterday evening with nobody but Lapoule." Lapoule was -the Duke's French valet. Lady Glencora could only return home and -consider in her own mind what batteries might yet be brought to -bear upon the Duke, towards stopping the marriage, even after the -engagement should have been made,--if it were to be made. Lady -Glencora felt that such batteries might still be brought up as would -not improbably have an effect on a proud, weak old man. If all other -resources failed, royalty in some of its branches might be induced -to make a request, and every august relation in the peerage should -interfere. The Duke no doubt might persevere and marry whom he -pleased,--if he were strong enough. But it requires much personal -strength,--that standing alone against the well-armed batteries of -all one's friends. Lady Glencora had once tried such a battle on -her own behalf, and had failed. She had wished to be imprudent when -she was young; but her friends had been too strong for her. She had -been reduced, and kept in order, and made to run in a groove,--and -was now, when she sat looking at her little boy with his bold face, -almost inclined to think that the world was right, and that grooves -were best. But if she had been controlled when she was young, so -ought the Duke to be controlled now that he was old. It is all very -well for a man or woman to boast that he,--or she,--may do what he -likes with his own,--or with her own. But there are circumstances in -which such self-action is ruinous to so many that coercion from the -outside becomes absolutely needed. Nobody had felt the injustice of -such coercion when applied to herself more sharply than had Lady -Glencora. But she had lived to acknowledge that such coercion might -be proper, and was now prepared to use it in any shape in which it -might be made available. It was all very well for Madame Goesler -to laugh and exclaim, "Psha!" when Lady Glencora declared her real -trouble. But should it ever come to pass that a black-browed baby -with a yellow skin should be shown to the world as Lord Silverbridge, -Lady Glencora knew that her peace of mind would be gone for ever. She -had begun the world desiring one thing, and had missed it. She had -suffered much, and had then reconciled herself to other hopes. If -those other hopes were also to be cut away from her, the world would -not be worth a pinch of snuff to her. The Duke had fled, and she -could do nothing to-day; but to-morrow she would begin with her -batteries. And she herself had done the mischief! She had invited -this woman down to Matching! Heaven and earth!--that such a man as -the Duke should be such a fool!--The widow of a Jew banker! He, the -Duke of Omnium,--and thus to cut away from himself, for the rest of -his life, all honour, all peace of mind, all the grace of a noble -end to a career which, if not very noble in itself, had received -the praise of nobility! And to do this for a thin, black-browed, -yellow-visaged woman with ringlets and devil's eyes, and a beard on -her upper lip,--a Jewess,--a creature of whose habits of life and -manners of thought they all were absolutely ignorant; who drank, -possibly; who might have been a forger, for what any one knew; -an adventuress who had found her way into society by her art and -perseverance,--and who did not even pretend to have a relation in -the world! That such a one should have influence enough to intrude -herself into the house of Omnium, and blot the scutcheon, and,-- -what was worst of all,--perhaps be the mother of future dukes! Lady -Glencora, in her anger, was very unjust to Madame Goesler, thinking -all evil of her, accusing her in her mind of every crime, denying -her all charm, all beauty. Had the Duke forgotten himself and his -position for the sake of some fair girl with a pink complexion and -grey eyes, and smooth hair, and a father, Lady Glencora thought that -she would have forgiven it better. It might be that Madame Goesler -would win her way to the coronet; but when she came to put it on, she -should find that there were sharp thorns inside the lining of it. Not -a woman worth the knowing in all London should speak to her;--nor a -man either of those men with whom a Duchess of Omnium would wish to -hold converse. She should find her husband rated as a doting fool, -and herself rated as a scheming female adventuress. And it should go -hard with Lady Glencora, if the Duke were not separated from his new -Duchess before the end of the first year! In her anger Lady Glencora -was very unjust. - -The Duke, when he left his house without telling his household -whither he was going, did send his address to,--the top brick of the -chimney. His note, which was delivered at Madame Goesler's house late -on the Sunday evening, was as follows:--"I am to have your answer on -Monday. I shall be at Brighton. Send it by a private messenger to the -Bedford Hotel there. I need not tell you with what expectation, with -what hope, with what fear I shall await it.--O." Poor old man! He had -run through all the pleasures of life too quickly, and had not much -left with which to amuse himself. At length he had set his eyes on a -top brick, and being tired of everything else, wanted it very sorely. -Poor old man! How should it do him any good, even if he got it? -Madame Goesler, when she received the note, sat with it in her -hand, thinking of his great want. "And he would be tired of his new -plaything after a month," she said to herself. But she had given -herself to the next morning, and she would not make up her mind that -night. She would sleep once more with the coronet of a duchess within -her reach. She did do so; and woke in the morning with her mind -absolutely in doubt. When she walked down to breakfast, all doubt was -at an end. The time had come when it was necessary that she should -resolve, and while her maid was brushing her hair for her she did -make her resolution. - -"What a thing it is to be a great lady," said the maid, who may -probably have reflected that the Duke of Omnium did not come here so -often for nothing. - -"What do you mean by that, Lotta?" - -"The women I know, madame, talk so much of their countesses, and -ladyships, and duchesses. I would never rest till I had a title in -this country, if I were a lady,--and rich and beautiful." - -"And can the countesses, and the ladyships, and the duchesses do as -they please?" - -"Ah, madame;--I know not that." - -"But I know. That will do, Lotta. Now leave me." Then Madame Goesler -had made up her mind; but I do not know whether that doubt as to -having her own way had much to do with it. As the wife of an old man -she would probably have had much of her own way. Immediately after -breakfast she wrote her answer to the Duke, which was as follows:-- - - - Park Lane, Monday. - - MY DEAR DUKE OF OMNIUM, - - I find so great a difficulty in expressing myself to your - Grace in a written letter, that since you left me I have - never ceased to wish that I had been less nervous, less - doubting, and less foolish when you were present with me - here in my room. I might then have said in one word what - will take so many awkward words to explain. - - Great as is the honour you propose to confer on me, rich - as is the gift you offer me, I cannot accept it. I cannot - be your Grace's wife. I may almost say that I knew it - was so when you parted from me; but the surprise of the - situation took away from me a part of my judgment, and - made me unable to answer you as I should have done. My - lord, the truth is, that I am not fit to be the wife of - the Duke of Omnium. I should injure you; and though I - should raise myself in name, I should injure myself in - character. But you must not think, because I say this, - that there is any reason why I should not be an honest - man's wife. There is none. I have nothing on my conscience - which I could not tell you,--or to another man; nothing - that I need fear to tell to all the world. Indeed, my - lord, there is nothing to tell but this,--that I am not - fitted by birth and position to be the wife of the Duke of - Omnium. You would have to blush for me, and that no man - shall ever have to do on my account. - - I will own that I have been ambitious, too ambitious, and - have been pleased to think that one so exalted as you are, - one whose high position is so rife in the eyes of all men, - should have taken pleasure in my company. I will confess - to a foolish woman's silly vanity in having wished to be - known to be the friend of the Duke of Omnium. I am like - the other moths that flutter near the light and have their - wings burned. But I am wiser than they in this, that - having been scorched, I know that I must keep my distance. - You will easily believe that a woman, such as I am, does - not refuse to ride in a carriage with your Grace's arms on - the panels without a regret. I am no philosopher. I do not - pretend to despise the rich things of the world, or the - high things. According to my way of thinking a woman ought - to wish to be Duchess of Omnium;--but she ought to wish - also to be able to carry her coronet with a proper grace. - As Madame Goesler I can live, even among my superiors, at - my ease. As your Grace's wife, I should be easy no longer; - --nor would your Grace. - - You will think perhaps that what I write is heartless, - that I speak altogether of your rank, and not at all of - the affection you have shown me, or of that which I might - possibly bear towards you. I think that when the first - flush of passion is over in early youth men and women - should strive to regulate their love, as they do their - other desires, by their reason. I could love your Grace, - fondly, as your wife, if I thought it well for your Grace - or for myself that we should be man and wife. As I think - it would be ill for both of us, I will restrain that - feeling, and remember your Grace ever with the purest - feeling of true friendship. - - Before I close this letter, I must utter a word of - gratitude. In the kind of life which I have led as a - widow, a life which has been very isolated as regards - true fellowship, it has been my greatest effort to obtain - the good opinion of those among whom I have attempted to - make my way. I may, perhaps, own to you now that I have - had many difficulties. A woman who is alone in the world - is ever regarded with suspicion. In this country a woman - with a foreign name, with means derived from foreign - sources, with a foreign history, is specially suspected. - I have striven to live that down, and I have succeeded. - But in my wildest dreams I never dreamed of such success - as this,--that the Duke of Omnium should think me the - worthiest of the worthy. You may be sure that I am not - ungrateful,--that I never will be ungrateful. And I trust - it will not derogate from your opinion of my worth, that - I have known what was due to your Grace's highness. - - I have the honour to be, - My Lord Duke, - Your most obliged and faithful servant, - - MARIE MAX GOESLER. - - -"How many unmarried women in England are there would do the same?" -she said to herself, as she folded the paper, and put it into an -envelope, and sealed the cover. The moment that the letter was -completed she sent it off, as she was directed to send it, so -that there might be no possibility of repentance and subsequent -hesitation. She had at last made up her mind, and she would stand -by the making. She knew that there would come moments in which she -would deeply regret the opportunity that she had lost,--the chance -of greatness that she had flung away from her. But so would she -have often regretted it, also, had she accepted the greatness. Her -position was one in which there must be regret, let her decision have -been what it might. But she had decided, and the thing was done. She -would still be free,--Marie Max Goesler,--unless in abandoning her -freedom she would obtain something that she might in truth prefer to -it. When the letter was gone she sat disconsolate, at the window of -an up-stairs room in which she had written, thinking much of the -coronet, much of the name, much of the rank, much of that position -in society which she had flattered herself she might have won for -herself as Duchess of Omnium by her beauty, her grace, and her wit. -It had not been simply her ambition to be a duchess, without further -aim or object. She had fancied that she might have been such a -duchess as there is never another, so that her fame might have been -great throughout Europe, as a woman charming at all points. And she -would have had friends, then,--real friends, and would not have lived -alone as it was now her fate to do. And she would have loved her -ducal husband, old though he was, and stiff with pomp and ceremony. -She would have loved him, and done her best to add something of -brightness to his life. It was indeed true that there was one whom -she loved better; but of what avail was it to love a man who, when he -came to her, would speak to her of nothing but of the charms which he -found in another woman! - -She had been sitting thus at her window, with a book in her hand, at -which she never looked, gazing over the park which was now beautiful -with its May verdure, when on a sudden a thought struck her. Lady -Glencora Palliser had come to her, trying to enlist her sympathy for -the little heir, behaving, indeed, not very well, as Madame Goesler -had thought, but still with an earnest purpose which was in itself -good. She would write to Lady Glencora and put her out of her misery. -Perhaps there was some feeling of triumph in her mind as she returned -to the desk from which her epistle had been sent to the Duke;--not of -that triumph which would have found its gratification in boasting of -the offer that had been made to her, but arising from a feeling that -she could now show the proud mother of the bold-faced boy that though -she would not pledge herself to any woman as to what she might do or -not do, she was nevertheless capable of resisting such a temptation -as would have been irresistible to many. Of the Duke's offer to her -she would have spoken to no human being, had not this woman shown -that the Duke's purpose was known at least to her, and now, in her -letter, she would write no plain word of that offer. She would not -state, in words intelligible to any one who might read, that the Duke -had offered her his hand and his coronet. But she would write so that -Lady Glencora should understand her. And she would be careful that -there should be no word in the letter to make Lady Glencora think -that she supposed herself to be unfit for the rank offered to her. -She had been very humble in what she had written to the Duke, but -she would not be at all humble in what she was about to write to the -mother of the bold-faced boy. And this was the letter when it was -written:-- - - - MY DEAR LADY GLENCORA, - - I venture to send you a line to put you out of your - misery;--for you were very miserable when you were so good - as to come here yesterday. Your dear little boy is safe - from me;--and, what is more to the purpose, so are you and - your husband,--and your uncle, whom, in truth, I love. You - asked me a downright question which I did not then choose - to answer by a downright answer. The downright answer was - not at that time due to you. It has since been given, and - as I like you too well to wish you to be in torment, I - send you a line to say that I shall never be in the way of - you or your boy. - - And now, dear Lady Glencora, one word more. Should it - ever again appear to you to be necessary to use your zeal - for the protection of your husband or your child, do not - endeavour to dissuade a woman by trying to make her think - that she, by her alliance, would bring degradation into - any house, or to any man. If there could have been an - argument powerful with me, to make me do that which you - wished to prevent, it was the argument which you used. But - my own comfort, and the happiness of another person whom - I value almost as much as myself, were too important to - be sacrificed even to a woman's revenge. I take mine by - writing to you and telling you that I am better and more - rational and wiser than you took me to be. - - If, after this, you choose to be on good terms with me, I - shall be happy to be your friend. I shall want no further - revenge. You owe me some little apology; but whether you - make it or not, I will be contented, and will never do - more than ask whether your darling's prospects are still - safe. There are more women than one in the world, you - know, and you must not consider yourself to be out of the - wood because you have escaped from a single danger. If - there arise another, come to me, and we will consult - together. - - Dear Lady Glencora, yours always sincerely, - - MARIE M. G. - - -There was a thing or two besides which she longed to say, laughing -as she thought of them. But she refrained, and her letter, when -finished, was as it is given above. - -On the day following, Lady Glencora was again in Park Lane. When she -first read Madame Goesler's letter, she felt herself to be annoyed -and angry, but her anger was with herself rather than with her -correspondent. Ever since her last interview with the woman whom she -had feared, she had been conscious of having been indiscreet. All her -feelings had been too violent, and it might well have been that she -should have driven this woman to do the very thing that she was so -anxious to avoid. "You owe me some little apology," Madame Goesler -had said. It was true,--and she would apologise. Undue pride was not -a part of Lady Glencora's character. Indeed, there was not enough -of pride in her composition. She had been quite ready to hate this -woman, and to fight her on every point as long as the danger existed; -but she was equally willing to take the woman to her heart now that -the danger was over. Apologise! Of course she would apologise. And -she would make a friend of the woman if the woman wished it. But she -would not have the woman and the Duke at Matching together again, -lest, after all, there might be a mistake. She did not show Madame -Goesler's letter to her husband, or tell him anything of the relief -she had received. He had cared but little for the danger, thinking -more of his budget than of the danger; and would be sufficiently at -his ease if he heard no more rumours of his uncle's marriage. Lady -Glencora went to Park Lane early on the Tuesday morning, but she did -not take her boy with her. She understood that Madame Goesler might -perhaps indulge in a little gentle raillery at the child's expense, -and the mother felt that this might be borne the more easily if the -child were not present. - -"I have come to thank you for your letter, Madame Goesler," said Lady -Glencora, before she sat down. - -"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, or to dance at our -bridal?" said Madame Goesler, standing up from her chair and -laughing, as she sang the lines. - -"Certainly not to dance at your bridal," said Lady Glencora. - -"Alas! no. You have forbidden the banns too effectually for that, and -I sit here wearing the willow all alone. Why shouldn't I be allowed -to get married as well as another woman, I wonder? I think you have -been very hard upon me among you. But sit down, Lady Glencora. At any -rate you come in peace." - -"Certainly in peace, and with much admiration,--and a great deal of -love and affection, and all that kind of thing, if you will only -accept it." - -"I shall be too proud, Lady Glencora;--for the Duke's sake, if for no -other reason." - -"And I have to make my apology." - -"It was made as soon as your carriage stopped at my door with -friendly wheels. Of course I understand. I can know how terrible it -all was to you,--even though the dear little Plantagenet might not -have been in much danger. Fancy what it would be to disturb the -career of a Plantagenet! I am far too well read in history, I can -assure you." - -"I said a word for which I am sorry, and which I should not have -said." - -"Never mind the word. After all, it was a true word. I do not -hesitate to say so now myself, though I will allow no other woman -to say it,--and no man either. I should have degraded him,--and -disgraced him." Madame Goesler now had dropped the bantering tone -which she had assumed, and was speaking in sober earnest. "I, for -myself, have nothing about me of which I am ashamed. I have no -history to hide, no story to be brought to light to my discredit. -But I have not been so born, or so placed by circumstances, as make -me fit to be the wife of the Duke of Omnium. I should not have been -happy, you know." - -"You want nothing, dear Madame Goesler. You have all that society can -give you." - -"I do not know about that. I have much given to me by society, but -there are many things that I want;--a bright-faced little boy, for -instance, to go about with me in my carriage. Why did you not bring -him, Lady Glencora?" - -"I came out in my penitential sheet, and when one goes in that guise, -one goes alone. I had half a mind to walk." - -"You will bring him soon?" - -"Oh, yes. He was very anxious to know the other day who was the -beautiful lady with the black hair." - -"You did not tell him that the beautiful lady with the black hair was -a possible aunt, was a possible--? But we will not think any more of -things so horrible." - -"I told him nothing of my fears, you may be sure." - -"Some day, when I am a very old woman, and when his father is quite -an old duke, and when he has a dozen little boys and girls of his -own, you will tell him the story. Then he will reflect what a madman -his great-uncle must have been, to have thought of making a duchess -out of such a wizened old woman as that." - -They parted the best of friends, but Lady Glencora was still of -opinion that if the lady and the Duke were to be brought together at -Matching, or elsewhere, there might still be danger. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIII - -Showing How the Duke Stood His Ground - - -Mr. Low the barrister, who had given so many lectures to our friend -Phineas Finn, lectures that ought to have been useful, was now -himself in the House of Commons, having reached it in the legitimate -course of his profession. At a certain point of his career, supposing -his career to have been sufficiently prosperous, it becomes natural -to a barrister to stand for some constituency, and natural for him -also to form his politics at that period of his life with a view to -his further advancement, looking, as he does so, carefully at the age -and standing of the various candidates for high legal office. When a -man has worked as Mr. Low had worked, he begins to regard the bench -wistfully, and to calculate the profits of a two years' run in the -Attorney-Generalship. It is the way of the profession, and thus a -proper and sufficient number of real barristers finds its way into -the House. Mr. Low had been angry with Phineas because he, being a -barrister, had climbed into it after another fashion, having taken -up politics, not in the proper way as an assistance to his great -profession, but as a profession in itself. Mr. Low had been quite -sure that his pupil had been wrong in this, and that the error would -at last show itself, to his pupil's cost. And Mrs. Low had been more -sure than Mr. Low, having not unnaturally been jealous that a young -whipper-snapper of a pupil,--as she had once called Phineas,--should -become a Parliament man before her husband, who had worked his way -up gallantly, in the usual course. She would not give way a jot even -now,--not even when she heard that Phineas was going to marry this -and that heiress. For at this period of his life such rumours were -afloat about him, originating probably in his hopes as to Violet -Effingham and his intimacy with Madame Goesler. "Oh, heiresses!" -said Mrs. Low. "I don't believe in heiresses' money till I see it. -Three or four hundred a year is a great fortune for a woman, but it -don't go far in keeping a house in London. And when a woman has got -a little money she generally knows how to spend it. He has begun at -the wrong end, and they who do that never get themselves right at -the last." - -At this time Phineas had become somewhat of a fine gentleman, which -made Mrs. Low the more angry with him. He showed himself willing -enough to go to Mrs. Low's house, but when there he seemed to her -to give himself airs. I think that she was unjust to him, and that -it was natural that he should not bear himself beneath her remarks -exactly as he had done when he was nobody. He had certainly been very -successful. He was always listened to in the House, and rarely spoke -except on subjects which belonged to him, or had been allotted to him -as part of his business. He lived quite at his ease with people of -the highest rank,--and those of his own mode of life who disliked him -did so simply because they regarded with envy his too rapid rise. He -rode upon a pretty horse in the park, and was careful in his dress, -and had about him an air of comfortable wealth which Mrs. Low thought -he had not earned. When her husband told her of his sufficient -salary, she would shake her head and express her opinion that a good -time was coming. By which she perhaps meant to imply a belief that -a time was coming in which her husband would have a salary much -better than that now enjoyed by Phineas, and much more likely to be -permanent. The Radicals were not to have office for ever, and when -they were gone, what then? "I don't suppose he saves a shilling," -said Mrs. Low. "How can he, keeping a horse in the park, and hunting -down in the country, and living with lords? I shouldn't wonder if he -isn't found to be over head and ears in debt when things come to be -looked into." Mrs. Low was fond of an assured prosperity, of money in -the funds, and was proud to think that her husband lived in a house -of his own. "L19 10s. ground-rent to the Portman estate is what we -pay, Mr. Bunce," she once said to that gallant Radical, "and that -comes of beginning at the right end. Mr. Low had nothing when he -began the world, and I had just what made us decent the day we -married. But he began at the right end, and let things go as they may -he can't get a fall." Mr. Bunce and Mrs. Low, though they differed -much in politics, sympathised in reference to Phineas. - -"I never believes, ma'am, in nobody doing any good by getting a -place," said Mr. Bunce. "Of course I don't mean judges and them like, -which must be. But when a young man has ever so much a year for -sitting in a big room down at Whitehall, and reading a newspaper -with his feet up on a chair, I don't think it honest, whether he's -a Parliament man or whether he ain't." Whence Mr. Bunce had got his -notions as to the way in which officials at Whitehall pass their -time, I cannot say; but his notions are very common notions. The -British world at large is slow to believe that the great British -housekeeper keeps no more cats than what kill mice. - -Mr. Low, who was now frequently in the habit of seeing Phineas at -the House, had somewhat changed his opinions, and was not so eager -in condemning Phineas as was his wife. He had begun to think that -perhaps Phineas had shown some knowledge of his own aptitudes in the -career which he had sought, and was aware, at any rate, that his late -pupil was somebody in the House of Commons. A man will almost always -respect him whom those around him respect, and will generally look up -to one who is evidently above himself in his own daily avocation. Now -Phineas was certainly above Mr. Low in parliamentary reputation. He -sat on a front bench. He knew the leaders of parties. He was at home -amidst the forms of the House. He enjoyed something of the prestige -of Government power. And he walked about familiarly with the sons of -dukes and the brothers of earls in a manner which had its effect even -on Mr. Low. Seeing these things Mr. Low could not maintain his old -opinion as stoutly as did his wife. It was almost a privilege to Mr. -Low to be intimate with Phineas Finn. How then could he look down -upon him? - -He was surprised, therefore, one day when Phineas discussed the -matter with him fully. Phineas had asked him what would be his chance -of success if even now he were to give up politics and take to the -Bar as the means of earning his livelihood. "You would have uphill -work at first, as a matter of course," said Mr. Low. - -"But it might be done, I suppose. To have been in office would not be -fatal to me?" - -"No, not fatal, Nothing of the kind need be fatal. Men have -succeeded, and have sat on the bench afterwards, who did not begin -till they were past forty. You would have to live down a prejudice -created against yourself; that is all. The attorneys do not like -barristers who are anything else but barristers." - -"The attorneys are very arbitrary, I know," said Phineas. - -"Yes;--and there would be this against you--that it is so difficult -for a man to go back to the verdure and malleability of pupildom, -who has once escaped from the necessary humility of its conditions. -You will find it difficult to sit and wait for business in a -Vice-Chancellor's Court, after having had Vice-Chancellors, or men -as big as Vice-Chancellors, to wait upon you." - -"I do not think much of that." - -"But others would think of it, and you would find that there were -difficulties. But you are not thinking of it in earnest?" - -"Yes, in earnest." - -"Why so? I should have thought that every day had removed you -further and further from any such idea." - -"The ground I'm on at present is so slippery." - -"Well, yes. I can understand that. But yet it is less slippery than -it used to be." - -"Ah;--you do not exactly see. What if I were to lose my seat?" - -"You are safe at least for the next four years, I should say." - -"Ah;--no one can tell. And suppose I took it into my head to differ -from the Government?" - -"You must not do that. You have put yourself into a boat with these -men, and you must remain in the boat. I should have thought all that -was easy to you." - -"It is not so easy as it seems. The very necessity of sitting still -in the boat is in itself irksome,--very irksome. And then there comes -some crisis in which a man cannot sit still." - -"Is there any such crisis at hand now?" - -"I cannot say that;--but I am beginning to find that sitting still is -very disagreeable to me. When I hear those fellows below having their -own way, and saying just what they like, it makes me furious. There -is Robson. He tried office for a couple of years, and has broken -away; and now, by George, there is no man they think so much of as -they do of Robson. He is twice the man he was when he sat on the -Treasury Bench." - -"He is a man of fortune;--is he not?" - -"I suppose so. Of course he is, because he lives. He never earns -anything. His wife had money." - -"My dear Finn, that makes all the difference. When a man has means -of his own he can please himself. Do you marry a wife with money, -and then you may kick up your heels, and do as you like about the -Colonial Office. When a man hasn't money, of course he must fit -himself to the circumstances of a profession." - -"Though his profession may require him to be dishonest." - -"I did not say that." - -"But I say it, my dear Low. A man who is ready to vote black white -because somebody tells him, is dishonest. Never mind, old fellow. I -shall pull through, I daresay. Don't go and tell your wife all this, -or she'll be harder upon me than ever when she sees me." After that -Mr. Low began to think that his wife's judgment in this matter had -been better than his own. - -Robson could do as he liked because he had married a woman with -money. Phineas told himself that that game was also open to him. He, -too, might marry money. Violet Effingham had money;--quite enough to -make him independent were he married to her. And Madame Goesler had -money;--plenty of money. And an idea had begun to creep upon him that -Madame Goesler would take him were he to offer himself. But he would -sooner go back to the Bar as the lowest pupil, sooner clean boots for -barristers,--so he told himself,--than marry a woman simply because -she had money, than marry any other woman as long as there was a -chance that Violet might be won. But it was very desirable that he -should know whether Violet might be won or not. It was now July, and -everybody would be gone in another month. Before August would be over -he was to start for Ireland with Mr. Monk, and he knew that words -would be spoken in Ireland which might make it indispensable for -him to be, at any rate, able to throw up his office. In these days -he became more anxious than he used to be about Miss Effingham's -fortune. - -He had never spoken as yet to Lord Brentford since the day on which -the Earl had quarrelled with him, nor had he ever been at the house -in Portman Square. Lady Laura he met occasionally, and had always -spoken to her. She was gracious to him, but there had been no renewal -of their intimacy. Rumours had reached him that things were going -badly with her and her husband; but when men repeated such rumours -in his presence, he said little or nothing on the subject. It was -not for him, at any rate, to speak of Lady Laura's unhappiness. Lord -Chiltern he had seen once or twice during the last month, and they -had met cordially as friends. Of course he could ask no question -from Lord Chiltern as to Violet; but he did learn that his friend -had again patched up some reconciliation with his father. "He has -quarrelled with me, you know," said Phineas. - -"I am very sorry, but what could I do? As things went, I was obliged -to tell him." - -"Do not suppose for a moment that I am blaming you. It is, no doubt, -much better that he should know it all." - -"And it cannot make much difference to you, I should say." - -"One doesn't like to quarrel with those who have been kind to one," -said Phineas. - -"But it isn't your doing. He'll come right again after a time. When -I can get my own affairs settled, you may be sure I'll do my best to -bring him round. But what's the reason you never see Laura now?" - -"What's the reason that everything goes awry?" said Phineas, -bitterly. - -"When I mentioned your name to Kennedy the other day, he looked as -black as thunder. But it is not odd that any one should quarrel with -him. I can't stand him. Do you know, I sometimes think that Laura -will have to give it up. Then there will be another mess in the -family!" - -This was all very well as coming from Lord Chiltern; but there was no -word about Violet, and Phineas did not know how to get a word from -any one. Lady Laura could have told him everything, but he could not -go to Lady Laura. He did go to Lady Baldock's house as often as he -thought he could with propriety, and occasionally he saw Violet. But -he could do no more than see her, and the days and weeks were passing -by, and the time was coming in which he would have to go away, and be -with her no more. The end of the season, which was always to other -men,--to other working men such as our hero,--a period of pleasurable -anticipation, to him was a time of sadness, in which he felt that -he was not exactly like to, or even equal to, the men with whom he -lived in London. In the old days, in which he was allowed to go to -Loughlinter or to Saulsby, when all men and women were going to their -Loughlinters and their Saulsbys, it was very well with him; but there -was something melancholy to him in his yearly journey to Ireland. He -loved his father and mother and sisters as well as do other men; but -there was a falling off in the manner of his life which made him feel -that he had been in some sort out of his own element in London. He -would have liked to have shot grouse at Loughlinter, or pheasants at -Saulsby, or to have hunted down at Willingford,--or better still, to -have made love to Violet Effingham wherever Violet Effingham might -have placed herself. But all this was closed to him now; and there -would be nothing for him but to remain at Killaloe, or to return -to his work in Downing Street, from August to February. Mr. Monk, -indeed, was going with him for a few weeks; but even this association -did not make up for that sort of society which he would have -preferred. - -The session went on very quietly. The question of the Irish Reform -Bill was postponed till the next year, which was a great thing -gained. He carried his bill about the Canada Railway, with sundry -other small bills appertaining to it, through the House in a manner -which redounded infinitely to his credit. There was just enough -of opposition to give a zest to the work, and to make the affair -conspicuous among the affairs of the year. As his chief was in the -other house, the work fell altogether into his hands, so that he came -to be conspicuous among Under-Secretaries. It was only when he said -a word to any leaders of his party about other matters,--about Irish -Tenant-right, for instance, which was beginning to loom very large, -that he found himself to be snubbed. But there was no room for action -this year in reference to Irish Tenant-right, and therefore any deep -consideration of that discomfort might be legitimately postponed. If -he did by chance open his mouth on the subject to Mr. Monk, even Mr. -Monk discouraged him. - -In the early days of July, when the weather was very hot, and people -were beginning to complain of the Thames, and members were becoming -thirsty after grouse, and the remaining days of parliamentary work -were being counted up, there came to him news,--news that was soon -known throughout the fashionable world,--that the Duke of Omnium was -going to give a garden party at a certain villa residence on the -banks of the Thames above Richmond. It was to be such a garden party -as had never been seen before. And it would be the more remarkable -because the Duke had never been known to do such a thing. The villa -was called The Horns, and had, indeed, been given by the Duke to -Lady Glencora on her marriage; but the party was to be the Duke's -party, and The Horns, with all its gardens, conservatories, lawns, -shrubberies, paddocks, boat-houses, and boats, was to be made bright -and beautiful for the occasion. Scores of workmen were about the -place through the three first weeks of July. The world at large did -not at all know why the Duke was doing so unwonted a thing,--why -he should undertake so new a trouble. But Lady Glencora knew, and -Madame Goesler shrewdly guessed, the riddle. When Madame Goesler's -unexpected refusal had reached his Grace, he felt that he must either -accept the lady's refusal, or persevere. After a day's consideration, -he resolved that he would accept it. The top brick of the chimney was -very desirable; but perhaps it might be well that he should endeavour -to live without it. Then, accepting this refusal, he must either -stand his ground and bear the blow,--or he must run away to that -villa at Como, or elsewhere. The running away seemed to him at first -to be the better, or at least the more pleasant, course; but at last -he determined that he would stand his ground and bear the blow. -Therefore he gave his garden party at The Horns. - -Who was to be invited? Before the first week in July was over, many -a bosom in London was fluttering with anxiety on that subject. The -Duke, in giving his short word of instruction to Lady Glencora, -made her understand that he would wish her to be particular in her -invitations. Her Royal Highness the Princess, and his Royal Highness -the Prince, had both been so gracious as to say that they would -honour his fete. The Duke himself had made out a short list, with not -more than a dozen names. Lady Glencora was employed to select the -real crowd,--the five hundred out of the ten thousand who were to -be blessed. On the Duke's own private list was the name of Madame -Goesler. Lady Glencora understood it all. When Madame Goesler got her -card, she thought that she understood it too. And she thought also -that the Duke was behaving in a gallant way. - -There was, no doubt, much difficulty about the invitations, and a -considerable amount of ill-will was created. And they who considered -themselves entitled to be asked, and were not asked, were full of -wrath against their more fortunate friends, instead of being angry -with the Duke or with Lady Glencora, who had neglected them. It was -soon known that Lady Glencora was the real dispenser of the favours, -and I fancy that her ladyship was tired of her task before it was -completed. The party was to take place on Wednesday, the 27th of -July, and before the day had come, men and women had become so hardy -in the combat that personal applications were made with unflinching -importunity; and letters were written to Lady Glencora putting -forward this claim and that claim with a piteous clamour. "No, that -is too bad," Lady Glencora said to her particular friend, Mrs. Grey, -when a letter came from Mrs. Bonteen, stating all that her husband -had ever done towards supporting Mr. Palliser in Parliament,--and all -that he ever would do. "She shan't have it, even though she could put -Plantagenet into a minority to-morrow." - -Mrs. Bonteen did not get a card; and when she heard that Phineas Finn -had received one, her wrath against Phineas was very great. He was -"an Irish adventurer," and she regretted deeply that Mr. Bonteen had -ever interested himself in bringing such an upstart forward in the -world of politics. But as Mr. Bonteen never had done anything towards -bringing Phineas forward, there was not much cause for regret on this -head. Phineas, however, got his card, and, of course, accepted the -invitation. - -The grounds were opened at four. There was to be an early dinner out -in tents at five; and after dinner men and women were to walk about, -or dance, or make love--or hay, as suited them. The haycocks, -however, were ready prepared, while it was expected that they should -bring the love with them. Phineas, knowing that he should meet Violet -Effingham, took a great deal with him ready made. - -For an hour and a half Lady Glencora kept her position in a saloon -through which the guests passed to the grounds, and to every comer -she imparted the information that the Duke was on the lawn;--to every -comer but one. To Madame Goesler she said no such word. "So glad to -see you, my dear," she said, as she pressed her friend's hand: "if I -am not killed by this work, I'll make you out again by-and-by." Then -Madame Goesler passed on, and soon found herself amidst a throng -of acquaintance. After a few minutes she saw the Duke seated in an -arm-chair, close to the river-bank, and she bravely went up to him, -and thanked him for the invitation. "The thanks are due to you for -gracing our entertainment," said the Duke, rising to greet her. There -were a dozen people standing round, and so the thing was done without -difficulty. At that moment there came a notice that their royal -highnesses were on the ground, and the Duke, of course, went off to -meet them. There was not a word more spoken between the Duke and -Madame Goesler on that afternoon. - -Phineas did not come till late,--till seven, when the banquet was -over. I think he was right in this, as the banqueting in tents loses -in comfort almost more than it gains in romance. A small picnic may -be very well, and the distance previously travelled may give to a -dinner on the ground the seeming excuse of necessity. Frail human -nature must be supported,--and human nature, having gone so far -in pursuit of the beautiful, is entitled to what best support the -unaccustomed circumstances will allow. Therefore, out with the cold -pies, out with the salads, and the chickens, and the champagne. Since -no better may be, let us recruit human nature sitting upon this moss, -and forget our discomforts in the glory of the verdure around us. And -dear Mary, seeing that the cushion from the waggonet is small, and -not wishing to accept the too generous offer that she should take it -all for her own use, will admit a contact somewhat closer than the -ordinary chairs of a dining-room render necessary. That in its way is -very well;--but I hold that a banquet on narrow tables in a tent is -displeasing. - -Phineas strolled into the grounds when the tent was nearly empty, and -when Lady Glencora, almost sinking beneath her exertions, was taking -rest in an inner room. The Duke at this time was dining with their -royal highnesses, and three or four others, specially selected, -very comfortably within doors. Out of doors the world had begun to -dance,--and the world was beginning to say that it would be much -nicer to go and dance upon the boards inside as soon as possible. -For, though of all parties a garden party is the nicest, everybody -is always anxious to get out of the garden as quick as may be. A few -ardent lovers of suburban picturesque effect were sitting beneath the -haycocks, and four forlorn damsels were vainly endeavouring to excite -the sympathy of manly youth by playing croquet in a corner. I am not -sure, however, that the lovers beneath the haycocks and the players -at croquet were not actors hired by Lady Glencora for the occasion. - -Phineas had not been long on the lawn before he saw Lady Laura -Kennedy. She was standing with another lady, and Barrington Erle was -with them. "So you have been successful?" said Barrington, greeting -him. - -"Successful in what?" - -"In what? In getting a ticket. I have had to promise three -tide-waiterships, and to give deep hints about a bishopric expected -to be vacant, before I got in. But what matters? Success pays for -everything. My only trouble now is how I'm to get back to London." - -Lady Laura shook hands with Phineas, and then as he was passing on, -followed him for a step and whispered a word to him. "Mr. Finn," she -said, "if you are not going yet, come back to me presently. I have -something to say to you. I shall not be far from the river, and shall -stay here for about an hour." - -Phineas said that he would, and then went on, not knowing exactly -where he was going. He had one desire,--to find Violet Effingham, but -when he should find her he could not carry her off, and sit with her -beneath a haycock. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIV - -The Horns - - -While looking for Violet Effingham, Phineas encountered Madame -Goesler, among a crowd of people who were watching the adventurous -embarkation of certain daring spirits in a pleasure-boat. There were -watermen there in the Duke's livery, ready to take such spirits down -to Richmond or up to Teddington lock, and many daring spirits did -take such trips,--to the great peril of muslins, ribbons, and starch, -to the peril also of ornamental summer white garments, so that when -the thing was over, the boats were voted to have been a bore. - -"Are you going to venture?" said Phineas to the lady. - -"I should like it of all things if I were not afraid for my clothes. -Will you come?" - -"I was never good upon the water. I should be sea-sick to a -certainty. They are going down beneath the bridge too, and we should -be splashed by the steamers. I don't think my courage is high -enough." Thus Phineas excused himself, being still intent on -prosecuting his search for Violet. - -"Then neither will I," said Madame Goesler. "One dash from a peccant -oar would destroy the whole symmetry of my dress. Look. That green -young lady has already been sprinkled." - -"But the blue young gentleman has been sprinkled also," said Phineas, -"and they will be happy in a joint baptism." Then they strolled along -the river path together, and were soon alone. "You will be leaving -town soon, Madame Goesler?" - -"Almost immediately." - -"And where do you go?" - -"Oh,--to Vienna. I am there for a couple of months every year, -minding my business. I wonder whether you would know me, if you saw -me;--sometimes sitting on a stool in a counting-house, sometimes -going about among old houses, settling what must be done to save them -from tumbling down. I dress so differently at such times, and talk so -differently, and look so much older, that I almost fancy myself to be -another person." - -"Is it a great trouble to you?" - -"No,--I rather like it. It makes me feel that I do something in the -world." - -"Do you go alone?" - -"Quite alone. I take a German maid with me, and never speak a word to -any one else on the journey." - -"That must be very bad," said Phineas. - -"Yes; it is the worst of it. But then I am so much accustomed to be -alone. You see me in society, and in society only, and therefore -naturally look upon me as one of a gregarious herd; but I am in truth -an animal that feeds alone and lives alone. Take the hours of the -year all through, and I am a solitary during four-fifths of them. And -what do you intend to do?" - -"I go to Ireland." - -"Home to your own people. How nice! I have no people to go to. I -have one sister, who lives with her husband at Riga. She is my only -relation, and I never see her." - -"But you have thousands of friends in England." - -"Yes,--as you see them,"--and she turned and spread out her hands -towards the crowded lawn, which was behind them. "What are such -friends worth? What would they do for me?" - -"I do not know that the Duke would do much," said Phineas laughing. - -Madame Goesler laughed also. "The Duke is not so bad," she said. "The -Duke would do as much as any one else. I won't have the Duke abused." - -"He may be your particular friend, for what I know," said Phineas. - -"Ah;--no. I have no particular friend. And were I to wish to choose -one, I should think the Duke a little above me." - -"Oh, yes;--and too stiff, and too old, and too pompous, and too cold, -and too make-believe, and too gingerbread." - -"Mr. Finn!" - -"The Duke is all buckram, you know." - -"Then why do you come to his house?" - -"To see you, Madame Goesler." - -"Is that true, Mr. Finn?" - -"Yes;--it is true in its way. One goes about to meet those whom one -likes, not always for the pleasure of the host's society. I hope I am -not wrong because I go to houses at which I like neither the host nor -the hostess." Phineas as he said this was thinking of Lady Baldock, -to whom of late he had been exceedingly civil,--but he certainly did -not like Lady Baldock. - -"I think you have been too hard upon the Duke of Omnium. Do you know -him well?" - -"Personally? certainly not. Do you? Does anybody?" - -"I think he is a gracious gentleman," said Madame Goesler, "and -though I cannot boast of knowing him well, I do not like to hear him -called buckram. I do not think he is buckram. It is not very easy for -a man in his position to live so as to please all people. He has to -maintain the prestige of the highest aristocracy in Europe." - -"Look at his nephew, who will be the next Duke, and who works as hard -as any man in the country. Will he not maintain it better? What good -did the present man ever do?" - -"You believe only in motion, Mr. Finn;--and not at all in quiescence. -An express train at full speed is grander to you than a mountain with -heaps of snow. I own that to me there is something glorious in the -dignity of a man too high to do anything,--if only he knows how to -carry that dignity with a proper grace. I think that there should be -breasts made to carry stars." - -"Stars which they have never earned," said Phineas. - -"Ah;--well; we will not fight about it. Go and earn your star, and I -will say that it becomes you better than any glitter on the coat of -the Duke of Omnium." This she said with an earnestness which he could -not pretend not to notice or not to understand. "I too may be able to -see that the express train is really greater than the mountain." - -"Though, for your own life, you would prefer to sit and gaze upon the -snowy peaks?" - -"No;--that is not so. For myself, I would prefer to be of use -somewhere,--to some one, if it were possible. I strive sometimes." - -"And I am sure successfully." - -"Never mind. I hate to talk about myself. You and the Duke are -fair subjects for conversation; you as the express train, who will -probably do your sixty miles an hour in safety, but may possibly go -down a bank with a crash." - -"Certainly I may," said Phineas. - -"And the Duke, as the mountain, which is fixed in its stateliness, -short of the power of some earthquake, which shall be grander and -more terrible than any earthquake yet known. Here we are at the house -again. I will go in and sit down for a while." - -"If I leave you, Madame Goesler, I will say good-bye till next -winter." - -"I shall be in town again before Christmas, you know. You will come -and see me?" - -"Of course I will." - -"And then this love trouble of course will be over,--one way or the -other;--will it not?" - -"Ah!--who can say?" - -"Faint heart never won fair lady. But your heart is never faint. -Farewell." - -Then he left her. Up to this moment he had not seen Violet, and yet -he knew that she was to be there. She had herself told him that she -was to accompany Lady Laura, whom he had already met. Lady Baldock -had not been invited, and had expressed great animosity against the -Duke in consequence. She had gone so far as to say that the Duke was -a man at whose house a young lady such as her niece ought not to be -seen. But Violet had laughed at this, and declared her intention of -accepting the invitation. "Go," she had said; "of course I shall go. -I should have broken my heart if I could not have got there." Phineas -therefore was sure that she must be in the place. He had kept his -eyes ever on the alert, and yet he had not found her. And now he must -keep his appointment with Lady Laura Kennedy. So he went down to the -path by the river, and there he found her seated close by the water's -edge. Her cousin Barrington Erle was still with her, but as soon as -Phineas joined them, Erle went away. "I had told him," said Lady -Laura, "that I wished to speak to you, and he stayed with me till you -came. There are worse men than Barrington a great deal." - -"I am sure of that." - -"Are you and he still friends, Mr. Finn?" - -"I hope so. I do not see so much of him as I did when I had less to -do." - -"He says that you have got into altogether a different set." - -"I don't know that. I have gone as circumstances have directed me, -but I have certainly not intended to throw over so old and good a -friend as Barrington Erle." - -"Oh,--he does not blame you. He tells me that you have found your -way among what he calls the working men of the party, and he thinks -you will do very well,--if you can only be patient enough. We all -expected a different line from you, you know,--more of words and -less of deeds, if I may say so;--more of liberal oratory and less of -government action; but I do not doubt that you are right." - -"I think that I have been wrong," said Phineas. "I am becoming -heartily sick of officialities." - -"That comes from the fickleness about which papa is so fond of -quoting his Latin. The ox desires the saddle. The charger wants to -plough." - -"And which am I?" - -"Your career may combine the dignity of the one with the utility of -the other. At any rate you must not think of changing now. Have you -seen Mr. Kennedy lately?" She asked the question abruptly, showing -that she was anxious to get to the matter respecting which she had -summoned him to her side, and that all that she had said hitherto had -been uttered as it were in preparation of that subject. - -"Seen him? yes; I see him daily. But we hardly do more than speak," - -"Why not?" Phineas stood for a moment in silence, hesitating. "Why is -it that he and you do not speak?" - -"How can I answer that question, Lady Laura?" - -"Do you know any reason? Sit down, or, if you please, I will get up -and walk with you. He tells me that you have chosen to quarrel with -him, and that I have made you do so. He says that you have confessed -to him that I have asked you to quarrel with him." - -"He can hardly have said that." - -"But he has said it,--in so many words. Do you think that I would -tell you such a story falsely?" - -"Is he here now?" - -"No;--he is not here. He would not come. I came alone." - -"Is not Miss Effingham with you?" - -"No;--she is to come with my father later. She is here no doubt, now. -But answer my question, Mr. Finn;--unless you find that you cannot -answer it. What was it that you did say to my husband?" - -"Nothing to justify what he has told you." - -"Do you mean to say that he has spoken falsely?" - -"I mean to use no harsh word,--but I think that Mr. Kennedy when -troubled in his spirit looks at things gloomily, and puts meaning -upon words which they should not bear." - -"And what has troubled his spirit?" - -"You must know that better than I can do, Lady Laura. I will tell you -all that I can tell you. He invited me to his house and I would not -go, because you had forbidden me. Then he asked me some questions -about you. Did I refuse because of you,--or of anything that you had -said? If I remember right, I told him that I did fancy that you would -not be glad to see me,--and that therefore I would rather stay away. -What was I to say?" - -"You should have said nothing." - -"Nothing with him would have been worse than what I did say. Remember -that he asked me the question point-blank, and that no reply would -have been equal to an affirmation. I should have confessed that his -suggestion was true." - -"He could not then have twitted me with your words." - -"If I have erred, Lady Laura, and brought any sorrow on you, I am -indeed grieved." - -"It is all sorrow. There is nothing but sorrow. I have made up my -mind to leave him." - -"Oh, Lady Laura!" - -"It is very bad,--but not so bad, I think, as the life I am now -leading. He has accused me--, of what do you think? He says that you -are my lover!" - -"He did not say that,--in those words?" - -"He said it in words which made me feel that I must part from him." - -"And how did you answer him?" - -"I would not answer him at all. If he had come to me like a man,--not -accusing me, but asking me,--I would have told him everything. And -what was there to tell? I should have broken my faith to you, in -speaking of that scene at Loughlinter, but women always tell such -stories to their husbands when their husbands are good to them, and -true, and just. And it is well that they should be told. But to Mr. -Kennedy I can tell nothing. He does not believe my word." - -"Not believe you, Lady Laura?" - -"No! Because I did not blurt out to him all that story about your -foolish duel,--because I thought it best to keep my brother's secret, -as long as there was a secret to be kept, he told me that I -had,--lied to him!" - -"What!--with that word?" - -"Yes,--with that very word. He is not particular about his words, -when he thinks it necessary to express himself strongly. And he has -told me since that because of that he could never believe me again. -How is it possible that a woman should live with such a man?" But -why did she come to him with this story,--to him whom she had been -accused of entertaining as a lover;--to him who of all her friends -was the last whom she should have chosen as the recipient for such a -tale? Phineas as he thought how he might best answer her, with what -words he might try to comfort her, could not but ask himself this -question. "The moment that the word was out of his mouth," she went -on to say, "I resolved that I would tell you. The accusation is -against you as it is against me, and is equally false to both. I -have written to him, and there is my letter." - -"But you will see him again?" - -"No;--I will go to my father's house. I have already arranged it. Mr. -Kennedy has my letter by this time, and I go from hence home with my -father." - -"Do you wish that I should read the letter?" - -"Yes,--certainly. I wish that you should read it. Should I ever meet -him again, I shall tell him that you saw it." - -They were now standing close upon the river's bank, at a corner of -the grounds, and, though the voices of people sounded near to them, -they were alone. Phineas had no alternative but to read the letter, -which was as follows:-- - - - After what you have said to me it is impossible that I - should return to your house. I shall meet my father at the - Duke of Omnium's, and have already asked him to give me an - asylum. It is my wish to remain wherever he may be, either - in town or in the country. Should I change my purpose in - this, and change my residence, I will not fail to let you - know where I go and what I propose to do. You I think must - have forgotten that I was your wife; but I will never - forget it. - - You have accused me of having a lover. You cannot have - expected that I should continue to live with you after - such an accusation. For myself I cannot understand how - any man can have brought himself to bring such a charge - against his wife. Even had it been true the accusation - should not have been made by your mouth to my ears. - - That it is untrue I believe you must be as well aware as - I am myself. How intimate I was with. Mr. Finn, and what - were the limits of my intimacy with him you knew before - I married you. After our marriage I encouraged his - friendship till I found that there was something in - it that displeased you,--and, after learning that, I - discouraged it. You have said that he is my lover, but - you have probably not defined for yourself that word very - clearly. You have felt yourself slighted because his name - has been mentioned with praise;--and your jealousy has - been wounded because you have thought that I have regarded - him as in some way superior to yourself. You have never - really thought that he was my lover,--that he spoke words - to me which others might not hear, that he claimed from - me aught that a wife may not give, that he received aught - which a friend should not receive. The accusation has been - a coward's accusation. - - I shall be at my father's to-night, and to-morrow I will - get you to let my servant bring to me such things as are - my own,--my clothes, namely, and desk, and a few books. - She will know what I want. I trust you may be happier - without a wife, than ever you have been with me. I have - felt almost daily since we were married that you were a - man who would have been happier without a wife than with - one. - - Yours affectionately, - - LAURA KENNEDY. - - -"It is at any rate true," she said, when Phineas had read the letter. - -"True! Doubtless it is true," said Phineas, "except that I do not -suppose he was ever really angry with me, or jealous, or anything of -the sort,--because I got on well. It seems absurd even to think it." - -"There is nothing too absurd for some men. I remember your telling -me that he was weak, and poor, and unworthy. I remember your saying -so when I first thought that he might become my husband. I wish I -had believed you when you told me so. I should not have made such a -shipwreck of myself as I have done. That is all I had to say to you. -After what has passed between us I did not choose that you should -hear how I was separated from my husband from any lips but my own. -I will go now and find papa. Do not come with me. I prefer being -alone." Then he was left standing by himself, looking down upon the -river as it glided by. How would it have been with both of them if -Lady Laura had accepted him three years ago, when she consented to -join her lot with that of Mr. Kennedy, and had rejected him? As he -stood he heard the sound of music from the house, and remembered -that he had come there with the one sole object of seeing Violet -Effingham. He had known that he would meet Lady Laura, and it had -been in his mind to break through that law of silence which she had -imposed upon him, and once more to ask her to assist him,--to implore -her for the sake of their old friendship to tell him whether there -might yet be for him any chance of success. But in the interview -which had just taken place it had been impossible for him to speak -a word of himself or of Violet. To her, in her great desolation, -he could address himself on no other subject than that of her own -misery. But not the less when she was talking to him of her own -sorrow, of her regret that she had not listened to him when in years -past he had spoken slightingly of Mr. Kennedy, was he thinking of -Violet Effingham. Mr. Kennedy had certainly mistaken the signs of -things when he had accused his wife by saying that Phineas was her -lover. Phineas had soon got over that early feeling; and as far as he -himself was concerned had never regretted Lady Laura's marriage. - -He remained down by the water for a few minutes, giving Lady Laura -time to escape, and then he wandered across the grounds towards the -house. It was now about nine o'clock, and though there were still -many walking about the grounds, the crowd of people were in the -rooms. The musicians were ranged out on a verandah, so that their -music might have been available for dancing within or without; but -the dancers had found the boards pleasanter than the lawn, and the -Duke's garden party was becoming a mere ball, with privilege for the -dancers to stroll about the lawn between the dances. And in this -respect the fun was better than at a ball,--that let the engagements -made for partners be what they might, they could always be broken -with ease. No lady felt herself bound to dance with a cavalier who -was displeasing to her; and some gentlemen were left sadly in the -lurch. Phineas felt himself to be very much in the lurch, even after -he had discovered Violet Effingham standing up to dance with Lord -Fawn. - -He bided his time patiently, and at last he found his opportunity. -"Would she dance with him?" She declared that she intended to dance -no more, and that she had promised to be ready to return home with -Lord Brentford before ten o'clock. "I have pledged myself not to be -after ten," she said, laughing. Then she put her hand upon his arm, -and they stepped out upon the terrace together. "Have you heard -anything?" she asked him, almost in a whisper. - -"Yes," he said. "I have heard what you mean. I have heard it all." - -"Is it not dreadful?" - -"I fear it is the best thing she can do. She has never been happy -with him." - -"But to be accused after that fashion,--by her husband!" said Violet. -"One can hardly believe it in these days. And of all women she is the -last to deserve such accusation." - -"The very last," said Phineas, feeling that the subject was one upon -which it was not easy for him to speak. - -"I cannot conceive to whom he can have alluded," said Violet. Then -Phineas began to understand that Violet had not heard the whole -story; but the difficulty of speaking was still very great. - -"It has been the result of ungovernable temper," he said. - -"But a man does not usually strive to dishonour himself because he -is in a rage. And this man is incapable of rage. He must be cursed -with one of those dark gloomy minds in which love always leads to -jealousy. She will never return to him." - -"One cannot say. In many respects it would be better that she -should," said Phineas. - -"She will never return to him," repeated Violet,--"never. Would you -advise her to do so?" - -"How can I say? If one were called upon for advice, one would think -so much before one spoke." - -"I would not,--not for a minute. What! to be accused of that! How are -a man and woman to live together after there have been such words -between them? Poor Laura! What a terrible end to all her high hopes! -Do you not grieve for her?" - -They were now at some distance from the house, and Phineas could not -but feel that chance had been very good to him in giving him his -opportunity. She was leaning on his arm, and they were alone, and she -was speaking to him with all the familiarity of old friendship. "I -wonder whether I may change the subject," said he, "and ask you a -word about yourself?" - -"What word?" she said sharply. - -"I have heard--" - -"What have you heard?" - -"Simply this,--that you are not now as you were six months ago. Your -marriage was then fixed for June." - -"It has been unfixed since then," she said. - -"Yes;--it has been unfixed. I know it. Miss Effingham, you will not -be angry with me if I say that when I heard it was so, something of a -hope,--no, I must not call it a hope,--something that longed to form -itself into hope returned to my breast, and from that hour to this -has been the only subject on which I have cared to think." - -"Lord Chiltern is your friend, Mr. Finn?" - -"He is so, and I do not think that I have ever been untrue to my -friendship for him." - -"He says that no man has ever had a truer friend. He will swear to -that in all companies. And I, when it was allowed to me to swear with -him, swore it too. As his friend, let me tell you one thing,--one -thing which I would never tell to any other man,--one thing which I -know I may tell you in confidence. You are a gentleman, and will not -break my confidence?" - -"I think I will not." - -"I know you will not, because you are a gentleman. I told Lord -Chiltern in the autumn of last year that I loved him. And I did love -him. I shall never have the same confession to make to another man. -That he and I are not now,--on those loving terms,--which once -existed, can make no difference in that. A woman cannot transfer her -heart. There have been things which have made me feel,--that I was -perhaps mistaken,--in saying that I would be,--his wife. But I said -so, and cannot now give myself to another. Here is Lord Brentford, -and we will join him." There was Lord Brentford with Lady Laura on -his arm, very gloomy,--resolving on what way he might be avenged on -the man who had insulted his daughter. He took but little notice -of Phineas as he resumed his charge of Miss Effingham; but the two -ladies wished him good night. - -"Good night, Lady Laura," said Phineas, standing with his hat in his -hand,--"good night, Miss Effingham." Then he was alone,--quite alone. -Would it not be well for him to go down to the bottom of the garden, -and fling himself into the quiet river, so that there might be an -end of him? Or would it not be better still that he should create -for himself some quiet river of life, away from London, away from -politics, away from lords, and titled ladies, and fashionable -squares, and the parties given by dukes, and the disappointments -incident to a small man in attempting to make for himself a career -among big men? There had frequently been in the mind of this young -man an idea that there was something almost false in his own -position,--that his life was a pretence, and that he would ultimately -be subject to that ruin which always comes, sooner or later, on -things which are false; and now as he wandered alone about Lady -Glencora's gardens, this feeling was very strong within his bosom, -and robbed him altogether of the honour and glory of having been one -of the Duke of Omnium's guests. - - - - -CHAPTER LXV - -The Cabinet Minister at Killaloe - - -Phineas did not throw himself into the river from the Duke's garden; -and was ready, in spite of Violet Effingham, to start for Ireland -with Mr. Monk at the end of the first week in August. The close of -that season in London certainly was not a happy period of his life. -Violet had spoken to him after such a fashion that he could not bring -himself not to believe her. She had given him no hint whether it was -likely or unlikely that she and Lord Chiltern would be reconciled; -but she had convinced him that he could not be allowed to take Lord -Chiltern's place. "A woman cannot transfer her heart," she had said. -Phineas was well aware that many women do transfer their hearts; -but he had gone to this woman too soon after the wrench which her -love had received; he had been too sudden with his proposal for a -transfer; and the punishment for such ill judgment must be that -success would now be impossible to him. And yet how could he have -waited, feeling that Miss Effingham, if she were at all like other -girls whom he had known, might have promised herself to some other -lover before she would return within his reach in the succeeding -spring? But she was not like some other girls. Ah;--he knew that now, -and repented him of his haste. - -But he was ready for Mr. Monk on the 7th of August, and they started -together. Something less than twenty hours took them from London to -Killaloe, and during four or five of those twenty hours Mr. Monk -was unfitted for any conversation by the uncomfortable feelings -incidental to the passage from Holyhead to Kingstown. Nevertheless, -there was a great deal of conversation between them during the -journey. Mr. Monk had almost made up his mind to leave the Cabinet. -"It is sad to me to have to confess it," he said, "but the truth is -that my old rival, Turnbull, is right. A man who begins his political -life as I began mine, is not the man of whom a Minister should -be formed. I am inclined to think that Ministers of Government -require almost as much education in their trade as shoemakers or -tallow-chandlers. I doubt whether you can make a good public servant -of a man simply because he has got the ear of the House of Commons." - -"Then you mean to say," said Phineas, "that we are altogether wrong -from beginning to end, in our way of arranging these things?" - -"I do not say that at all. Look at the men who have been leading -statesmen since our present mode of government was formed,--from the -days in which it was forming itself, say from Walpole down, and you -will find that all who have been of real use had early training as -public servants." - -"Are we never to get out of the old groove?" - -"Not if the groove is good," said Mr. Monk, "Those who have been -efficient as ministers sucked in their efficacy with their mother's -milk. Lord Brock did so, and Lord de Terrier, and Mr. Mildmay. They -seated themselves in office chairs the moment they left college. -Mr. Gresham was in office before he was eight-and-twenty. The -Duke of St. Bungay was at work as a Private Secretary when he was -three-and-twenty. You, luckily for yourself, have done the same." - -"And regret it every hour of my life." - -"You have no cause for regret, but it is not so with me. If there be -any man unfitted by his previous career for office, it is he who has -become, or who has endeavoured to become, a popular politician,--an -exponent, if I may say so, of public opinion. As far as I can see, -office is offered to such men with one view only,--that of clipping -their wings." - -"And of obtaining their help." - -"It is the same thing. Help from Turnbull would mean the withdrawal -of all power of opposition from him. He could not give other help for -any long term, as the very fact of his accepting power and patronage -would take from him his popular leadership. The masses outside -require to have their minister as the Queen has hers; but the same -man cannot be minister to both. If the people's minister chooses to -change his master, and to take the Queen's shilling, something of -temporary relief may be gained by government in the fact that the -other place will for a time be vacant. But there are candidates -enough for such places, and the vacancy is not a vacancy long. Of -course the Crown has this pull, that it pays wages, and the people do -not." - -"I do not think that that influenced you," said Phineas. - -"It did not influence me. To you I will make bold to state so much -positively, though it would be foolish, perhaps, to do so to others. -I did not go for the shilling, though I am so poor a man that the -shilling is more to me than it would be to almost any man in the -House. I took the shilling, much doubting, but guided in part by -this, that I was ashamed of being afraid to take it. They told -me,--Mr. Mildmay and the Duke,--that I could earn it to the benefit -of the country. I have not earned it, and the country has not been -benefited,--unless it be for the good of the country that my voice in -the House should be silenced. If I believe that, I ought to hold my -tongue without taking a salary for holding it. I have made a mistake, -my friend. Such mistakes made at my time of life cannot be wholly -rectified; but, being convinced of my error, I must do the best in my -power to put myself right again." - -There was a bitterness in all this to Phineas himself of which he -could not but make plaint to his companion. "The truth is," he said, -"that a man in office must be a slave, and that slavery is -distasteful." - -"There I think you are wrong. If you mean that you cannot do joint -work with other men altogether after your own fashion the same may be -said of all work. If you had stuck to the Bar you must have pleaded -your causes in conformity with instructions from the attorneys." - -"I should have been guided by my own lights in advising those -attorneys." - -"I cannot see that you suffer anything that ought to go against the -grain with you. You are beginning young, and it is your first adopted -career. With me it is otherwise. If by my telling you this I shall -have led you astray, I shall regret my openness with you. Could I -begin again, I would willingly begin as you began." - -It was a great day in Killaloe, that on which Mr. Monk arrived with -Phineas at the doctor's house. In London, perhaps, a bishop inspires -more awe than a Cabinet Minister. In Killaloe, where a bishop might -be seen walking about every day, the mitred dignitary of the Church, -though much loved, was thought of, I fear, but lightly; whereas a -Cabinet Minister coming to stay in the house of a townsman was a -thing to be wondered at, to be talked about, to be afraid of, to be -a fruitful source of conversation for a year to come. There were -many in Killaloe, especially among the elder ladies, who had shaken -their heads and expressed the saddest doubts when young Phineas Finn -had first become a Parliament man. And though by degrees they had -been half brought round, having been driven to acknowledge that he -had been wonderfully successful as a Parliament man, still they -had continued to shake their heads among themselves, and to fear -something in the future,--until he appeared at his old home leading a -Cabinet Minister by the hand. There was such assurance in this that -even old Mrs. Callaghan, at the brewery, gave way, and began to say -all manner of good things, and to praise the doctor's luck in that he -had a son gifted with parts so excellent. There was a great desire to -see the Cabinet Minister in the flesh, to be with him when he ate and -drank, to watch the gait and countenance of the man, and to drink -water from this fountain of state lore which had been so wonderfully -brought among them by their young townsman. Mrs. Finn was aware that -it behoved her to be chary of her invitations, but the lady from the -brewery had said such good things of Mrs. Finn's black swan, that she -carried her point, and was invited to meet the Cabinet Minister at -dinner on the day after his arrival. - -Mrs. Flood Jones and her daughter were invited also to be of the -party. When Phineas had been last at Killaloe, Mrs. Flood Jones, -as the reader may remember, had remained with her daughter at -Floodborough,--feeling it to be her duty to keep her daughter away -from the danger of an unrequited attachment. But it seemed that -her purpose was changed now, or that she no longer feared the -danger,--for both Mary and her mother were now again living in -Killaloe, and Mary was at the doctor's house as much as ever. - -A day or two before the coming of the god and the demigod to the -little town, Barbara Finn and her friend had thus come to understand -each other as they walked along the Shannon side. "I am sure, my -dear, that he is engaged to nobody," said Barbara Finn. - -"And I am sure, my dear," said Mary, "that I do not care whether he -is or is not." - -"What do you mean, Mary?" - -"I mean what I say. Why should I care? Five years ago I had a foolish -dream, and now I am awake again. Think how old I have got to be!" - -"Yes;--you are twenty-three. What has that to do with it?" - -"It has this to do with it;--that I am old enough to know better. -Mamma and I quite understand each other. She used to be angry with -him, but she has got over all that foolishness now. It always made me -so vexed;--the idea of being angry with a man because,--because--! -You know one can't talk about it, it is so foolish. But that is all -over now." - -"Do you mean to say you don't care for him, Mary? Do you remember -what you used to swear to me less than two years ago?" - -"I remember it all very well, and I remember what a goose I was. As -for caring for him, of course I do,--because he is your brother, and -because I have known him all my life. But if he were going to be -married to-morrow, you would see that it would make no difference to -me." - -Barbara Finn walked on for a couple of minutes in silence before she -replied. "Mary," she said at last, "I don't believe a word of it." - -"Very well;--then all that I shall ask of you is, that we may not -talk about him any more. Mamma believes it, and that is enough for -me." Nevertheless, they did talk about Phineas during the whole of -that day, and very often talked about him afterwards, as long as Mary -remained at Killaloe. - -There was a large dinner party at the doctor's on the day after Mr. -Monk's arrival. The bishop was not there, though he was on terms -sufficiently friendly with the doctor's family to have been invited -on so grand an occasion; but he was not there, because Mrs. Finn -was determined that she would be taken out to dinner by a Cabinet -Minister in the face of all her friends. She was aware that had the -bishop been there, she must have taken the bishop's arm. And though -there would have been glory in that, the other glory was more to her -taste. It was the first time in her life that she had ever seen a -Cabinet Minister, and I think that she was a little disappointed at -finding him so like other middle-aged gentlemen. She had hoped that -Mr. Monk would have assumed something of the dignity of his position; -but he assumed nothing. Now the bishop, though he was a very mild -man, did assume something by the very facts of his apron and -knee-breeches. - -"I am sure, sir, it is very good of you to come and put up with our -humble way of living," said Mrs. Finn to her guest, as they sat down -at table. And yet she had resolved that she would not make any speech -of the kind,--that she would condescend to no apology,--that she -would bear herself as though a Cabinet Minister dined with her at -least once a year. But when the moment came, she broke down, and made -this apology with almost abject meekness, and then hated herself -because she had done so. - -"My dear madam," said Mr. Monk, "I live myself so much like a hermit -that your house is a palace of luxury to me." Then he felt that he -had made a foolish speech, and he also hated himself. He found it -very difficult to talk to his hostess upon any subject, until by -chance he mentioned his young friend Phineas. Then her tongue was -unloosed. "Your son, madam," he said, "is going with me to Limerick -and back to Dublin. It is a shame, I know, taking him so soon away -from home, but I should not know how to get on without him." - -"Oh, Mr. Monk, it is such a blessing for him, and such an honour for -us, that you should be so good to him." Then the mother spoke out -all her past fears and all her present hopes, and acknowledged the -great glory which it was to her to have a son sitting in Parliament, -holding an office with a stately name and a great salary, and blessed -with the friendship of such a man as Mr. Monk. After that Mr. Monk -got on better with her. - -"I don't know any young man," said he, "in whose career I have taken -so strong an interest." - -"He was always good," said Mrs. Finn, with a tear forcing itself into -the corner of each eye. "I am his mother, and of course I ought not -to say so,--not in this way; but it is true, Mr. Monk." And then the -poor lady was obliged to raise her handkerchief and wipe away the -drops. - -Phineas on this occasion had taken out to dinner the mother of his -devoted Mary, Mrs. Flood Jones. "What a pleasure it must be to the -doctor and Mrs. Finn to see you come back in this way," said Mrs. -Flood Jones. - -"With all my bones unbroken?" said he, laughing. - -"Yes; with all your bones unbroken. You know, Phineas, when we -first heard that you were to sit in Parliament, we were afraid that -you might break a rib or two,--since you choose to talk about the -breaking of bones." - -"Yes, I know. Everybody thought I should come to grief; but nobody -felt so sure of it as I did myself." - -"But you have not come to grief." - -"I am not out of the wood yet, you know, Mrs. Flood Jones. There is -plenty of possibility for grief in my way still." - -"As far as I can understand it, you are out of the wood. All that -your friends here want to see now is, that you should marry some nice -English girl, with a little money, if possible. Rumours have reached -us, you know." - -"Rumours always lie," said Phineas. - -"Sometimes they do, of course; and I am not going to ask any -indiscreet questions. But that is what we all hope. Mary was saying, -only the other day, that if you were once married, we should all -feel quite safe about you. And you know we all take the most lively -interest in your welfare. It is not every day that a man from County -Clare gets on as you have done, and therefore we are bound to think -of you." Thus Mrs. Flood Jones signified to Phineas Finn that she had -forgiven him the thoughtlessness of his early youth,--even though -there had been something of treachery in that thoughtlessness to her -own daughter; and showed him, also, that whatever Mary's feelings -might have been once, they were not now of a nature to trouble her. -"Of course you will marry?" said Mrs. Flood Jones. - -"I should think very likely not," said Phineas, who perhaps looked -farther into the mind of the lady than the lady intended. - -"Oh, do," said the lady. "Every man should marry as soon as he can, -and especially a man in your position." - -When the ladies met together in the drawing-room after dinner, -it was impossible but that they should discuss Mr. Monk. There -was Mrs. Callaghan from the brewery there, and old Lady Blood, of -Bloodstone,--who on ordinary occasions would hardly admit that she -was on dining-out terms with any one in Killaloe except the bishop, -but who had found it impossible to decline to meet a Cabinet -Minister,--and there was Mrs. Stackpoole from Sixmiletown, a far-away -cousin of the Finns, who hated Lady Blood with a true provincial -hatred. - -"I don't see anything particularly uncommon in him, after all," said -Lady Blood. - -"I think he is very nice indeed," said Mrs. Flood Jones. - -"So very quiet, my dear, and just like other people," said Mrs. -Callaghan, meaning to pronounce a strong eulogium on the Cabinet -Minister. - -"Very like other people indeed," said Lady Blood. - -"And what would you expect, Lady Blood?" said Mrs. Stackpoole. "Men -and women in London walk upon two legs, just as they do in Ennis." -Now Lady Blood herself had been born and bred in Ennis, whereas Mrs. -Stackpoole had come from Limerick, which is a much more considerable -town, and therefore there was a satire in this allusion to the habits -of the men of Ennis which Lady Blood understood thoroughly. - -"My dear Mrs. Stackpoole, I know how the people walk in London quite -as well as you do." Lady Blood had once passed three months in London -while Sir Patrick had been alive, whereas Mrs. Stackpoole had never -done more than visit the metropolis for a day or two. - -"Oh, no doubt," said Mrs. Stackpoole; "but I never can understand -what it is that people expect. I suppose Mr. Monk ought to have -come with his stars on the breast of his coat, to have pleased Lady -Blood." - -"My dear Mrs. Stackpoole, Cabinet Ministers don't have stars," said -Lady Blood. - -"I never said they did," said Mrs. Stackpoole. - -"He is so nice and gentle to talk to," said Mrs. Finn. "You may say -what you will, but men who are high up do very often give themselves -airs. Now I must say that this friend of my son's does not do -anything of that kind." - -"Not the least," said Mrs. Callaghan. - -"Quite the contrary," said Mrs. Stackpoole. - -"I dare say he is a wonderful man," said Lady Blood. "All I say is, -that I didn't hear anything wonderful come out of his mouth; and -as for people in Ennis walking on two legs, I have seen donkeys in -Limerick doing just the same thing." Now it was well known that Mrs. -Stackpoole had two sons living in Limerick, as to neither of whom -was it expected that he would set the Shannon on fire. After this -little speech there was no further mention of Mr. Monk, as it became -necessary that all the good-nature of Mrs. Finn and all the tact -of Mrs. Flood Jones and all the energy of Mrs. Callaghan should be -used, to prevent the raging of an internecine battle between Mrs. -Stackpoole and Lady Blood. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVI - -Victrix - - -Mr. Monk's holiday programme allowed him a week at Killaloe, and -from thence he was to go to Limerick, and from Limerick to Dublin, -in order that, at both places, he might be entertained at a public -dinner and make a speech about tenant-right. Foreseeing that Phineas -might commit himself if he attended these meetings, Mr. Monk had -counselled him to remain at Killaloe. But Phineas had refused to -subject himself to such cautious abstinence. Mr. Monk had come to -Ireland as his friend, and he would see him through his travels. "I -shall not, probably, be asked to speak," said Phineas, "and if I am -asked, I need not say more than a few words. And what if I did speak -out?" - -"You might find it disadvantageous to you in London." - -"I must take my chance of that. I am not going to tie myself down for -ever and ever for the sake of being Under-Secretary to the Colonies." -Mr. Monk said very much to him on the subject,--was constantly saying -very much to him about it; but in spite of all that Mr. Monk said, -Phineas did make the journey to Limerick and Dublin. - -He had not, since his arrival at Killaloe, been a moment alone with -Mary Flood Jones till the evening before he started with Mr. Monk. -She had kept out of his way successfully, though she had constantly -been with him in company, and was beginning to plume herself on the -strength and valour of her conduct. But her self-praise had in it -nothing of joy, and her glory was very sad. Of course she would care -for him no more,--more especially as it was so very evident that he -cared not at all for her. But the very fact of her keeping out of -his way, made her acknowledge to herself that her position was very -miserable. She had declared to her mother that she might certainly -go to Killaloe with safety,--that it would be better for her to put -herself in the way of meeting him as an old friend,--that the idea of -the necessity of shutting herself up because of his approach, was the -one thing that gave her real pain. Therefore her mother had brought -her to Killaloe and she had met him; but her fancied security had -deserted her, and she found herself to be miserable, hoping for -something she did not know what, still dreaming of possibilities, -feeling during every moment of his presence with her that some -special conduct was necessary on her part. She could not make further -confession to her mother and ask to be carried back to Floodborough; -but she knew that she was very wretched at Killaloe. - -As for Phineas, he had felt that his old friend was very cold to him. -He was in that humour with reference to Violet Effingham which seemed -especially to require consolation. He knew now that all hope was -over there. Violet Effingham could never be his wife. Even were she -not to marry Lord Chiltern for the next five years, she would not, -during those five years, marry any other man. Such was our hero's -conviction; and, suffering under this conviction, he was in want of -the comfort of feminine sympathy. Had Mary known all this, and had it -suited her to play such a part, I think she might have had Phineas -at her feet before he had been a week at home. But she had kept -aloof from him and had heard nothing of his sorrows. As a natural -consequence of this, Phineas was more in love with her than ever. - -On the evening before he started with Mr. Monk for Limerick, he -managed to be alone with her for a few minutes. Barbara may probably -have assisted in bringing about this arrangement, and had, perhaps, -been guilty of some treachery,--sisters in such circumstances will -sometimes be very treacherous to their friends. I feel sure, however, -that Mary herself was quite innocent of any guile in the matter. -"Mary," Phineas said to her suddenly, "it seems to me that you have -avoided me purposely ever since I have been at home." She smiled and -blushed, and stammered and said nothing. "Has there been any reason -for it, Mary?" - -"No reason at all that I know of," she said. - -"We used to be such great friends." - -"That was before you were a great man, Phineas. It must necessarily -be different now. You know so many people now, and people of such a -different sort, that of course I fall a little into the background." - -"When you talk in that way, Mary, I know that you are laughing at -me." - -"Indeed, indeed I am not." - -"I believe there is no one in the whole world," he said, after a -pause, "whose friendship is more to me than yours is. I think of it -so often, Mary. Say that when we come back it shall be between us as -it used to be." Then he put out his hand for hers, and she could not -help giving it to him. "Of course there will be people," he said, -"who talk nonsense, and one cannot help it; but I will not put up -with it from you." - -"I did not mean to talk nonsense, Phineas!" Then there came some one -across them, and the conversation was ended; but the sound of his -voice remained on her ears, and she could not help but remember -that he had declared that her friendship was dearer to him than the -friendship of any one else. - -Phineas went with Mr. Monk first to Limerick and then to Dublin, and -found himself at both places to be regarded as a hero only second -to the great hero. At both places the one subject of debate was -tenant-right;--could anything be done to make it profitable for men -with capital to put their capital into Irish land? The fertility of -the soil was questioned by no one,--nor the sufficiency of external -circumstances, such as railroads and the like;--nor the abundance of -labour;--nor even security for the wealth to be produced. The only -difficulty was in this, that the men who were to produce the wealth -had no guarantee that it would be theirs when it was created. In -England and elsewhere such guarantees were in existence. Might it not -be possible to introduce them into Ireland? That was the question -which Mr. Monk had in hand; and in various speeches which he made -both before and after the dinners given to him, he pledged himself to -keep it well in hand when Parliament should meet. Of course Phineas -spoke also. It was impossible that he should be silent when his -friend and leader was pouring out his eloquence. Of course he spoke, -and of course he pledged himself. Something like the old pleasures -of the debating society returned to him, as standing upon a platform -before a listening multitude, he gave full vent to his words. In -the House of Commons, of late he had been so cabined, cribbed, and -confined by office as to have enjoyed nothing of this. Indeed, from -the commencement of his career, he had fallen so thoroughly into the -decorum of Government ways, as to have missed altogether the delights -of that wild irresponsible oratory of which Mr. Monk had spoken -to him so often. He had envied men below the gangway, who, though -supporting the Government on main questions, could get up on their -legs whenever the House was full enough to make it worth their while, -and say almost whatever they pleased. There was that Mr. Robson, who -literally did say just what came uppermost; and the thing that came -uppermost was often ill-natured, often unbecoming the gravity of the -House, was always startling; but men listened to him and liked him to -speak. But Mr. Robson had--married a woman with money. Oh, why,--why, -had not Violet Effingham been kinder to him? He might even yet, -perhaps, marry a woman with money. But he could not bring himself to -do so unless he loved her. - -The upshot of the Dublin meeting was that he also positively pledged -himself to support during the next session of Parliament a bill -advocating tenant-right. "I am sorry you went so far as that," Mr. -Monk said to him almost as soon as the meeting was over. They were -standing on the pier at Kingstown, and Mr. Monk was preparing to -return to England. - -"And why not I as far as you?" - -"Because I had thought about it, and I do not think that you have. I -am prepared to resign my office to-morrow; and directly that I can -see Mr. Gresham and explain to him what I have done, I shall offer to -do so." - -"He won't accept your resignation." - -"He must accept it, unless he is prepared to instruct the Irish -Secretary to bring in such a bill as I can support." - -"I shall be exactly in the same boat." - -"But you ought not to be in the same boat;--nor need you. My advice -to you is to say nothing about it till you get back to London, and -then speak to Lord Cantrip. Tell him that you will not say anything -on the subject in the House, but that in the event of there being a -division you hope to be allowed to vote as on an open question. It -may be that I shall get Gresham's assent, and if so we shall be all -right. If I do not, and if they choose to make it a point with you, -you must resign also." - -"Of course I shall," said Phineas. - -"But I do not think they will. You have been too useful, and they -will wish to avoid the weakness which comes to a ministry from -changing its team. Good-bye, my dear fellow; and remember this,--my -last word of advice to you is to stick by the ship. I am quite sure -it is a career which will suit you. I did not begin it soon enough." - -Phineas was rather melancholy as he returned alone to Killaloe. It -was all very well to bid him stick to the ship, and he knew as well -as any one could tell him how material the ship was to him; but there -are circumstances in which a man cannot stick to his ship,--cannot -stick, at least, to this special Government ship. He knew that -whither Mr. Monk went, in this session, he must follow. He had -considerable hope that when Mr. Monk explained his purpose to the -Prime Minister, the Prime Minister would feel himself obliged to give -way. In that case Phineas would not only be able to keep his office, -but would have such an opportunity of making a speech in Parliament -as circumstances had never yet given to him. When he was again at -home he said nothing to his father or to the Killaloeians as to the -danger of his position. Of what use would it be to make his mother -and sisters miserable, or to incur the useless counsels of the -doctor? They seemed to think his speech at Dublin very fine, and were -never tired of talking of what Mr. Monk and Phineas were going to do; -but the idea had not come home to them that if Mr. Monk or Phineas -chose to do anything on their own account, they must give up the -places which they held under the Crown. - -It was September when Phineas found himself back at Killaloe, and he -was due to be at his office in London in November. The excitement -of Mr. Monk's company was now over, and he had nothing to do but to -receive pouches full of official papers from the Colonial Office, and -study all the statistics which came within his reach in reference to -the proposed new law for tenant-right. In the meantime Mary was still -living with her mother at Killaloe, and still kept herself somewhat -aloof from the man she loved. How could it be possible for him not to -give way in such circumstances as those? - -One day he found himself talking to her about himself, and speaking -to her of his own position with more frankness than he ever used with -his own family. He had begun by reminding her of that conversation -which they had had before he went away with Mr. Monk, and by -reminding her also that she had promised to return to her old -friendly ways with him. - -"Nay, Phineas; there was no promise," she said. - -"And are we not to be friends?" - -"I only say that I made no particular promise. Of course we are -friends. We have always been friends." - -"What would you say if you heard that I had resigned my office and -given up my seat?" he asked. Of course she expressed her surprise, -almost her horror, at such an idea, and then he told her everything. -It took long in the telling, because it was necessary that he should -explain to her the working of the system which made it impossible for -him, as a member of the Government, to entertain an opinion of his -own. - -"And do you mean that you would lose your salary?" she asked. - -"Certainly I should." - -"Would not that be very dreadful?" - -He laughed as he acknowledged that it would be dreadful. "It is very -dreadful, Mary, to have nothing to eat and drink. But what is a man -to do? Would you recommend me to say that black is white?" - -"I am sure you will never do that." - -"You see, Mary, it is very nice to be called by a big name and to -have a salary, and it is very comfortable to be envied by one's -friends and enemies;--but there are drawbacks. There is this especial -drawback." Then he paused for a moment before he went on. - -"What especial drawback, Phineas?" - -"A man cannot do what he pleases with himself. How can a man marry, -so circumstanced as I am?" - -She hesitated for a moment, and then she answered him,--"A man may be -very happy without marrying, I suppose." - -He also paused for many moments before he spoke again, and she then -made a faint attempt to escape from him. But before she succeeded he -had asked her a question which arrested her. "I wonder whether you -would listen to me if I were to tell you a history?" Of course she -listened, and the history he told her was the tale of his love for -Violet Effingham. - -"And she has money of her own?" Mary asked. - -"Yes;--she is rich. She has a large fortune." - -"Then, Mr. Finn, you must seek some one else who is equally blessed." - -"Mary, that is untrue,--that is ill-natured. You do not mean that. -Say that you do not mean it. You have not believed that I loved Miss -Effingham because she was rich." - -"But you have told me that you could love no one who is not rich." - -"I have said nothing of the kind. Love is involuntary. It does not -often run in a yoke with prudence. I have told you my history as -far as it is concerned with Violet Effingham. I did love her very -dearly." - -"Did love her, Mr. Finn?" - -"Yes;--did love her. Is there any inconstancy in ceasing to love when -one is not loved? Is there inconstancy in changing one's love, and in -loving again?" - -"I do not know," said Mary, to whom the occasion was becoming so -embarrassing that she no longer was able to reply with words that had -a meaning in them. - -"If there be, dear, I am inconstant." He paused, but of course she -had not a syllable to say. "I have changed my love. But I could not -speak of a new passion till I had told the story of that which has -passed away. You have heard it all now, Mary. Can you try to love me, -after that?" It had come at last,--the thing for which she had been -ever wishing. It had come in spite of her imprudence, and in spite of -her prudence. When she had heard him to the end she was not a whit -angry with him,--she was not in the least aggrieved,--because he had -been lost to her in his love for this Miss Effingham, while she had -been so nearly lost by her love for him. For women such episodes -in the lives of their lovers have an excitement which is almost -pleasurable, whereas each man is anxious to hear his lady swear that -until he appeared upon the scene her heart had been fancy free. Mary, -upon the whole, had liked the story,--had thought that it had been -finely told, and was well pleased with the final catastrophe. But, -nevertheless, she was not prepared with her reply. "Have you no -answer to give me, Mary?" he said, looking up into her eyes. I am -afraid that he did not doubt what would be her answer,--as it would -be good that all lovers should do. "You must vouchsafe me some word, -Mary." - -When she essayed to speak she found that she was dumb. She could not -get her voice to give her the assistance of a single word. She did -not cry, but there was a motion as of sobbing in her throat which -impeded all utterance. She was as happy as earth,--as heaven could -make her; but she did not know how to tell him that she was happy. -And yet she longed to tell it, that he might know how thankful she -was to him for his goodness. He still sat looking at her, and now by -degrees he had got her hand in his. "Mary," he said, "will you be my -wife,--my own wife?" - -When half an hour had passed, they were still together, and now she -had found the use of her tongue. "Do whatever you like best," she -said. "I do not care which you do. If you came to me to-morrow and -told me you had no income, it would make no difference. Though to -love you and to have your love is all the world to me,--though it -makes all the difference between misery and happiness,--I would -sooner give up that than be a clog on you." Then he took her in his -arms and kissed her. "Oh, Phineas!" she said, "I do love you so -entirely!" - -"My own one!" - -"Yes; your own one. But if you had known it always! Never mind. Now -you are my own,--are you not?" - -"Indeed yes, dearest." - -"Oh, what a thing it is to be victorious at last." - -"What on earth are you two doing here these two hours together?" said -Barbara, bursting into the room. - -"What are we doing?" said Phineas. - -"Yes;--what are you doing?" - -"Nothing in particular," said Mary. - -"Nothing at all in particular," said Phineas. "Only this,--that we -have engaged ourselves to marry each other. It is quite a trifle,--is -it not, Mary?" - -"Oh, Barbara!" said the joyful girl, springing forward into her -friend's arms; "I do believe I am the happiest creature on the face -of this earth!" - - - - -CHAPTER LXVII - -Job's Comforters - - -Before Phineas had returned to London his engagement with Mary Flood -Jones was known to all his family, was known to Mrs. Flood Jones, and -was indeed known generally to all Killaloe. That other secret of his, -which had reference to the probability of his being obliged to throw -up his office, was known only to Mary herself. He thought that he had -done all that honour required of him in telling her of his position -before he had proposed;--so that she might on that ground refuse -him if she were so minded. And yet he had known very well that such -prudence on her part was not to be expected. If she loved him, of -course she would say so when she was asked. And he had known that -she loved him. "There may be delay, Mary," he said to her as he was -going; "nay, there must be delay, if I am obliged to resign." - -"I do not care a straw for delay if you will be true to me," she -said. - -"Do you doubt my truth, dearest?" - -"Not in the least. I will swear by it as the one thing that is truest -in the world." - -"You may, dearest. And if this should come to pass I must go to work -and put my shoulder to the wheel, and earn an income for you by my -old profession before I can make you my wife. With such a motive -before me I know that I shall earn an income." And thus they parted. -Mary, though of course she would have preferred that her future -husband should remain in his high office, that he should be a member -of Parliament and an Under-Secretary of State, admitted no doubt -into her mind to disturb her happiness; and Phineas, though he had -many misgivings as to the prudence of what he had done, was not the -less strong in his resolution of constancy and endurance. He would -throw up his position, resign his seat, and go to work at the Bar -instantly, if he found that his independence as a man required him to -do so. And, above all, let come what might, he would be true to Mary -Flood Jones. - -December was half over before he saw Lord Cantrip. "Yes,--yes;" said -Lord Cantrip, when the Under-Secretary began to tell his story; "I -saw what you were about. I wish I had been at your elbow." - -"If you knew the country as I know it, you would be as eager about it -as I am." - -"Then I can only say that I am very glad that I do not know the -country as you know it. You see, Finn, it's my idea that if a man -wants to make himself useful he should stick to some special kind of -work. With you it's a thousand pities that you should not do so." - -"You think, then, I ought to resign?" - -"I don't say anything about that. As you wish it, of course I'll -speak to Gresham. Monk, I believe, has resigned already." - -"He has written to me, and told me so," said Phineas. - -"I always felt afraid of him for your sake, Finn. Mr. Monk is a -clever man, and as honest a man as any in the House, but I always -thought that he was a dangerous friend for you. However, we will see. -I will speak to Gresham after Christmas. There is no hurry about it." - -When Parliament met the first great subject of interest was the -desertion of Mr. Monk from the Ministry. He at once took his place -below the gangway, sitting as it happened exactly in front of Mr. -Turnbull, and there he made his explanation. Some one opposite asked -a question whether a certain right honourable gentleman had not left -the Cabinet. Then Mr. Gresham replied that to his infinite regret his -right honourable friend, who lately presided at the Board of Trade, -had resigned; and he went on to explain that this resignation had, -according to his ideas, been quite unnecessary. His right honourable -friend entertained certain ideas about Irish tenant-right, as to -which he himself and his right honourable friend the Secretary for -Ireland could not exactly pledge themselves to be in unison with him; -but he had thought that the motion might have rested at any rate over -this session. Then Mr. Monk explained, making his first great speech -on Irish tenant-right. He found himself obliged to advocate some -immediate measure for giving security to the Irish farmer; and as he -could not do so as a member of the Cabinet, he was forced to resign -the honour of that position. He said something also as to the great -doubt which had ever weighed on his own mind as to the inexpediency -of a man at his time of life submitting himself for the first time -to the trammels of office. This called up Mr. Turnbull, who took -the opportunity of saying that he now agreed cordially with his old -friend for the first time since that old friend had listened to the -blandishments of the ministerial seducer, and that he welcomed his -old friend back to those independent benches with great satisfaction. -In this way the debate was very exciting. Nothing was said which made -it then necessary for Phineas to get upon his legs or to declare -himself; but he perceived that the time would rapidly come in which -he must do so. Mr. Gresham, though he strove to speak with gentle -words, was evidently very angry with the late President of the Board -of Trade; and, moreover, it was quite clear that a bill would be -introduced by Mr. Monk himself, which Mr. Gresham was determined -to oppose. If all this came to pass and there should be a close -division, Phineas felt that his fate would be sealed. When he again -spoke to Lord Cantrip on the subject, the Secretary of State shrugged -his shoulders and shook his head. "I can only advise you," said Lord -Cantrip, "to forget all that took place in Ireland. If you will do -so, nobody else will remember it." "As if it were possible to forget -such things," he said in the letter which he wrote to Mary that -night. "Of course I shall go now. If it were not for your sake, I -should not in the least regret it." - -He had been with Madame Goesler frequently in the winter, and had -discussed with her so often the question of his official position -that she had declared that she was coming at last to understand the -mysteries of an English Cabinet. "I think you are quite right, my -friend," she said,--"quite right. What--you are to be in Parliament -and say that this black thing is white, or that this white thing is -black, because you like to take your salary! That cannot be honest!" -Then, when he came to talk to her of money,--that he must give up -Parliament itself, if he gave up his place,--she offered to lend him -money. "Why should you not treat me as a friend?" she said. When he -pointed out to her that there would never come a time in which he -could pay such money back, she stamped her foot and told him that -he had better leave her. "You have high principle," she said, "but -not principle sufficiently high to understand that this thing could -be done between you and me without disgrace to either of us." Then -Phineas assured her with tears in his eyes that such an arrangement -was impossible without disgrace to him. - -But he whispered to this new friend no word of the engagement with -his dear Irish Mary. His Irish life, he would tell himself, was a -thing quite apart and separate from his life in England. He said not -a word about Mary Flood Jones to any of those with whom he lived -in London. Why should he, feeling as he did that it would so soon -be necessary that he should disappear from among them? About Miss -Effingham he had said much to Madame Goesler. She had asked him -whether he had abandoned all hope. "That affair, then, is over?" she -had said. - -"Yes;--it is all over now." - -"And she will marry the red-headed, violent lord?" - -"Heaven knows. I think she will. But she is exactly the girl to -remain unmarried if she takes it into her head that the man she likes -is in any way unfitted for her." - -"Does she love this lord?" - -"Oh yes;--there is no doubt of that." And Phineas, as he made this -acknowledgment, seemed to do so without much inward agony of soul. -When he had been last in London he could not speak of Violet and Lord -Chiltern together without showing that his misery was almost too much -for him. - -At this time he received some counsel from two friends. One was -Laurence Fitzgibbon, and the other was Barrington Erle. Laurence had -always been true to him after a fashion, and had never resented his -intrusion at the Colonial Office. "Phineas, me boy," he said, "if all -this is thrue, you're about up a tree." - -"It is true that I shall support Monk's motion." - -"Then, me boy, you're up a tree as far as office goes. A place like -that niver suited me, because, you see, that poker of a young lord -expected so much of a man; but you don't mind that kind of thing, and -I thought you were as snug as snug." - -"Troubles will come, you see, Laurence." - -"Bedad, yes. It's all throubles, I think, sometimes. But you've a way -out of all your throubles." - -"What way?" - -"Pop the question to Madame Max. The money's all thrue, you know." - -"I don't doubt the money in the least," said Phineas. - -"And it's my belief she'll take you without a second word. Anyways, -thry it, Phinny, my boy. That's my advice." Phineas so far agreed -with his friend Laurence that he thought it possible that Madame -Goesler might accept him were he to propose marriage to her. He knew, -of course, that that mode of escape from his difficulties was out -of the question for him, but he could not explain this to Laurence -Fitzgibbon. - -"I am sorry to hear that you have taken up a bad cause," said -Barrington Erle to him. - -"It is a pity;--is it not?" - -"And the worst of it is that you'll sacrifice yourself and do no good -to the cause. I never knew a man break away in this fashion, and not -feel afterwards that he had done it all for nothing." - -"But what is a man to do, Barrington? He can't smother his -convictions." - -"Convictions! There is nothing on earth that I'm so much afraid of in -a young member of Parliament as convictions. There are ever so many -rocks against which men get broken. One man can't keep his temper. -Another can't hold his tongue. A third can't say a word unless he has -been priming himself half a session. A fourth is always thinking of -himself, and wanting more than he can get. A fifth is idle, and won't -be there when he's wanted. A sixth is always in the way. A seventh -lies so that you never can trust him. I've had to do with them all, -but a fellow with convictions is the worst of all." - -"I don't see how a fellow is to help himself," said Phineas. "When a -fellow begins to meddle with politics they will come." - -"Why can't you grow into them gradually as your betters and elders -have done before you? It ought to be enough for any man, when he -begins, to know that he's a Liberal. He understands which side of the -House he's to vote, and who is to lead him. What's the meaning of -having a leader to a party, if it's not that? Do you think that you -and Mr. Monk can go and make a government between you?" - -"Whatever I think, I'm sure he doesn't." - -"I'm not so sure of that. But look here, Phineas, I don't care two -straws about Monk's going. I always thought that Mildmay and the -Duke were wrong when they asked him to join. I knew he'd go over the -traces,--unless, indeed, he took his money and did nothing for it, -which is the way with some of those Radicals. I look upon him as -gone." - -"He has gone." - -"The devil go along with him, as you say in Ireland. But don't you be -such a fool as to ruin yourself for a crotchet of Monk's. It isn't -too late yet for you to hold back. To tell you the truth, Gresham -has said a word to me about it already. He is most anxious that you -should stay, but of course you can't stay and vote against us." - -"Of course I cannot." - -"I look upon you, you know, as in some sort my own child. I've tried -to bring other fellows forward who seemed to have something in them, -but I have never succeeded as I have with you. You've hit the thing -off, and have got the ball at your foot. Upon my honour, in the whole -course of my experience I have never known such good fortune as -yours." - -"And I shall always remember how it began, Barrington," said Phineas, -who was greatly moved by the energy and solicitude of his friend. - -"But, for God's sake, don't go and destroy it all by such mad -perversity as this. They mean to do something next session. Morrison -is going to take it up." Sir Walter Morrison was at this time -Secretary for Ireland. "But of course we can't let a fellow like Monk -take the matter into his own hands just when he pleases. I call it -d----d treachery." - -"Monk is no traitor, Barrington." - -"Men will have their own opinions about that. It's generally -understood that when a man is asked to take a seat in the Cabinet he -is expected to conform with his colleagues, unless something very -special turns up. But I am speaking of you now, and not of Monk. You -are not a man of fortune. You cannot afford to make ducks and drakes. -You are excellently placed, and you have plenty of time to hark back, -if you'll only listen to reason. All that Irish stump balderdash will -never be thrown in your teeth by us, if you will just go on as though -it had never been uttered." - -Phineas could only thank his friend for his advice, which was at -least disinterested, and was good of its kind, and tell him that he -would think of it. He did think of it very much. He almost thought -that, were it to do again, he would allow Mr. Monk to go upon his -tour alone, and keep himself from the utterance of anything that so -good a judge as Erle could call stump balderdash. As he sat in his -arm-chair in his room at the Colonial Office, with despatch-boxes -around him, and official papers spread before him,--feeling himself -to be one of those who in truth managed and governed the affairs of -this great nation, feeling also that if he relinquished his post now -he could never regain it,--he did wish that he had been a little less -in love with independence, a little quieter in his boastings that no -official considerations should ever silence his tongue. But all this -was too late now. He knew that his skin was not thick enough to bear -the arrows of those archers who would bend their bows against him if -he should now dare to vote against Mr. Monk's motion. His own party -might be willing to forgive and forget; but there would be others who -would read those reports, and would appear in the House with the -odious tell-tale newspapers in their hands. - -Then he received a letter from his father. Some good-natured person -had enlightened the doctor as to the danger in which his son -was placing himself. Dr. Finn, who in his own profession was a -very excellent and well-instructed man, had been so ignorant of -Parliamentary tactics, as to have been proud at his son's success at -the Irish meetings. He had thought that Phineas was carrying on his -trade as a public speaker with proper energy and continued success. -He had cared nothing himself for tenant-right, and had acknowledged -to Mr. Monk that he could not understand in what it was that the -farmers were wronged. But he knew that Mr. Monk was a Cabinet -Minister, and he thought that Phineas was earning his salary. Then -there came some one who undeceived him, and the paternal bosom of -the doctor was dismayed. "I don't mean to interfere," he said in his -letter, "but I can hardly believe that you really intend to resign -your place. Yet I am told that you must do so if you go on with this -matter. My dear boy, pray think about it. I cannot imagine you are -disposed to lose all that you have won for nothing." Mary also wrote -to him. Mrs. Finn had been talking to her, and Mary had taught -herself to believe that after the many sweet conversations she -had had with a man so high in office as Phineas, she really did -understand something about the British Government. Mrs. Finn had -interrogated Mary, and Mary had been obliged to own that it was quite -possible that Phineas would be called upon to resign. - -"But why, my dear? Heaven and earth! Resign two thousand a year!" - -"That he may maintain his independence," said Mary proudly. - -"Fiddlestick!" said Mrs. Finn. "How is he to maintain you, or himself -either, if he goes on in that way? I shouldn't wonder if he didn't -get himself all wrong, even now." Then Mrs. Finn began to cry; and -Mary could only write to her lover, pointing out to him how very -anxious all his friends were that he should do nothing in a hurry. -But what if the thing were done already! Phineas in his great -discomfort went to seek further counsel from Madame Goesler. Of all -his counsellors, Madame Goesler was the only one who applauded him -for what he was about to do. - -"But, after all, what is it you give up? Mr. Gresham may be out -to-morrow, and then where will be your place?" - -"There does not seem to be much chance of that at present." - -"Who can tell? Of course I do not understand,--but it was only the -other day when Mr. Mildmay was there, and only the day before that -when Lord de Terrier was there, and again only the day before -that when Lord Brock was there." Phineas endeavoured to make her -understand that of the four Prime Ministers whom she had named, three -were men of the same party as himself, under whom it would have -suited him to serve. "I would not serve under any man if I were an -English gentleman in Parliament," said Madame Goesler. - -"What is a poor fellow to do?" said Phineas, laughing. - -"A poor fellow need not be a poor fellow unless he likes," said -Madame Goesler. Immediately after this Phineas left her, and as he -went along the street he began to question himself whether the -prospects of his own darling Mary were at all endangered by his -visits to Park Lane; and to reflect what sort of a blackguard he -would be,--a blackguard of how deep a dye,--were he to desert Mary -and marry Madame Max Goesler. Then he also asked himself as to the -nature and quality of his own political honesty if he were to abandon -Mary in order that he might maintain his parliamentary independence. -After all, if it should ever come to pass that his biography should -be written, his biographer would say very much more about the manner -in which he kept his seat in Parliament than of the manner in which -he kept his engagement with Miss Mary Flood Jones. Half a dozen -people who knew him and her might think ill of him for his conduct -to Mary, but the world would not condemn him! And when he thundered -forth his liberal eloquence from below the gangway as an independent -member, having the fortune of his charming wife to back him, giving -excellent dinners at the same time in Park Lane, would not the world -praise him very loudly? - -When he got to his office he found a note from Lord Brentford -inviting him to dine in Portman Square. - - - - -CHAPTER LXVIII - -The Joint Attack - - -The note from Lord Brentford surprised our hero not a little. He had -had no communication with the Earl since the day on which he had been -so savagely scolded about the duel, when the Earl had plainly told -him that his conduct had been as bad as it could be. Phineas had not -on that account become at all ashamed of his conduct in reference to -the duel, but he had conceived that any reconciliation between him -and the Earl had been out of the question. Now there had come a -civilly-worded invitation, asking him to dine with the offended -nobleman. The note had been written by Lady Laura, but it had -purported to come from Lord Brentford himself. He sent back word to -say that he should be happy to have the honour of dining with Lord -Brentford. - -Parliament at this time had been sitting nearly a month, and it was -already March. Phineas had heard nothing of Lady Laura, and did not -even know that she was in London till he saw her handwriting. He did -not know that she had not gone back to her husband, and that she had -remained with her father all the winter at Saulsby. He had also -heard that Lord Chiltern had been at Saulsby. All the world had been -talking of the separation of Mr. Kennedy from his wife, one half of -the world declaring that his wife, if not absolutely false to him, -had neglected all her duties; and the other half asserting that Mr. -Kennedy's treatment of his wife had been so bad that no woman could -possibly have lived with him. There had even been a rumour that Lady -Laura had gone off with a lover from the Duke of Omnium's garden -party, and some indiscreet tongue had hinted that a certain unmarried -Under-Secretary of State was missing at the same time. But Lord -Chiltern upon this had shown his teeth with so strong a propensity to -do some real biting, that no one had ventured to repeat that rumour. -Its untruth was soon established by the fact that Lady Laura Kennedy -was living with her father at Saulsby. Of Mr. Kennedy, Phineas had as -yet seen nothing since he had been up in town. That gentleman, though -a member of the Cabinet, had not been in London at the opening of the -session, nor had he attended the Cabinet meetings during the recess. -It had been stated in the newspapers that he was ill, and stated in -private that he could not bear to show himself since his wife had -left him. At last, however, he came to London, and Phineas saw him in -the House. Then, when the first meeting of the Cabinet was summoned -after his return, it became known that he also had resigned his -office. There was nothing said about his resignation in the House. He -had resigned on the score of ill-health, and that very worthy peer, -Lord Mount Thistle, formerly Sir Marmaduke Morecombe, came back to -the Duchy of Lancaster in his place. A Prime Minister sometimes finds -great relief in the possession of a serviceable stick who can be made -to go in and out as occasion may require; only it generally happens -that the stick will expect some reward when he is made to go out. -Lord Mount Thistle immediately saw his way to a viscount's coronet, -when he was once more summoned to the august councils of the -Ministers. - -A few days after this had been arranged, in the interval between -Lord Brentford's invitation and Lord Brentford's dinner, Phineas -encountered Mr. Kennedy so closely in one of the passages of the -House that it was impossible that they should not speak to each -other, unless they were to avoid each other as people do who have -palpably quarrelled. Phineas saw that Mr. Kennedy was hesitating, and -therefore took the bull by the horns. He greeted his former friend -in a friendly fashion, shaking him by the hand, and then prepared -to pass on. But Mr. Kennedy, though he had hesitated at first, now -detained his brother member. "Finn," he said, "if you are not engaged -I should like to speak to you for a moment." Phineas was not engaged, -and allowed himself to be led out arm-in-arm by the late Chancellor -of the Duchy into Westminster Hall. "Of course you know what a -terrible thing has happened to me," said Mr. Kennedy. - -"Yes;--I have heard of it," said Phineas. - -"Everybody has heard of it. That is one of the terrible cruelties of -such a blow." - -"All those things are very bad of course. I was very much -grieved,--because you have both been intimate friends of mine." - -"Yes,--yes; we were. Do you ever see her now?" - -"Not since last July,--at the Duke's party, you know." - -"Ah, yes; the morning of that day was the last on which I spoke to -her. It was then she left me." - -"I am going to dine with Lord Brentford to-morrow, and I dare say she -will be there." - -"Yes;--she is in town. I saw her yesterday in her father's carriage. -I think that she had no cause to leave me." - -"Of course I cannot say anything about that." - -"I think she had no cause to leave me." Phineas as he heard this -could not but remember all that Lady Laura had told himself, and -thought that no woman had ever had a better reason for leaving her -husband. "There were things I did not like, and I said so." - -"I suppose that is generally the way," replied Phineas. - -"But surely a wife should listen to a word of caution from her -husband." - -"I fancy they never like it," said Phineas. - -"But are we all of us to have all that we like? I have not found it -so. Or would it be good for us if we had?" Then he paused; but as -Phineas had no further remark to make, he continued speaking after -they had walked about a third of the length of the hall. "It is not -of my own comfort I am thinking now so much as of her name and her -future conduct. Of course it will in every sense be best for her that -she should come back to her husband's roof." - -"Well; yes;--perhaps it would," said Phineas. - -"Has she not accepted that lot for better or for worse?" said Mr. -Kennedy, solemnly. - -"But incompatibility of temper, you know, is always,--always -supposed--. You understand me?" - -"It is my intention that she should come back to me. I do not wish to -make any legal demand;--at any rate, not as yet. Will you consent to -be the bearer of a message from me both to herself and to the Earl?" - -Now it seemed to Phineas that of all the messengers whom Mr. Kennedy -could have chosen he was the most unsuited to be a Mercury in this -cause,--not perceiving that he had been so selected with some craft, -in order that Lady Laura might understand that the accusation against -her was, at any rate, withdrawn, which had named Phineas as her -lover. He paused again before he answered. "Of course," he said, "I -should be most willing to be of service, if it were possible. But I -do not see how I can speak to the Earl about it. Though I am going to -dine with him I don't know why he has asked me;--for he and I are on -very bad terms. He heard that stupid story about the duel, and has -not spoken to me since." - -"I heard that, too," said Mr. Kennedy, frowning blackly as he -remembered his wife's duplicity. - -"Everybody heard of it. But it has made such a difference between him -and me, that I don't think I can meddle. Send for Lord Chiltern, and -speak to him." - -"Speak to Chiltern! Never! He would probably strike me on the head -with his club." - -"Call on the Earl yourself." - -"I did, and he would not see me." - -"Write to him." - -"I did, and he sent back my letter unopened." - -"Write to her." - -"I did;--and she answered me, saying only thus; 'Indeed, indeed, it -cannot be so.' But it must be so. The laws of God require it, and the -laws of man permit it. I want some one to point out that to them more -softly than I could do if I were simply to write to that effect. To -the Earl, of course, I cannot write again." The conference ended by a -promise from Phineas that he would, if possible, say a word to Lady -Laura. - -When he was shown into Lord Brentford's drawing-room he found not -only Lady Laura there, but her brother. Lord Brentford was not in -the room. Barrington Erle was there, and so also were Lord and Lady -Cantrip. - -"Is not your father going to be here?" he said to Lady Laura, after -their first greeting. - -"We live in that hope," said she, "and do not at all know why he -should be late. What has become of him, Oswald?" - -"He came in with me half an hour ago, and I suppose he does not -dress as quickly as I do," said Lord Chiltern; upon which Phineas -immediately understood that the father and the son were reconciled, -and he rushed to the conclusion that Violet and her lover would also -soon be reconciled, if such were not already the case. He felt some -remnant of a soreness that it should be so, as a man feels where -his headache has been when the real ache itself has left him. Then -the host came in and made his apologies. "Chiltern kept me standing -about," he said, "till the east wind had chilled me through and -through. The only charm I recognise in youth is that it is impervious -to the east wind." Phineas felt quite sure now that Violet and her -lover were reconciled, and he had a distinct feeling of the place -where the ache had been. Dear Violet! But, after all, Violet lacked -that sweet, clinging, feminine softness which made Mary Flood Jones -so pre-eminently the most charming of her sex. The Earl, when he had -repeated his general apology, especially to Lady Cantrip, who was the -only lady present except his daughter, came up to our hero and shook -him kindly by the hand. He took him up to one of the windows and then -addressed him in a voice of mock solemnity. - -"Stick to the colonies, young man," he said, "and never meddle with -foreign affairs;--especially not at Blankenberg." - -"Never again, my Lord;--never again." - -"And leave all questions of fire-arms to be arranged between the -Horse Guards and the War Office. I have heard a good deal about it -since I saw you, and I retract a part of what I said. But a duel is a -foolish thing,--a very foolish thing. Come;--here is dinner." And the -Earl walked off with Lady Cantrip, and Lord Cantrip walked off with -Lady Laura. Barrington Erle followed, and Phineas had an opportunity -of saying a word to his friend, Lord Chiltern, as they went down -together. - -"It's all right between you and your father?" - -"Yes;--after a fashion. There is no knowing how long it will last. He -wants me to do three things, and I won't do any one of them." - -"What are the three?" - -"To go into Parliament, to be an owner of sheep and oxen, and to hunt -in his own county. I should never attend the first, I should ruin -myself with the second, and I should never get a run in the third." -But there was not a word said about his marriage. - -There were only seven who sat down to dinner, and the six were all -people with whom Phineas was or had been on most intimate terms. -Lord Cantrip was his official chief, and, since that connection had -existed between them, Lady Cantrip had been very gracious to him. -She quite understood the comfort which it was to her husband to have -under him, as his representative in the House of Commons, a man whom -he could thoroughly trust and like, and therefore she had used her -woman's arts to bind Phineas to her lord in more than mere official -bondage. She had tried her skill also upon Laurence Fitzgibbon,--but -altogether in vain. He had eaten her dinners and accepted her -courtesies, and had given for them no return whatever. But Phineas -had possessed a more grateful mind, and had done all that had been -required of him;--had done all that had been required of him till -there had come that terrible absurdity in Ireland. "I knew very well -what sort of things would happen when they brought such a man as Mr. -Monk into the Cabinet," Lady Cantrip had said to her husband. - -But though the party was very small, and though the guests were all -his intimate friends, Phineas suspected nothing special till an -attack was made upon him as soon as the servants had left the room. -This was done in the presence of the two ladies, and, no doubt, had -been preconcerted. There was Lord Cantrip there, who had already said -much to him, and Barrington Erle who had said more even than Lord -Cantrip. Lord Brentford, himself a member of the Cabinet, opened the -attack by asking whether it was actually true that Mr. Monk meant -to go on with his motion. Barrington Erle asserted that Mr. Monk -positively would do so. "And Gresham will oppose it?" asked the Earl. -"Of course he will," said Barrington. "Of course he will," said Lord -Cantrip. "I know what I should think of him if he did not," said Lady -Cantrip. "He is the last man in the world to be forced into a thing," -said Lady Laura. Then Phineas knew pretty well what was coming on -him. - -Lord Brentford began again by asking how many supporters Mr. Monk -would have in the House. "That depends upon the amount of courage -which the Conservatives may have," said Barrington Erle. "If they -dare to vote for a thoroughly democratic measure, simply for the sake -of turning us out, it is quite on the cards that they may succeed." -"But of our own people?" asked Lord Cantrip. "You had better inquire -that of Phineas Finn," said Barrington. And then the attack was made. - -Our hero had a bad half hour of it, though many words were said which -must have gratified him much. They all wanted to keep him,--so Lord -Cantrip declared, "except one or two whom I could name, and who are -particularly anxious to wear his shoes," said Barrington, thinking -that certain reminiscences of Phineas with regard to Mr. Bonteen -and others might operate as strongly as any other consideration to -make him love his place. Lord Brentford declared that he could not -understand it,--that he should find himself lost in amazement if such -a man as his young friend allowed himself to be led into the outer -wilderness by such an ignis-fatuus of light as this. Lord Cantrip -laid down the unwritten traditional law of Government officials very -plainly. A man in office,--in an office which really imposed upon -him as much work as he could possibly do with credit to himself or -his cause,--was dispensed from the necessity of a conscience with -reference to other matters. It was for Sir Walter Morrison to have -a conscience about Irish tenant-right, as no doubt he had,--just as -Phineas Finn had a conscience about Canada, and Jamaica, and the -Cape. Barrington Erle was very strong about parties in general, and -painted the comforts of official position in glowing colours. But I -think that the two ladies were more efficacious than even their male -relatives in the arguments which they used. "We have been so happy -to have you among us," said Lady Cantrip, looking at him with -beseeching, almost loving eyes. "Mr. Finn knows," said Lady Laura, -"that since he first came into Parliament I have always believed -in his success, and I have been very proud to see it." "We shall -weep over him, as over a fallen angel, if he leaves us," said Lady -Cantrip. "I won't say that I will weep," said Lady Laura, "but I do -not know anything of the kind that would so truly make me unhappy." - -What was he to say in answer to applications so flattering and so -pressing? He would have said nothing, had that been possible, but he -felt himself obliged to reply. He replied very weakly,--of course, -not justifying himself, but declaring that as he had gone so far he -must go further. He must vote for the measure now. Both his chief and -Barrington Erle proved, or attempted to prove, that he was wrong in -this. Of course he would not speak on the measure, and his vote for -his party would probably be allowed to pass without notice. One or -two newspapers might perhaps attack him; but what public man cared -for such attacks as those? His whole party would hang by him, and in -that he would find ample consolation. Phineas could only say that he -would think of it;--and this he said in so irresolute a tone of voice -that all the men then present believed that he was gained. The two -ladies, however, were of a different opinion. "In spite of anything -that anybody may say, he will do what he thinks right when the time -comes," said Laura to her father afterwards. But then Lady Laura had -been in love with him,--was perhaps almost in love with him still. -"I'm afraid he is a mule," said Lady Cantrip to her husband. "He's -a good mule up a hill with a load on his back," said his lordship. -"But with a mule there always comes a time when you can't manage -him," said Lady Cantrip. But Lady Cantrip had never been in love with -Phineas. - -Phineas found a moment, before he left Lord Brentford's house, to say -a word to Lady Laura as to the commission that had been given to him. -"It can never be," said Lady Laura, shuddering;--"never, never, -never!" - -"You are not angry with me for speaking?" - -"Oh, no--not if he told you." - -"He made me promise that I would." - -"Tell him it cannot be. Tell him that if he has any instruction to -send me as to what he considers to be my duty, I will endeavour to -comply, if that duty can be done apart. I will recognize him so -far, because of my vow. But not even for the sake of my vow, will I -endeavour to live with him. His presence would kill me!" - -When Phineas repeated this, or as much of this as he judged to be -necessary, to Mr. Kennedy a day or two afterwards, that gentleman -replied that in such case he would have no alternative but to seek -redress at law. "I have done nothing to my wife," said he, "of -which I need be ashamed. It will be sad, no doubt, to have all our -affairs bandied about in court, and made the subject of comment in -newspapers, but a man must go through that, or worse than that, in -the vindication of his rights, and for the performance of his duty to -his Maker." That very day Mr. Kennedy went to his lawyer, and desired -that steps might be taken for the restitution to him of his conjugal -rights. - - - - -CHAPTER LXIX - -The Temptress - - -Mr. Monk's bill was read the first time before Easter, and Phineas -Finn still held his office. He had spoken to the Prime Minister -once on the subject, and had been surprised at that gentleman's -courtesy;--for Mr. Gresham had the reputation of being unconciliatory -in his manners, and very prone to resent anything like desertion from -that allegiance which was due to himself as the leader of his party. -"You had better stay where you are and take no step that may be -irretrievable, till you have quite made up your mind," said Mr. -Gresham. - -"I fear I have made up my mind," said Phineas. - -"Nothing can be done till after Easter," replied the great man, "and -there is no knowing how things may go then. I strongly recommend you -to stay with us. If you can do this it will be only necessary that -you shall put your resignation in Lord Cantrip's hands before you -speak or vote against us. See Monk and talk it over with him." Mr. -Gresham possibly imagined that Mr. Monk might be moved to abandon his -bill, when he saw what injury he was about to do. - -At this time Phineas received the following letter from his darling -Mary:-- - - - Floodborough, Thursday. - - DEAREST PHINEAS, - - We have just got home from Killaloe, and mean to remain - here all through the summer. After leaving your sisters - this house seems so desolate; but I shall have the more - time to think of you. I have been reading Tennyson, as you - told me, and I fancy that I could in truth be a Mariana - here, if it were not that I am so quite certain that you - will come;--and that makes all the difference in the world - in a moated grange. Last night I sat at the window and - tried to realise what I should feel if you were to tell me - that you did not want me; and I got myself into such an - ecstatic state of mock melancholy that I cried for half an - hour. But when one has such a real living joy at the back - of one's romantic melancholy, tears are very pleasant;-- - they water and do not burn. - - I must tell you about them all at Killaloe. They certainly - are very unhappy at the idea of your resigning. Your - father says very little, but I made him own that to act - as you are acting for the sake of principle is very grand. - I would not leave him till he had said so, and he did say - it. Dear Mrs. Finn does not understand it as well, but - she will do so. She complains mostly for my sake, and - when I tell her that I will wait twenty years if it is - necessary, she tells me I do not know what waiting means. - But I will,--and will be happy, and will never really - think myself a Mariana. Dear, dear, dear Phineas, indeed - I won't. The girls are half sad and half proud. But I am - wholly proud, and know that you are doing just what you - ought to do. I shall think more of you as a man who might - have been a Prime Minister than if you were really sitting - in the Cabinet like Lord Cantrip. As for mamma, I cannot - make her quite understand it. She merely says that no - young man who is going to be married ought to resign - anything. Dear mamma;--sometimes she does say such odd - things. - - You told me to tell you everything, and so I have. I - talk to some of the people here, and tell them what they - might do if they had tenant-right. One old fellow, Mike - Dufferty,--I don't know whether you remember him,--asked - if he would have to pay the rent all the same. When I said - certainly he would, then he shook his head. But as you - said once, when we want to do good to people one has no - right to expect that they should understand it. It is like - baptizing little infants. - - I got both your notes;--seven words in one, Mr. - Under-Secretary, and nine in the other! But the one little - word at the end was worth a whole sheet full of common - words. How nice it is to write letters without paying - postage, and to send them about the world with a grand - name in the corner. When Barney brings me one he always - looks as if he didn't know whether it was a love letter - or an order to go to Botany Bay. If he saw the inside of - them, how short they are, I don't think he'd think much of - you as a lover nor yet as an Under-Secretary. - - But I think ever so much of you as both;--I do, indeed; - and I am not scolding you a bit. As long as I can have two - or three dear, sweet, loving words, I shall be as happy as - a queen. Ah, if you knew it all! But you never can know - it all. A man has so many other things to learn that he - cannot understand it. - - Good-bye, dear, dear, dearest man. Whatever you do I shall - be quite sure you have done the best. - - Ever your own, with all the love of her heart, - - MARY F. JONES. - - -This was very nice. Such a man as was Phineas Finn always takes a -delight which he cannot express even to himself in the receipt of -such a letter as this. There is nothing so flattering as the warm -expression of the confidence of a woman's love, and Phineas thought -that no woman ever expressed this more completely than did his Mary. -Dear, dearest Mary. As for giving her up, as for treachery to one so -trusting, so sweet, so well beloved, that was out of the question. -But nevertheless the truth came home to him more clearly day by day, -that he of all men was the last who ought to have given himself up to -such a passion. For her sake he ought to have abstained. So he told -himself now. For her sake he ought to have kept aloof from her;--and -for his own sake he ought to have kept aloof from Mr. Monk. That very -day, with Mary's letter in his pocket, he went to the livery stables -and explained that he would not keep his horse any longer. There was -no difficulty about the horse. Mr. Howard Macleod of the Treasury -would take him from that very hour. Phineas, as he walked away, -uttered a curse upon Mr. Howard Macleod. Mr. Howard Macleod was just -beginning the glory of his life in London, and he, Phineas Finn, was -bringing his to an end. - -With Mary's letter in his pocket he went up to Portman Square. He had -again got into the habit of seeing Lady Laura frequently, and was -often with her brother, who now again lived at his father's house. -A letter had reached Lord Brentford, through his lawyer, in which a -demand was made by Mr. Kennedy for the return of his wife. She was -quite determined that she would never go back to him; and there had -come to her a doubt whether it would not be expedient that she should -live abroad so as to be out of the way of persecution from her -husband. Lord Brentford was in great wrath, and Lord Chiltern had -once or twice hinted that perhaps he had better "see" Mr. Kennedy. -The amenities of such an interview, as this would be, had up to the -present day been postponed; and, in a certain way, Phineas had been -used as a messenger between Mr. Kennedy and his wife's family. - -"I think it will end," she said, "in my going to Dresden, and -settling myself there. Papa will come to me when Parliament is not -sitting." - -"It will be very dull." - -"Dull! What does dulness amount to when one has come to such a pass -as this? When one is in the ruck of fortune, to be dull is very bad; -but when misfortune comes, simple dulness is nothing. It sounds -almost like relief." - -"It is so hard that you should be driven away." She did not answer -him for a while, and he was beginning to think of his own case also. -Was it not hard that he too should be driven away? "It is odd enough -that we should both be going at the same time." - -"But you will not go?" - -"I think I shall. I have resolved upon this,--that if I give up my -place, I will give up my seat too. I went into Parliament with the -hope of office, and how can I remain there when I shall have gained -it and then have lost it?" - -"But you will stay in London, Mr. Finn?" - -"I think not. After all that has come and gone I should not be happy -here, and I should make my way easier and on cheaper terms in Dublin. -My present idea is that I shall endeavour to make a practice over in -my own country. It will be hard work beginning at the bottom;--will -it not?" - -"And so unnecessary." - -"Ah, Lady Laura,--if it only could be avoided! But it is of no use -going through all that again." - -"How much we would both of us avoid if we could only have another -chance!" said Lady Laura. "If I could only be as I was before I -persuaded myself to marry a man whom I never loved, what a paradise -the earth would be to me! With me all regrets are too late." - -"And with me as much so." - -"No, Mr. Finn. Even should you resign your office, there is no reason -why you should give up your seat." - -"Simply that I have no income to maintain me in London." - -She was silent for a few moments, during which she changed her seat -so as to come nearer to him, placing herself on a corner of a sofa -close to the chair on which he was seated. "I wonder whether I may -speak to you plainly," she said. - -"Indeed you may." - -"On any subject?" - -"Yes;--on any subject." - -"I trust you have been able to rid your bosom of all remembrances of -Violet Effingham." - -"Certainly not of all remembrances, Lady Laura." - -"Of all hope, then?" - -"I have no such hope." - -"And of all lingering desires?" - -"Well, yes;--and of all lingering desires. I know now that it cannot -be. Your brother is welcome to her." - -"Ah;--of that I know nothing. He, with his perversity, has estranged -her. But I am sure of this,--that if she do not marry him, she will -marry no one. But it is not on account of him that I speak. He must -fight his own battles now." - -"I shall not interfere with him, Lady Laura." - -"Then why should you not establish yourself by a marriage that will -make place a matter of indifference to you? I know that it is within -your power to do so." Phineas put his hand up to his breastcoat -pocket, and felt that Mary's letter,--her precious letter,--was there -safe. It certainly was not in his power to do this thing which Lady -Laura recommended to him, but he hardly thought that the present was -a moment suitable for explaining to her the nature of the impediment -which stood in the way of such an arrangement. He had so lately -spoken to Lady Laura with an assurance of undying constancy of his -love for Miss Effingham, that he could not as yet acknowledge the -force of another passion. He shook his head by way of reply. "I tell -you that it is so," she said with energy. - -"I am afraid not." - -"Go to Madame Goesler, and ask her. Hear what she will say." - -"Madame Goesler would laugh at me, no doubt." - -"Psha! You do not think so. You know that she would not laugh. And -are you the man to be afraid of a woman's laughter? I think not." - -Again he did not answer her at once, and when he did speak the tone -of his voice was altered. "What was it you said of yourself, just -now?" - -"What did I say of myself?" - -"You regretted that you had consented to marry a man,--whom you did -not love." - -"Why should you not love her? And it is so different with a man! A -woman is wretched if she does not love her husband, but I fancy that -a man gets on very well without any such feeling. She cannot domineer -over you. She cannot expect you to pluck yourself out of your own -soil, and begin a new growth altogether in accordance with the laws -of her own. It was that which Mr. Kennedy did." - -"I do not for a moment think that she would take me, if I were to -offer myself." - -"Try her," said Lady Laura energetically. "Such trials cost you but -little;--we both of us know that!" Still he said nothing of the -letter in his pocket. "It is everything that you should go on now -that you have once begun. I do not believe in you working at the -Bar. You cannot do it. A man who has commenced life as you have done -with the excitement of politics, who has known what it is to take a -prominent part in the control of public affairs, cannot give it up -and be happy at other work. Make her your wife, and you may resign -or remain in office just as you choose. Office will be much easier -to you than it is now, because it will not be a necessity. Let me -at any rate have the pleasure of thinking that one of us can remain -here,--that we need not both fall together." - -Still he did not tell her of the letter in his pocket. He felt that -she moved him,--that she made him acknowledge to himself how great -would be the pity of such a failure as would be his. He was quite as -much alive as she could be to the fact that work at the Bar, either -in London or in Dublin, would have no charms for him now. The -prospect of such a life was very dreary to him. Even with the comfort -of Mary's love such a life would be very dreary to him. And then he -knew,--he thought that he knew,--that were he to offer himself to -Madame Goesler he would not in truth be rejected. She had told him -that if poverty was a trouble to him he need be no longer poor. Of -course he had understood this. Her money was at his service if he -should choose to stoop and pick it up. And it was not only money that -such a marriage would give him. He had acknowledged to himself more -than once that Madame Goesler was very lovely, that she was clever, -attractive in every way, and as far as he could see, blessed with a -sweet temper. She had a position, too, in the world that would help -him rather than mar him. What might he not do with an independent -seat in the House of Commons, and as joint owner of the little house -in Park Lane? Of all careers which the world could offer to a man the -pleasantest would then be within his reach. "You appear to me as a -tempter," he said at last to Lady Laura. - -"It is unkind of you to say that, and ungrateful. I would do anything -on earth in my power to help you." - -"Nevertheless you are a tempter." - -"I know how it ought to have been," she said, in a low voice. "I know -very well how it ought to have been. I should have kept myself free -till that time when we met on the braes of Loughlinter, and then all -would have been well with us." - -"I do not know how that might have been," said Phineas, hoarsely. - -"You do not know! But I know. Of course you have stabbed me with a -thousand daggers when you have told me from time to time of your love -for Violet. You have been very cruel,--needlessly cruel. Men are so -cruel! But for all that I have known that I could have kept you,--had -it not been too late when you spoke to me. Will you not own as much -as that?" - -"Of course you would have been everything to me. I should never have -thought of Violet then." - -"That is the only kind word you have said to me from that day to -this. I try to comfort myself in thinking that it would have been so. -But all that is past and gone, and done. I have had my romance and -you have had yours. As you are a man, it is natural that you should -have been disturbed by a double image;--it is not so with me." - -"And yet you can advise me to offer marriage to a woman,--a woman -whom I am to seek merely because she is rich?" - -"Yes;--I do so advise you. You have had your romance and must now -put up with reality. Why should I so advise you but for the interest -that I have in you? Your prosperity will do me no good. I shall not -even be here to see it. I shall hear of it only as so many a woman -banished out of England hears a distant misunderstood report of what -is going on in the country she has left. But I still have regard -enough,--I will be bold, and, knowing that you will not take it -amiss, will say love enough for you,--to feel a desire that you -should not be shipwrecked. Since we first took you in hand between -us, Barrington and I, I have never swerved in my anxiety on your -behalf. When I resolved that it would be better for us both that we -should be only friends, I did not swerve. When you would talk to me -so cruelly of your love for Violet, I did not swerve. When I warned -you from Loughlinter because I thought there was danger, I did not -swerve. When I bade you not to come to me in London because of my -husband, I did not swerve. When my father was hard upon you, I -did not swerve then. I would not leave him till he was softened. -When you tried to rob Oswald of his love, and I thought you would -succeed,--for I did think so,--I did not swerve. I have ever been -true to you. And now that I must hide myself and go away, and be seen -no more, I am true still." - -"Laura,--dearest Laura!" he exclaimed. - -"Ah, no!" she said, speaking with no touch of anger, but all in -sorrow;--"it must not be like that. There is no room for that. Nor do -you mean it. I do not think so ill of you. But there may not be even -words of affection between us--only such as I may speak to make you -know that I am your friend." - -"You are my friend," he said, stretching out his hand to her as he -turned away his face. "You are my friend, indeed." - -"Then do as I would have you do." - -He put his hand into his pocket, and had the letter between his -fingers with the purport of showing it to her. But at the moment -the thought occurred to him that were he to do so, then, indeed, he -would be bound for ever. He knew that he was bound for ever,--bound -for ever to his own Mary; but he desired to have the privilege of -thinking over such bondage once more before he proclaimed it even to -his dearest friend. He had told her that she tempted him, and she -stood before him now as a temptress. But lest it might be possible -that she should not tempt in vain,--that letter in his pocket must -never be shown to her. In that case Lady Laura must never hear from -his lips the name of Mary Flood Jones. - -He left her without any assured purpose;--without, that is, the -assurance to her of any fixed purpose. There yet wanted a week to the -day on which Mr. Monk's bill was to be read,--or not to be read,--the -second time; and he had still that interval before he need decide. -He went to his club, and before he dined he strove to write a line -to Mary;--but when he had the paper before him he found that it was -impossible to do so. Though he did not even suspect himself of an -intention to be false, the idea that was in his mind made the effort -too much for him. He put the paper away from him and went down and -eat his dinner. - -It was a Saturday, and there was no House in the evening. He had -remained in Portman Square with Lady Laura till near seven o'clock, -and was engaged to go out in the evening to a gathering at Mrs. -Gresham's house. Everybody in London would be there, and Phineas -was resolved that as long as he remained in London he would be seen -at places where everybody was seen. He would certainly be at Mrs. -Gresham's gathering; but there was an hour or two before he need -go home to dress, and as he had nothing to do, he went down to the -smoking-room of his club. The seats were crowded, but there was -one vacant; and before he had looked about him to scrutinise his -neighbourhood, he found that he had placed himself with Bonteen on -his right hand and Ratler on his left. There were no two men in all -London whom he more thoroughly disliked; but it was too late for him -to avoid them now. - -They instantly attacked him, first on one side and then on the other. -"So I am told you are going to leave us," said Bonteen. - -"Who can have been ill-natured enough to whisper such a thing?" -replied Phineas. - -"The whispers are very loud, I can tell you," said Ratler. "I think I -know already pretty nearly how every man in the House will vote, and -I have not got your name down on the right side." - -"Change it for heaven's sake," said Phineas. - -"I will, if you'll tell me seriously that I may," said Ratler. - -"My opinion is," said Bonteen, "that a man should be known either as -a friend or foe. I respect a declared foe." - -"Know me as a declared foe then," said Phineas, "and respect me." - -"That's all very well," said Ratler, "but it means nothing. I've -always had a sort of fear about you, Finn, that you would go over the -traces some day. Of course it's a very grand thing to be -independent." - -"The finest thing in the world," said Bonteen; "only so d----d -useless." - -"But a man shouldn't be independent and stick to the ship at the -same time. You forget the trouble you cause, and how you upset all -calculations." - -"I hadn't thought of the calculations," said Phineas. - -"The fact is, Finn," said Bonteen, "you are made of clay too fine for -office. I've always found it has been so with men from your country. -You are the grandest horses in the world to look at out on a prairie, -but you don't like the slavery of harness." - -"And the sound of a whip over our shoulders sets us kicking;--does it -not, Ratler?" - -"I shall show the list to Gresham to-morrow," said Ratler, "and of -course he can do as he pleases; but I don't understand this kind of -thing." - -"Don't you be in a hurry," said Bonteen. "I'll bet you a sovereign -Finn votes with us yet. There's nothing like being a little coy to -set off a girl's charms. I'll bet you a sovereign, Ratler, that Finn -goes out into the lobby with you and me against Monk's bill." - -Phineas, not being able to stand any more of this most unpleasant -raillery, got up and went away. The club was distasteful to him, and -he walked off and sauntered for a while about the park. He went down -by the Duke of York's column as though he were going to his office, -which of course was closed at this hour, but turned round when he -got beyond the new public buildings,--buildings which he was never -destined to use in their completed state,--and entered the gates of -the enclosure, and wandered on over the bridge across the water. As -he went his mind was full of thought. Could it be good for him to -give up everything for a fair face? He swore to himself that of all -women whom he had ever seen Mary was the sweetest and the dearest and -the best. If it could be well to lose the world for a woman, it would -be well to lose it for her. Violet, with all her skill, and all her -strength, and all her grace, could never have written such a letter -as that which he still held in his pocket. The best charm of a woman -is that she should be soft, and trusting, and generous; and who ever -had been more soft, more trusting, and more generous than his Mary? -Of course he would be true to her, though he did lose the world. - -But to yield such a triumph to the Ratlers and Bonteens whom he left -behind him,--to let them have their will over him,--to know that they -would rejoice scurrilously behind his back over his downfall! The -feeling was terrible to him. The last words which Bonteen had spoken -made it impossible to him now not to support his old friend Mr. Monk. -It was not only what Bonteen had said, but that the words of Mr. -Bonteen so plainly indicated what would be the words of all the other -Bonteens. He knew that he was weak in this. He knew that had he been -strong, he would have allowed himself to be guided,--if not by the -firm decision of his own spirit,--by the counsels of such men as Mr. -Gresham and Lord Cantrip, and not by the sarcasms of the Bonteens and -Ratlers of official life. But men who sojourn amidst savagery fear -the mosquito more than they do the lion. He could not bear to think -that he should yield his blood to such a one as Bonteen. - -And he must yield his blood, unless he could vote for Mr. Monk's -motion, and hold his ground afterwards among them all in the House -of Commons. He would at any rate see the session out, and try a -fall with Mr. Bonteen when they should be sitting on different -benches,--if ever fortune should give him an opportunity. And in the -meantime, what should he do about Madame Goesler? What a fate was his -to have the handsomest woman in London with thousands and thousands -a year at his disposal! For,--so he now swore to himself,--Madame -Goesler was the handsomest woman in London, as Mary Flood Jones was -the sweetest girl in the world. - -He had not arrived at any decision so fixed as to make him -comfortable when he went home and dressed for Mrs. Gresham's party. -And yet he knew,--he thought that he knew that he would be true to -Mary Flood Jones. - - - - -CHAPTER LXX - -The Prime Minister's House - - -The rooms and passages and staircases at Mrs. Gresham's house were -very crowded when Phineas arrived there. Men of all shades of -politics were there, and the wives and daughters of such men; and -there was a streak of royalty in one of the saloons, and a whole -rainbow of foreign ministers with their stars, and two blue ribbons -were to be seen together on the first landing-place, with a stout -lady between them carrying diamonds enough to load a pannier. -Everybody was there. Phineas found that even Lord Chiltern was come, -as he stumbled across his friend on the first foot-ground that he -gained in his ascent towards the rooms. "Halloa,--you here?" said -Phineas. "Yes, by George!" said the other, "but I am going to escape -as soon as possible. I've been trying to make my way up for the last -hour, but could never get round that huge promontory there. Laura was -more persevering." "Is Kennedy here?" Phineas whispered. "I do not -know," said Chiltern, "but she was determined to run the chance." - -A little higher up,--for Phineas was blessed with more patience than -Lord Chiltern possessed,--he came upon Mr. Monk. "So you are still -admitted privately," said Phineas. - -"Oh dear yes,--and we have just been having a most friendly -conversation about you. What a man he is! He knows everything. He -is so accurate; so just in the abstract,--and in the abstract so -generous!" - -"He has been very generous to me in detail as well as in abstract," -said Phineas. - -"Ah, yes; I am not thinking of individuals exactly. His want of -generosity is to large masses,--to a party, to classes, to a people; -whereas his generosity is for mankind at large. He assumes the god, -affects to nod, and seems to shake the spheres. But I have nothing -against him. He has asked me here to-night, and has talked to me most -familiarly about Ireland." - -"What do you think of your chance of a second reading?" asked -Phineas. - -"What do you think of it?--you hear more of those things than I do." - -"Everybody says it will be a close division." - -"I never expected it," said Mr. Monk. - -"Nor I, till I heard what Daubeny said at the first reading. They -will all vote for the bill en masse,--hating it in their hearts all -the time." - -"Let us hope they are not so bad as that." - -"It is the way with them always. They do all our work for -us,--sailing either on one tack or the other. That is their use in -creation, that when we split among ourselves, as we always do, they -come in and finish our job for us. It must be unpleasant for them to -be always doing that which they always say should never be done at -all." - -"Wherever the gift horse may come from, I shall not look it in the -mouth," said Mr. Monk. "There is only one man in the House whom I -hope I may not see in the lobby with me, and that is yourself." - -"The question is decided now," said Phineas. - -"And how is it decided?" - -Phineas could not tell his friend that a question of so great -magnitude to him had been decided by the last sting which he had -received from an insect so contemptible as Mr. Bonteen, but he -expressed the feeling as well as he knew how to express it. "Oh, I -shall be with you. I know what you are going to say, and I know how -good you are. But I could not stand it. Men are beginning already to -say things which almost make me get up and kick them. If I can help -it, I will give occasion to no man to hint anything to me which -can make me be so wretched as I have been to-day. Pray do not say -anything more. My idea is that I shall resign to-morrow." - -"Then I hope that we may fight the battle side by side," said Mr. -Monk, giving him his hand. - -"We will fight the battle side by side," replied Phineas. - -After that he pushed his way still higher up the stairs, having no -special purpose in view, not dreaming of any such success as that -of reaching his host or hostess,--merely feeling that it should be -a point of honour with him to make a tour through the rooms before -he descended the stairs. The thing, he thought, was to be done with -courage and patience, and this might, probably, be the last time in -his life that he would find himself in the house of a Prime Minister. -Just at the turn of the balustrade at the top of the stairs, he found -Mr. Gresham in the very spot on which Mr. Monk had been talking with -him. "Very glad to see you," said Mr. Gresham. "You, I find, are a -persevering man, with a genius for getting upwards." - -"Like the sparks," said Phineas. - -"Not quite so quickly," said Mr. Gresham. - -"But with the same assurance of speedy loss of my little light." - -It did not suit Mr. Gresham to understand this, so he changed the -subject. "Have you seen the news from America?" - -"Yes, I have seen it, but do not believe it," said Phineas. - -"Ah, you have such faith in a combination of British colonies, -properly backed in Downing Street, as to think them strong -against a world in arms. In your place I should hold to the same -doctrine,--hold to it stoutly." - -"And you do now, I hope, Mr. Gresham?" - -"Well,--yes,--I am not down-hearted. But I confess to a feeling that -the world would go on even though we had nothing to say to a single -province in North America. But that is for your private ear. You are -not to whisper that in Downing Street." Then there came up somebody -else, and Phineas went on upon his slow course. He had longed for an -opportunity to tell Mr. Gresham that he could go to Downing Street no -more, but such opportunity had not reached him. - -For a long time he found himself stuck close by the side of Miss -Fitzgibbon,--Miss Aspasia Fitzgibbon,--who had once relieved him from -terrible pecuniary anxiety by paying for him a sum of money which was -due by him on her brother's account. "It's a very nice thing to be -here, but one does get tired of it," said Miss Fitzgibbon. - -"Very tired," said Phineas. - -"Of course it is a part of your duty, Mr. Finn. You are on your -promotion and are bound to be here. When I asked Laurence to come, he -said there was nothing to be got till the cards were shuffled again." - -"They'll be shuffled very soon," said Phineas. - -"Whatever colour comes up, you'll hold trumps, I know," said the -lady. "Some hands always hold trumps." He could not explain to Miss -Fitzgibbon that it would never again be his fate to hold a single -trump in his hand; so he made another fight, and got on a few steps -farther. - -He said a word as he went to half a dozen friends,--as friends went -with him. He was detained for five minutes by Lady Baldock, who was -very gracious and very disagreeable. She told him that Violet was in -the room, but where she did not know. "She is somewhere with Lady -Laura, I believe; and really, Mr. Finn, I do not like it." Lady -Baldock had heard that Phineas had quarrelled with Lord Brentford, -but had not heard of the reconciliation. "Really, I do not like it. I -am told that Mr. Kennedy is in the house, and nobody knows what may -happen." - -"Mr. Kennedy is not likely to say anything." - -"One cannot tell. And when I hear that a woman is separated from her -husband, I always think that she must have been imprudent. It may be -uncharitable, but I think it is most safe so to consider." - -"As far as I have heard the circumstances, Lady Laura was quite -right," said Phineas. - -"It may be so. Gentlemen will always take the lady's part,--of -course. But I should be very sorry to have a daughter separated from -her husband,--very sorry." - -Phineas, who had nothing now to gain from Lady Baldock's favour, left -her abruptly, and went on again. He had a great desire to see Lady -Laura and Violet together, though he could hardly tell himself why. -He had not seen Miss Effingham since his return from Ireland, and he -thought that if he met her alone he could hardly have talked to her -with comfort; but he knew that if he met her with Lady Laura, she -would greet him as a friend, and speak to him as though there were no -cause for embarrassment between them. But he was so far disappointed, -that he suddenly encountered Violet alone. She had been leaning on -the arm of Lord Baldock, and Phineas saw her cousin leave her. But -he would not be such a coward as to avoid her, especially as he knew -that she had seen him. "Oh, Mr. Finn!" she said, "do you see that?" - -"See what?" - -"Look; There is Mr. Kennedy. We had heard that it was possible, and -Laura made me promise that I would not leave her." Phineas turned his -head, and saw Mr. Kennedy standing with his back bolt upright against -a door-post, with his brow as black as thunder. "She is just opposite -to him, where he can see her," said Violet. "Pray take me to her. He -will think nothing of you, because I know that you are still friends -with both of them. I came away because Lord Baldock wanted to -introduce me to Lady Mouser. You know he is going to marry Miss -Mouser." - -Phineas, not caring much about Lord Baldock and Miss Mouser, took -Violet's hand upon his arm, and very slowly made his way across -the room to the spot indicated. There they found Lady Laura alone, -sitting under the upas-tree influence of her husband's gaze. There -was a concourse of people between them, and Mr. Kennedy did not seem -inclined to make any attempt to lessen the distance. But Lady Laura -had found it impossible to move while she was under her husband's -eyes. - -"Mr. Finn," she said, "could you find Oswald? I know he is here." - -"He has gone," said Phineas. "I was speaking to him downstairs." - -"You have not seen my father? He said he would come." - -"I have not seen him, but I will search." - -"No;--it will do no good. I cannot stay. His carriage is there, I -know,--waiting for me." Phineas immediately started off to have the -carriage called, and promised to return with as much celerity as he -could use. As he went, making his way much quicker through the crowd -than he had done when he had no such object for haste, he purposely -avoided the door by which Mr. Kennedy had stood. It would have been -his nearest way, but his present service, he thought, required that -he should keep aloof from the man. But Mr. Kennedy passed through the -door and intercepted him in his path. - -"Is she going?" he asked. - -"Well. Yes. I dare say she may before long. I shall look for Lord -Brentford's carriage by-and-by." - -"Tell her she need not go because of me. I shall not return. I shall -not annoy her here. It would have been much better that a woman in -such a plight should not have come to such an assembly." - -"You would not wish her to shut herself up." - -"I would wish her to come back to the home that she has left, and, if -there be any law in the land, she shall be made to do so. You tell -her that I say so." Then Mr. Kennedy fought his way down the stairs, -and Phineas Finn followed in his wake. - -About half an hour afterwards Phineas returned to the two ladies with -tidings that the carriage would be at hand as soon as they could be -below. "Did he see you?" said Lady Laura. - -"Yes, he followed me." - -"And did he speak to you?" - -"Yes;--he spoke to me." - -"And what did he say?" And then, in the presence of Violet, Phineas -gave the message. He thought it better that it should be given; -and were he to decline to deliver it now, it would never be given. -"Whether there be law in the land to protect me or whether there be -none, I will never live with him," said Lady Laura. "Is a woman like -a head of cattle, that she can be fastened in her crib by force? I -will never live with him though all the judges of the land should -decide that I must do so." - -Phineas thought much of all this as he went to his solitary lodgings. -After all, was not the world much better with him than it was with -either of those two wretched married beings? And why? He had not, -at any rate as yet, sacrificed for money or social gains any of -the instincts of his nature. He had been fickle, foolish, vain, -uncertain, and perhaps covetous;--but as yet he had not been false. -Then he took out Mary's last letter and read it again. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXI - -Comparing Notes - - -It would, perhaps, be difficult to decide,--between Lord Chiltern and -Miss Effingham,--which had been most wrong, or which had been nearest -to the right, in the circumstances which had led to their separation. -The old lord, wishing to induce his son to undertake work of some -sort, and feeling that his own efforts in this direction were worse -than useless, had closeted himself with his intended daughter-in-law, -and had obtained from her a promise that she would use her influence -with her lover. "Of course I think it right that he should do -something," Violet had said. "And he will if you bid him," replied -the Earl. Violet expressed a great doubt as to this willingness of -obedience; but, nevertheless, she promised to do her best, and she -did her best. Lord Chiltern, when she spoke to him, knit his brows -with an apparent ferocity of anger which his countenance frequently -expressed without any intention of ferocity on his part. He was -annoyed, but was not savagely disposed to Violet. As he looked at -her, however, he seemed to be very savagely disposed. "What is it you -would have me do?" he said. - -"I would have you choose some occupation, Oswald." - -"What occupation? What is it that you mean? Ought I to be a -shoemaker?" - -"Not that by preference, I should say; but that if you please." When -her lover had frowned at her, Violet had resolved,--had strongly -determined, with inward assertions of her own rights,--that she would -not be frightened by him. - -"You are talking nonsense, Violet. You know that I cannot be a -shoemaker." - -"You may go into Parliament." - -"I neither can, nor would I if I could. I dislike the life." - -"You might farm." - -"I cannot afford it." - -"You might,--might do anything. You ought to do something. You know -that you ought. You know that your father is right in what he says." - -"That is easily asserted, Violet; but it would, I think, be better -that you should take my part than my father's, if it be that you -intend to be my wife." - -"You know that I intend to be your wife; but would you wish that I -should respect my husband?" - -"And will you not do so if you marry me?" he asked. - -Then Violet looked into his face and saw that the frown was blacker -than ever. The great mark down his forehead was deeper and more -like an ugly wound than she had ever seen it; and his eyes sparkled -with anger; and his face was red as with fiery wrath. If it was so -with him when she was no more than engaged to him, how would it be -when they should be man and wife? At any rate, she would not fear -him,--not now at least. "No, Oswald," she said. "If you resolve upon -being an idle man, I shall not respect you. It is better that I -should tell you the truth." - -"A great deal better," he said. - -"How can I respect one whose whole life will be,--will be--?" - -"Will be what?" he demanded with a loud shout. - -"Oswald, you are very rough with me." - -"What do you say that my life will be?" - -Then she again resolved that she would not fear him. "It will be -discreditable," she said. - -"It shall not discredit you," he replied. "I will not bring disgrace -on one I have loved so well. Violet, after what you have said, we had -better part." She was still proud, still determined, and they did -part. Though it nearly broke her heart to see him leave her, she bid -him go. She hated herself afterwards for her severity to him; but, -nevertheless, she would not submit to recall the words which she -had spoken. She had thought him to be wrong, and, so thinking, had -conceived it to be her duty and her privilege to tell him what she -thought. But she had no wish to lose him;--no wish not to be his wife -even, though he should be as idle as the wind. She was so constituted -that she had never allowed him or any other man to be master of her -heart,--till she had with a full purpose given her heart away. The -day before she had resolved to give it to one man, she might, I -think, have resolved to give it to another. Love had not conquered -her, but had been taken into her service. Nevertheless, she could -not now rid herself of her servant, when she found that his services -would stand her no longer in good stead. She parted from Lord -Chiltern with an assent, with an assured brow, and with much dignity -in her gait; but as soon as she was alone she was a prey to remorse. -She had declared to the man who was to have been her husband that -his life was discreditable,--and, of course, no man would bear such -language. Had Lord Chiltern borne it, he would not have been worthy -of her love. - -She herself told Lady Laura and Lord Brentford what had -occurred,--and had told Lady Baldock also. Lady Baldock had, of -course, triumphed,--and Violet sought her revenge by swearing that -she would regret for ever the loss of so inestimable a gentleman. -"Then why have you given him up, my dear?" demanded Lady Baldock. -"Because I found that he was too good for me," said Violet. It may be -doubtful whether Lady Baldock was not justified, when she declared -that her niece was to her a care so harassing that no aunt known in -history had ever been so troubled before. - -Lord Brentford had fussed and fumed, and had certainly made things -worse. He had quarrelled with his son, and then made it up, and then -quarrelled again,--swearing that the fault must all be attributed to -Chiltern's stubbornness and Chiltern's temper. Latterly, however, by -Lady Laura's intervention, Lord Brentford and his son had again been -reconciled, and the Earl endeavoured manfully to keep his tongue from -disagreeable words, and his face from evil looks, when his son was -present. "They will make it up," Lady Laura had said, "if you and I -do not attempt to make it up for them. If we do, they will never come -together." The Earl was convinced, and did his best. But the task -was very difficult to him. How was he to keep his tongue off his son -while his son was daily saying things of which any father,--any such -father as Lord Brentford,--could not but disapprove? Lord Chiltern -professed to disbelieve even in the wisdom of the House of Lords, and -on one occasion asserted that it must be a great comfort to any Prime -Minister to have three or four old women in the Cabinet. The father, -when he heard this, tried to rebuke his son tenderly, strove even to -be jocose. It was the one wish of his heart that Violet Effingham -should be his daughter-in-law. But even with this wish he found it -very hard to keep his tongue off Lord Chiltern. - -When Lady Laura discussed the matter with Violet, Violet would always -declare that there was no hope. "The truth is," she said on the -morning of that day on which they both went to Mrs. Gresham's, "that -though we like each other,--love each other, if you choose to say -so,--we are not fit to be man and wife." - -"And why not fit?" - -"We are too much alike. Each is too violent, too headstrong, and too -masterful." - -"You, as the woman, ought to give way," said Lady Laura. - -"But we do not always do just what we ought." - -"I know how difficult it is for me to advise, seeing to what a pass I -have brought myself." - -"Do not say that, dear;--or rather do say it, for we have, both of -us, brought ourselves to what you call a pass,--to such a pass that -we are like to be able to live together and discuss it for the rest -of our lives. The difference is, I take it, that you have not to -accuse yourself, and that I have." - -"I cannot say that I have not to accuse myself," said Lady Laura. -"I do not know that I have done much wrong to Mr. Kennedy since I -married him; but in marrying him I did him a grievous wrong." - -"And he has avenged himself." - -"We will not talk of vengeance. I believe he is wretched, and I know -that I am;--and that has come of the wrong that I have done." - -"I will make no man wretched," said Violet. - -"Do you mean that your mind is made up against Oswald?" - -"I mean that, and I mean much more. I say that I will make no man -wretched. Your brother is not the only man who is so weak as to be -willing to run the hazard." - -"There is Lord Fawn." - -"Yes, there is Lord Fawn, certainly. Perhaps I should not do him much -harm; but then I should do him no good." - -"And poor Phineas Finn." - -"Yes;--there is Mr. Finn. I will tell you something, Laura. The only -man I ever saw in the world whom I have thought for a moment that -it was possible that I should like,--like enough to love as my -husband,--except your brother, was Mr. Finn." - -"And now?" - -"Oh;--now; of course that is over," said Violet. - -"It is over?" - -"Quite over. Is he not going to marry Madame Goesler? I suppose -all that is fixed by this time. I hope she will be good to him, -and gracious, and let him have his own way, and give him his tea -comfortably when he comes up tired from the House; for I confess that -my heart is a little tender towards Phineas still. I should not like -to think that he had fallen into the hands of a female Philistine." - -"I do not think he will marry Madame Goesler." - -"Why not?" - -"I can hardly tell you;--but I do not think he will. And you loved -him once,--eh, Violet?" - -"Not quite that, my dear. It has been difficult with me to love. The -difficulty with most girls, I fancy, is not to love. Mr. Finn, when I -came to measure him in my mind, was not small, but he was never quite -tall enough. One feels oneself to be a sort of recruiting sergeant, -going about with a standard of inches. Mr. Finn was just half an inch -too short. He lacks something in individuality. He is a little too -much a friend to everybody." - -"Shall I tell you a secret, Violet?" - -"If you please, dear; though I fancy it is one I know already." - -"He is the only man whom I ever loved," said Lady Laura. - -"But it was too late when you learned to love him," said Violet. - -"It was too late, when I was so sure of it as to wish that I had -never seen Mr. Kennedy. I felt it coming on me, and I argued with -myself that such a marriage would be bad for us both. At that moment -there was trouble in the family, and I had not a shilling of my own." - -"You had paid it for Oswald." - -"At any rate, I had nothing;--and he had nothing. How could I have -dared to think even of such a marriage?" - -"Did he think of it, Laura?" - -"I suppose he did." - -"You know he did. Did you not tell me before?" - -"Well;--yes. He thought of it. I had come to some foolish, -half-sentimental resolution as to friendship, believing that he and I -could be knit together by some adhesion of fraternal affection that -should be void of offence to my husband; and in furtherance of this -he was asked to Loughlinter when I went there, just after I had -accepted Robert. He came down, and I measured him too, as you have -done. I measured him, and I found that he wanted nothing to come up -to the height required by my standard. I think I knew him better than -you did." - -"Very possibly;--but why measure him at all, when such measurement -was useless?" - -"Can one help such things? He came to me one day as I was sitting up -by the Linter. You remember the place, where it makes its first -leap." - -"I remember it very well." - -"So do I. Robert had shown it me as the fairest spot in all -Scotland." - -"And there this lover of ours sang his song to you?" - -"I do not know what he told me then; but I know that I told him that -I was engaged; and I felt when I told him so that my engagement was a -sorrow to me. And it has been a sorrow from that day to this." - -"And the hero, Phineas,--he is still dear to you?" - -"Dear to me?" - -"Yes. You would have hated me, had he become my husband? And you will -hate Madame Goesler when she becomes his wife?" - -"Not in the least. I am no dog in the manger. I have even gone so far -as almost to wish, at certain moments, that you should accept him." - -"And why?" - -"Because he has wished it so heartily." - -"One can hardly forgive a man for such speedy changes," said Violet. - -"Was I not to forgive him;--I, who had turned myself away from him -with a fixed purpose the moment that I found that he had made a mark -upon my heart? I could not wipe off the mark, and yet I married. Was -he not to try to wipe off his mark?" - -"It seems that he wiped it off very quickly;--and since that he has -wiped off another mark. One doesn't know how many marks he has wiped -off. They are like the inn-keeper's score which he makes in chalk. A -damp cloth brings them all away, and leaves nothing behind." - -"What would you have?" - -"There should be a little notch on the stick,--to remember by," said -Violet. "Not that I complain, you know. I cannot complain, as I was -not notched myself." - -"You are silly, Violet." - -"In not having allowed myself to be notched by this great champion?" - -"A man like Mr. Finn has his life to deal with,--to make the most -of it, and to divide it between work, pleasure, duty, ambition, and -the rest of it as best he may. If he have any softness of heart, it -will be necessary to him that love should bear a part in all these -interests. But a man will be a fool who will allow love to be the -master of them all. He will be one whose mind is so ill-balanced -as to allow him to be the victim of a single wish. Even in a woman -passion such as that is evidence of weakness, and not of strength." - -"It seems, then, Laura, that you are weak." - -"And if I am, does that condemn him? He is a man, if I judge him -rightly, who will be constant as the sun, when constancy can be of -service." - -"You mean that the future Mrs. Finn will be secure?" - -"That is what I mean;--and that you or I, had either of us chosen to -take his name, might have been quite secure. We have thought it right -to refuse to do so." - -"And how many more, I wonder?" - -"You are unjust, and unkind, Violet. So unjust and unkind that it is -clear to me he has just gratified your vanity, and has never touched -your heart. What would you have had him do, when I told him that I -was engaged?" - -"I suppose that Mr. Kennedy would not have gone to Blankenberg with -him." - -"Violet!" - -"That seems to be the proper thing to do. But even that does not -adjust things finally;--does it?" Then some one came upon them, and -the conversation was brought to an end. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXII - -Madame Goesler's Generosity - - -When Phineas Finn left Mr. Gresham's house he had quite resolved what -he would do. On the next morning he would tell Lord Cantrip that his -resignation was a necessity, and that he would take that nobleman's -advice as to resigning at once, or waiting till the day on which Mr. -Monk's Irish Bill would be read for the second time. - -"My dear Finn, I can only say that I deeply regret it," said Lord -Cantrip. - -"So do I. I regret to leave office, which I like,--and which indeed -I want. I regret specially to leave this office, as it has been a -thorough pleasure to me; and I regret, above all, to leave you. But -I am convinced that Monk is right, and I find it impossible not to -support him." - -"I wish that Mr. Monk was at Bath," said Lord Cantrip. - -Phineas could only smile, and shrug his shoulders, and say that -even though Mr. Monk were at Bath it would not probably make much -difference. When he tendered his letter of resignation, Lord Cantrip -begged him to withdraw it for a day or two. He would, he said, speak -to Mr. Gresham. The debate on the second reading of Mr. Monk's bill -would not take place till that day week, and the resignation would -be in time if it was tendered before Phineas either spoke or voted -against the Government. So Phineas went back to his room, and -endeavoured to make himself useful in some work appertaining to his -favourite Colonies. - -That conversation had taken place on a Friday, and on the -following Sunday, early in the day, he left his rooms after a late -breakfast,--a prolonged breakfast, during which he had been studying -tenant-right statistics, preparing his own speech, and endeavouring -to look forward into the future which that speech was to do so much -to influence,--and turned his face towards Park Lane. There had been -a certain understanding between him and Madame Goesler that he was -to call in Park Lane on this Sunday morning, and then declare to her -what was his final resolve as to the office which he held. "It is -simply to bid her adieu," he said to himself, "for I shall hardly -see her again." And yet, as he took off his morning easy coat, and -dressed himself for the streets, and stood for a moment before his -looking-glass, and saw that his gloves were fresh and that his boots -were properly polished, I think there was a care about his person -which he would have hardly taken had he been quite assured that he -simply intended to say good-bye to the lady whom he was about to -visit. But if there were any such conscious feeling, he administered -to himself an antidote before he left the house. On returning to the -sitting-room he went to a little desk from which he took out the -letter from Mary which the reader has seen, and carefully perused -every word of it. "She is the best of them all," he said to himself, -as he refolded the letter and put it back into his desk. I am not -sure that it is well that a man should have any large number from -whom to select a best; as, in such circumstances, he is so very apt -to change his judgment from hour to hour. The qualities which are the -most attractive before dinner sometimes become the least so in the -evening. - -The morning was warm, and he took a cab. It would not do that he -should speak even his last farewell to such a one as Madame Goesler -with all the heat and dust of a long walk upon him. Having been so -careful about his boots and gloves he might as well use his care to -the end. Madame Goesler was a very pretty woman, who spared herself -no trouble in making herself as pretty as Nature would allow, on -behalf of those whom she favoured with her smiles; and to such a lady -some special attention was due by one who had received so many of her -smiles as had Phineas. And he felt, too, that there was something -special in this very visit. It was to be made by appointment, and -there had come to be an understanding between them that Phineas -should tell her on this occasion what was his resolution with -reference to his future life. I think that he had been very wise in -fortifying himself with a further glance at our dear Mary's letter, -before he trusted himself within Madame Goesler's door. - -Yes;--Madame Goesler was at home. The door was opened by Madame -Goesler's own maid, who, smiling, explained that the other servants -were all at church. Phineas had become sufficiently intimate at the -cottage in Park Lane to be on friendly terms with Madame Goesler's -own maid, and now made some little half-familiar remark as to the -propriety of his visit during church time. "Madame will not refuse to -see you, I am thinking," said the girl, who was a German. "And she -is alone?" asked Phineas. "Alone? Yes;--of course she is alone. Who -should be with her now?" Then she took him up into the drawing-room; -but, when there, he found that Madame Goesler was absent. "She shall -be down directly," said the girl. "I shall tell her who is here, and -she will come." - -It was a very pretty room. It may almost be said that there could be -no prettier room in all London. It looked out across certain small -private gardens,--which were as bright and gay as money could make -them when brought into competition with London smoke,--right on to -the park. Outside and inside the window, flowers and green things -were so arranged that the room itself almost looked as though it -were a bower in a garden. And everything in that bower was rich and -rare; and there was nothing there which annoyed by its rarity or was -distasteful by its richness. The seats, though they were costly as -money could buy, were meant for sitting, and were comfortable as -seats. There were books for reading, and the means of reading them. -Two or three gems of English art were hung upon the walls, and -could be seen backwards and forwards in the mirrors. And there -were precious toys lying here and there about the room,--toys very -precious, but placed there not because of their price, but because of -their beauty. Phineas already knew enough of the art of living to be -aware that the woman who had made that room what it was, had charms -to add a beauty to everything she touched. What would such a life as -his want, if graced by such a companion,--such a life as his might -be, if the means which were hers were at his command? It would want -one thing, he thought,--the self-respect which he would lose if he -were false to the girl who was trusting him with such sweet trust at -home in Ireland. - -In a very few minutes Madame Goesler was with him, and, though he did -not think about it, he perceived that she was bright in her apparel, -that her hair was as soft as care could make it, and that every charm -belonging to her had been brought into use for his gratification. He -almost told himself that he was there in order that he might ask to -have all those charms bestowed upon himself. He did not know who had -lately come to Park Lane and been a suppliant for the possession of -those rich endowments; but I wonder whether they would have been more -precious in his eyes had he known that they had so moved the heart -of the great Duke as to have induced him to lay his coronet at the -lady's feet. I think that had he known that the lady had refused the -coronet, that knowledge would have enhanced the value of the prize. - -"I am so sorry to have kept you waiting," she said, as she gave him -her hand. "I was an owl not to be ready for you when you told me that -you would come." - -"No;--but a bird of paradise to come to me so sweetly, and at an -hour when all the other birds refuse to show the feather of a single -wing." - -"And you,--you feel like a naughty boy, do you not, in thus coming -out on a Sunday morning?" - -"Do you feel like a naughty girl?" - -"Yes;--just a little so. I do not know that I should care for -everybody to hear that I received visitors,--or worse still, a -visitor,--at this hour on this day. But then it is so pleasant to -feel oneself to be naughty! There is a Bohemian flavour of picnic -about it which, though it does not come up to the rich gusto of -real wickedness, makes one fancy that one is on the border of that -delightful region in which there is none of the constraint of -custom,--where men and women say what they like, and do what they -like." - -"It is pleasant enough to be on the borders," said Phineas. - -"That is just it. Of course decency, morality, and propriety, all -made to suit the eye of the public, are the things which are really -delightful. We all know that, and live accordingly,--as well as we -can. I do at least." - -"And do not I, Madame Goesler?" - -"I know nothing about that, Mr. Finn, and want to ask no questions. -But if you do, I am sure you agree with me that you often envy the -improper people,--the Bohemians,--the people who don't trouble -themselves about keeping any laws except those for breaking which -they would be put into nasty, unpleasant prisons. I envy them. Oh, -how I envy them!" - -"But you are free as air." - -"The most cabined, cribbed, and confined creature in the world! I -have been fighting my way up for the last four years, and have not -allowed myself the liberty of one flirtation;--not often even the -recreation of a natural laugh. And now I shouldn't wonder if I don't -find myself falling back a year or two, just because I have allowed -you to come and see me on a Sunday morning. When I told Lotta that -you were coming, she shook her head at me in dismay. But now that you -are here, tell me what you have done." - -"Nothing as yet, Madame Goesler." - -"I thought it was to have been settled on Friday?" - -"It was settled,--before Friday. Indeed, as I look back at it all -now, I can hardly tell when it was not settled. It is impossible, -and has been impossible, that I should do otherwise. I still hold my -place, Madame Goesler, but I have declared that I shall give it up -before the debate comes on." - -"It is quite fixed?" - -"Quite fixed, my friend." - -"And what next?" Madame Goesler, as she thus interrogated him, was -leaning across towards him from the sofa on which she was placed, -with both her elbows resting on a small table before her. We all know -that look of true interest which the countenance of a real friend -will bear when the welfare of his friend is in question. There are -doubtless some who can assume it without feeling,--as there are -actors who can personate all the passions. But in ordinary life we -think that we can trust such a face, and that we know the true look -when we see it. Phineas, as he gazed into Madame Goesler's eyes, was -sure that the lady opposite him was not acting. She at least was -anxious for his welfare, and was making his cares her own. "What -next?" said she, repeating her words in a tone that was somewhat -hurried. - -"I do not know that there will be any next. As far as public life is -concerned, there will be no next for me, Madame Goesler." - -"That is out of the question," she said. "You are made for public -life." - -"Then I shall be untrue to my making, I fear. But to speak plainly--" - -"Yes; speak plainly. I want to understand the reality." - -"The reality is this. I shall keep my seat to the end of the session, -as I think I may be of use. After that I shall give it up." - -"Resign that too?" she said in a tone of chagrin. - -"The chances are, I think, that there will be another dissolution. If -they hold their own against Mr. Monk's motion, then they will pass an -Irish Reform Bill. After that I think they must dissolve." - -"And you will not come forward again?" - -"I cannot afford it." - -"Psha! Some five hundred pounds or so!" - -"And, besides that, I am well aware that my only chance at my old -profession is to give up all idea of Parliament. The two things are -not compatible for a beginner at the law. I know it now, and have -bought my knowledge by a bitter experience." - -"And where will you live?" - -"In Dublin, probably." - -"And you will do,--will do what?" - -"Anything honest in a barrister's way that may be brought to me. I -hope that I may never descend below that." - -"You will stand up for all the blackguards, and try to make out that -the thieves did not steal?" - -"It may be that that sort of work may come in my way." - -"And you will wear a wig and try to look wise?" - -"The wig is not universal in Ireland, Madame Goesler." - -"And you will wrangle, as though your very soul were in it, for -somebody's twenty pounds?" - -"Exactly." - -"You have already made a name in the greatest senate in the world, -and have governed other countries larger than your own--" - -"No;--I have not done that. I have governed no country. - -"I tell you, my friend, that you cannot do it. It is out of the -question. Men may move forward from little work to big work; but they -cannot move back and do little work, when they have had tasks which -were really great. I tell you, Mr. Finn, that the House of Parliament -is the place for you to work in. It is the only place;--that and the -abodes of Ministers. Am not I your friend who tell you this?" - -"I know that you are my friend." - -"And will you not credit me when I tell you this? What do you fear, -that you should run away? You have no wife;--no children. What is the -coming misfortune that you dread?" She paused a moment as though for -an answer, and he felt that now had come the time in which it would -be well that he should tell her of his engagement with his own Mary. -She had received him very playfully; but now within the last few -minutes there had come upon her a seriousness of gesture, and almost -a solemnity of tone, which made him conscious that he should in no -way trifle with her. She was so earnest in her friendship that he -owed it to her to tell her everything. But before he could think of -the words in which his tale should be told, she had gone on with her -quick questions. "Is it solely about money that you fear?" she said. - -"It is simply that I have no income on which to live." - -"Have I not offered you money?" - -"But, Madame Goesler, you who offer it would yourself despise me if I -took it." - -"No;--I do deny it." As she said this,--not loudly but with much -emphasis,--she came and stood before him where he was sitting. And as -he looked at her he could perceive that there was a strength about -her of which he had not been aware. She was stronger, larger, more -robust physically than he had hitherto conceived. "I do deny it," she -said. "Money is neither god nor devil, that it should make one noble -and another vile. It is an accident, and, if honestly possessed, may -pass from you to me, or from me to you, without a stain. You may -take my dinner from me if I give it you, my flowers, my friendship, -my,--my,--my everything, but my money! Explain to me the cause of the -phenomenon. If I give to you a thousand pounds, now this moment, and -you take it, you are base;--but if I leave it you in my will,--and -die,--you take it, and are not base. Explain to me the cause of -that." - -"You have not said it quite all," said Phineas hoarsely. - -"What have I left unsaid? If I have left anything unsaid, do you say -the rest." - -"It is because you are a woman, and young, and beautiful, that no man -may take wealth from your hands." - -"Oh, it is that!" - -"It is that partly," - -"If I were a man you might take it, though I were young and beautiful -as the morning?" - -"No;--presents of money are always bad. They stain and load the -spirit, and break the heart." - -"And specially when given by a woman's hand?" - -"It seems so to me. But I cannot argue of it. Do not let us talk of -it any more." - -"Nor can I argue. I cannot argue, but I can be generous,--very -generous. I can deny myself for my friend,--can even lower myself in -my own esteem for my friend. I can do more than a man can do for a -friend. You will not take money from my hand?" - -"No, Madame Goesler;--I cannot do that." - -"Take the hand then first. When it and all that it holds are your -own, you can help yourself as you list." So saying, she stood before -him with her right hand stretched out towards him. - -What man will say that he would not have been tempted? Or what woman -will declare that such temptation should have had no force? The very -air of the room in which she dwelt was sweet in his nostrils, and -there hovered around her an halo of grace and beauty which greeted -all his senses. She invited him to join his lot to hers, in order -that she might give to him all that was needed to make his life rich -and glorious. How would the Ratlers and the Bonteens envy him when -they heard of the prize which had become his! The Cantrips and the -Greshams would feel that he was a friend doubly valuable, if he could -be won back; and Mr. Monk would greet him as a fitting ally,--an ally -strong with the strength which he had before wanted. With whom would -he not be equal? Whom need he fear? Who would not praise him? The -story of his poor Mary would be known only in a small village, out -beyond the Channel. The temptation certainly was very strong. - -But he had not a moment in which to doubt. She was standing there -with her face turned from him, but with her hand still stretched -towards him. Of course he took it. What man so placed could do other -than take a woman's hand? - -"My friend," he said. - -"I will be called friend by you no more," she said. "You must call me -Marie, your own Marie, or you must never call me by any name again. -Which shall it be, sir?" He paused a moment, holding her hand, and -she let it lie there for an instant while she listened. But still she -did not look at him. "Speak to me! Tell me! Which shall it be?" Still -he paused. "Speak to me. Tell me!" she said again. - -"It cannot be as you have hinted to me," he said at last. His words -did not come louder than a low whisper; but they were plainly heard, -and instantly the hand was withdrawn. - -"Cannot be!" she exclaimed. "Then I have betrayed myself." - -"No;--Madame Goesler." - -"Sir; I say yes! If you will allow me I will leave you. You will, I -know, excuse me if I am abrupt to you." Then she strode out of the -room, and was no more seen of the eyes of Phineas Finn. - -He never afterwards knew how he escaped out of that room and found -his way into Park Lane. In after days he had some memory that he -remained there, he knew not how long, standing on the very spot on -which she had left him; and that at last there grew upon him almost a -fear of moving, a dread lest he should be heard, an inordinate desire -to escape without the sound of a footfall, without the clicking of -a lock. Everything in that house had been offered to him. He had -refused it all, and then felt that of all human beings under the -sun none had so little right to be standing there as he. His very -presence in that drawing-room was an insult to the woman whom he had -driven from it. - -But at length he was in the street, and had found his way across -Piccadilly into the Green Park. Then, as soon as he could find a spot -apart from the Sunday world, he threw himself upon the turf; and -tried to fix his thoughts upon the thing that he had done. His first -feeling, I think, was one of pure and unmixed disappointment;--of -disappointment so bitter, that even the vision of his own Mary did -not tend to comfort him. How great might have been his success, and -how terrible was his failure! Had he taken the woman's hand and her -money, had he clenched his grasp on the great prize offered to him, -his misery would have been ten times worse the first moment that he -would have been away from her. Then, indeed,--it being so that he -was a man with a heart within his breast,--there would have been no -comfort for him, in his outlooks on any side. But even now, when he -had done right,--knowing well that he had done right,--he found that -comfort did not come readily within his reach. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIII - -Amantium Irae - - -Miss Effingham's life at this time was not the happiest in the world. -Her lines, as she once said to her friend Lady Laura, were not -laid for her in pleasant places. Her residence was still with her -aunt, and she had come to find that it was almost impossible any -longer to endure Lady Baldock, and quite impossible to escape from -Lady Baldock. In former days she had had a dream that she might -escape, and live alone if she chose to be alone; that she might be -independent in her life, as a man is independent, if she chose to -live after that fashion; that she might take her own fortune in her -own hand, as the law certainly allowed her to do, and act with it as -she might please. But latterly she had learned to understand that all -this was not possible for her. Though one law allowed it, another law -disallowed it, and the latter law was at least as powerful as the -former. And then her present misery was enhanced by the fact that -she was now banished from the second home which she had formerly -possessed. Hitherto she had always been able to escape from Lady -Baldock to the house of her friend, but now such escape was out of -the question. Lady Laura and Lord Chiltern lived in the same house, -and Violet could not live with them. - -Lady Baldock understood all this, and tortured her niece accordingly. -It was not premeditated torture. The aunt did not mean to make her -niece's life a burden to her, and, so intending, systematically work -upon a principle to that effect. Lady Baldock, no doubt, desired -to do her duty conscientiously. But the result was torture to poor -Violet, and a strong conviction on the mind of each of the two ladies -that the other was the most unreasonable being in the world. - -The aunt, in these days, had taken it into her head to talk of poor -Lord Chiltern. This arose partly from a belief that the quarrel was -final, and that, therefore, there would be no danger in aggravating -Violet by this expression of pity,--partly from a feeling that it -would be better that her niece should marry Lord Chiltern than that -she should not marry at all,--and partly, perhaps, from the general -principle that, as she thought it right to scold her niece on all -occasions, this might be best done by taking an opposite view of -all questions to that taken by the niece to be scolded. Violet was -supposed to regard Lord Chiltern as having sinned against her, and -therefore Lady Baldock talked of "poor Lord Chiltern." As to the -other lovers, she had begun to perceive that their conditions were -hopeless. Her daughter Augusta had explained to her that there was -no chance remaining either for Phineas, or for Lord Fawn, or for Mr. -Appledom. "I believe she will be an old maid, on purpose to bring me -to my grave," said Lady Baldock. When, therefore, Lady Baldock was -told one day that Lord Chiltern was in the house, and was asking to -see Miss Effingham, she did not at once faint away, and declare that -they would all be murdered,--as she would have done some months -since. She was perplexed by a double duty. If it were possible that -Violet should relent and be reconciled, then it would be her duty to -save Violet from the claws of the wild beast. But if there was no -such chance, then it would be her duty to poor Lord Chiltern to see -that he was not treated with contumely and ill-humour. - -"Does she know that he is here?" Lady Baldock asked her daughter. - -"Not yet, mamma." - -"Oh dear, oh dear! I suppose she ought to see him. She has given him -so much encouragement!" - -"I suppose she will do as she pleases, mamma." - -"Augusta, how can you talk in that way? Am I to have no control in my -own house?" It was, however, soon apparent to her that in this matter -she was to have no control. - -"Lord Chiltern is down-stairs," said Violet, coming into the room -abruptly. - -"So Augusta tells me. Sit down, my dear." - -"I cannot sit down, aunt,--not just now. I have sent down to say that -I would be with him in a minute. He is the most impatient soul alive, -and I must not keep him waiting." - -"And you mean to see him?" - -"Certainly I shall see him," said Violet, as she left the room. - -"I wonder that any woman should ever take upon herself the charge of -a niece!" said Lady Baldock to her daughter in a despondent tone, as -she held up her hands in dismay. In the meantime, Violet had gone -down-stairs with a quick step, and had then boldly entered the room -in which her lover was waiting to receive her. - -"I have to thank you for coming to me, Violet," said Lord Chiltern. -There was still in his face something of savagery,--an expression -partly of anger and partly of resolution to tame the thing with which -he was angry. Violet did not regard the anger half so keenly as she -did that resolution of taming. An angry lord, she thought, she could -endure, but she could not bear the idea of being tamed by any one. - -"Why should I not come?" she said. "Of course I came when I was told -that you were here. I do not think that there need be a quarrel -between us, because we have changed our minds." - -"Such changes make quarrels," said he. - -"It shall not do so with me, unless you choose that it shall," said -Violet. "Why should we be enemies,--we who have known each other -since we were children? My dearest friends are your father and your -sister. Why should we be enemies?" - -"I have come to ask you whether you think that I have ill-used you?" - -"Ill-used me! Certainly not. Has any one told you that I have accused -you?" - -"No one has told me so." - -"Then why do you ask me?" - -"Because I would not have you think so,--if I could help it. I did -not intend to be rough with you. When you told me that my life was -disreputable--" - -"Oh, Oswald, do not let us go back to that. What good will it do?" - -"But you said so." - -"I think not." - -"I believe that that was your word,--the harshest word that you could -use in all the language." - -"I did not mean to be harsh. If I used it, I will beg your pardon. -Only let there be an end of it. As we think so differently about life -in general, it was better that we should not be married. But that -is settled, and why should we go back to words that were spoken in -haste, and which are simply disagreeable?" - -"I have come to know whether it is settled." - -"Certainly. You settled it yourself, Oswald. I told you what I -thought myself bound to tell you. Perhaps I used language which I -should not have used. Then you told me that I could not be your -wife;--and I thought you were right, quite right." - -"I was wrong, quite wrong," he said impetuously. "So wrong, that I -can never forgive myself, if you do not relent. I was such a fool, -that I cannot forgive myself my folly. I had known before that I -could not live without you; and when you were mine, I threw you away -for an angry word." - -"It was not an angry word," she said. - -"Say it again, and let me have another chance to answer it." - -"I think I said that idleness was not,--respectable, or something -like that, taken out of a copy-book probably. But you are a man who -do not like rebukes, even out of copy-books. A man so thin-skinned -as you are must choose for himself a wife with a softer tongue than -mine." - -"I will choose none other!" he said. But still he was savage in his -tone and in his gestures. "I made my choice long since, as you know -well enough. I do not change easily. I cannot change in this. Violet, -say that you will be my wife once more, and I will swear to work for -you like a coal-heaver." - -"My wish is that my husband,--should I ever have one,--should work, -not exactly as a coal-heaver." - -"Come, Violet," he said,--and now the look of savagery departed from -him, and there came a smile over his face, which, however, had in it -more of sadness than of hope or joy,--"treat me fairly,--or rather, -treat me generously if you can. I do not know whether you ever loved -me much." - -"Very much,--years ago, when you were a boy." - -"But not since? If it be so, I had better go. Love on one side only -is a poor affair at best." - -"A very poor affair." - -"It is better to bear anything than to try and make out life with -that. Some of you women never want to love any one." - -"That was what I was saying of myself to Laura but the other day. -With some women it is so easy. With others it is so difficult, that -perhaps it never comes to them." - -"And with you?" - -"Oh, with me--. But it is better in these matters to confine -oneself to generalities. If you please, I will not describe myself -personally. Were I to do so, doubtless I should do it falsely." - -"You love no one else, Violet?" - -"That is my affair, my lord." - -"By heavens, and it is mine too. Tell me that you do, and I will -go away and leave you at once. I will not ask his name, and I will -trouble you no more. If it is not so, and if it is possible that you -should forgive me--" - -"Forgive you! When have I been angry with you?" - -"Answer me my question, Violet." - -"I will not answer you your question,--not that one." - -"What question will you answer?" - -"Any that may concern yourself and myself. None that may concern -other people." - -"You told me once that you loved me." - -"This moment I told you that I did so,--years ago." - -"But now?" - -"That is another matter." - -"Violet, do you love me now?" - -"That is a point-blank question at any rate," she said. - -"And you will answer it?" - -"I must answer it,--I suppose." - -"Well, then?" - -"Oh, Oswald, what a fool you are! Love you! of course I love you. -If you can understand anything, you ought to know that I have never -loved any one else;--that after what has passed between us, I never -shall love any one else. I do love you. There. Whether you throw me -away from you, as you did the other day,--with great scorn, mind -you,--or come to me with sweet, beautiful promises, as you do now, I -shall love you all the same. I cannot be your wife, if you will not -have me; can I? When you run away in your tantrums because I quote -something out of the copy-book, I can't run after you. It would not -be pretty. But as for loving you, if you doubt that, I tell you, you -are a--fool." As she spoke the last words she pouted out her lips at -him, and when he looked into her face he saw that her eyes were full -of tears. He was standing now with his arm round her waist, so that -it was not easy for him to look into her face. - -"I am a fool," he said. - -"Yes;--you are; but I don't love you the less on that account." - -"I will never doubt it again." - -"No;--do not; and, for me, I will not say another word, whether you -choose to heave coals or not. You shall do as you please. I meant to -be very wise;--I did indeed." - -"You are the grandest girl that ever was made." - -"I do not want to be grand at all, and I never will be wise any more. -Only do not frown at me and look savage." Then she put up her hand -to smooth his brow. "I am half afraid of you still, you know. There. -That will do. Now let me go, that I may tell my aunt. During the last -two months she has been full of pity for poor Lord Chiltern." - -"It has been poor Lord Chiltern with a vengeance!" said he. - -"But now that we have made it up, she will be horrified again at all -your wickednesses. You have been a turtle dove lately;--now you will -be an ogre again. But, Oswald, you must not be an ogre to me." - -As soon as she could get quit of her lover, she did tell her tale to -Lady Baldock. "You have accepted him again!" said her aunt, holding -up her hands. "Yes,--I have accepted him again," replied Violet. -"Then the responsibility must be on your own shoulders," said her -aunt; "I wash my hands of it." That evening, when she discussed the -matter with her daughter, Lady Baldock spoke of Violet and Lord -Chiltern, as though their intended marriage were the one thing in the -world which she most deplored. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXIV - -The Beginning of the End - - -The day of the debate had come, and Phineas Finn was still sitting in -his room at the Colonial Office. But his resignation had been sent in -and accepted, and he was simply awaiting the coming of his successor. -About noon his successor came, and he had the gratification of -resigning his arm-chair to Mr. Bonteen. It is generally understood -that gentlemen leaving offices give up either seals or a portfolio. -Phineas had been put in possession of no seal and no portfolio; but -there was in the room which he had occupied a special arm-chair, and -this with much regret he surrendered to the use and comfort of Mr. -Bonteen. There was a glance of triumph in his enemy's eyes, and an -exultation in the tone of his enemy's voice, which were very bitter -to him. "So you are really going?" said Mr. Bonteen. "Well; I dare -say it is all very proper. I don't quite understand the thing myself, -but I have no doubt you are right." "It isn't easy to understand; is -it?" said Phineas, trying to laugh. But Mr. Bonteen did not feel the -intended satire, and poor Phineas found it useless to attempt to -punish the man he hated. He left him as quickly as he could, and went -to say a few words of farewell to his late chief. - -"Good-bye, Finn," said Lord Cantrip. "It is a great trouble to me -that we should have to part in this way." - -"And to me also, my lord. I wish it could have been avoided." - -"You should not have gone to Ireland with so dangerous a man as Mr. -Monk. But it is too late to think of that now." - -"The milk is spilt; is it not?" - -"But these terrible rendings asunder never last very long," said -Lord Cantrip, "unless a man changes his opinions altogether. How -many quarrels and how many reconciliations we have lived to see! I -remember when Gresham went out of office, because he could not sit -in the same room with Mr. Mildmay, and yet they became the fastest -of political friends. There was a time when Plinlimmon and the Duke -could not stable their horses together at all; and don't you remember -when Palliser was obliged to give up his hopes of office because he -had some bee in his bonnet?" I think, however, that the bee in Mr. -Palliser's bonnet to which Lord Cantrip was alluding made its buzzing -audible on some subject that was not exactly political. "We shall -have you back again before long, I don't doubt. Men who can really do -their work are too rare to be left long in the comfort of the benches -below the gangway." This was very kindly said, and Phineas was -flattered and comforted. He could not, however, make Lord Cantrip -understand the whole truth. For him the dream of a life of politics -was over for ever. He had tried it, and had succeeded beyond his -utmost hopes; but, in spite of his success, the ground had crumbled -to pieces beneath his feet, and he knew that he could never recover -the niche in the world's gallery which he was now leaving. - -That same afternoon he met Mr. Gresham in one of the passages leading -to the House, and the Prime Minister put his arm through that of our -hero as they walked together into the lobby. "I am sorry that we are -losing you," said Mr. Gresham. - -"You may be sure that I am sorry to be so lost," said Phineas. - -"These things will occur in political life," said the leader; "but -I think that they seldom leave rancour behind them when the purpose -is declared, and when the subject of disagreement is marked and -understood. The defalcation which creates angry feeling is that which -has to be endured without previous warning,--when a man votes against -his party,--or a set of men, from private pique or from some cause -which is never clear." Phineas, when he heard this, knew well how -terribly this very man had been harassed, and driven nearly wild, -by defalcation, exactly of that nature which he was attempting to -describe. "No doubt you and Mr. Monk think you are right," continued -Mr. Gresham. - -"We have given strong evidence that we think so," said Phineas. "We -give up our places, and we are, both of us, very poor men." - -"I think you are wrong, you know, not so much in your views on the -question itself--which, to tell the truth, I hardly understand as -yet." - -"We will endeavour to explain them." - -"And will do so very clearly, no doubt. But I think that Mr. Monk was -wrong in desiring, as a member of a Government, to force a measure -which, whether good or bad, the Government as a body does not desire -to initiate,--at any rate, just now." - -"And therefore he resigned," said Phineas. - -"Of course. But it seems to me that he failed to comprehend the only -way in which a great party can act together, if it is to do any -service in this country. Don't for a moment think that I am blaming -him or you." - -"I am nobody in this matter," said Phineas. - -"I can assure you, Mr. Finn, that we have not regarded you in that -light, and I hope that the time may come when we may be sitting -together again on the same bench." - -Neither on the Treasury bench nor on any other in that House was -he to sit again after this fashion! That was the trouble which was -crushing his spirit at this moment, and not the loss of his office! -He knew that he could not venture to think of remaining in London -as a member of Parliament with no other income than that which his -father could allow him, even if he could again secure a seat in -Parliament. When he had first been returned for Loughshane he had -assured his friends that his duty as a member of the House of Commons -would not be a bar to his practice in the Courts. He had now been -five years a member, and had never once made an attempt at doing any -part of a barrister's work. He had gone altogether into a different -line of life, and had been most successful;--so successful that men -told him, and women more frequently than men, that his career had -been a miracle of success. But there had been, as he had well known -from the first, this drawback in the new profession which he had -chosen, that nothing in it could be permanent. They who succeed in -it, may probably succeed again; but then the success is intermittent, -and there may be years of hard work in opposition, to which, -unfortunately, no pay is assigned. It is almost imperative, as he now -found, that they who devote themselves to such a profession should -be men of fortune. When he had commenced his work,--at the period of -his first return for Loughshane,--he had had no thought of mending -his deficiency in this respect by a rich marriage. Nor had it ever -occurred to him that he would seek a marriage for that purpose. Such -an idea would have been thoroughly distasteful to him. There had been -no stain of premeditated mercenary arrangement upon him at any time. -But circumstances had so fallen out with him, that as he won his -spurs in Parliament, as he became known, and was placed first in one -office and then in another, prospects of love and money together were -opened to him, and he ventured on, leaving Mr. Low and the law behind -him,--because these prospects were so alluring. Then had come Mr. -Monk and Mary Flood Jones,--and everything around him had collapsed. - -Everything around him had collapsed,--with, however, a terrible -temptation to him to inflate his sails again, at the cost of his -truth and his honour. The temptation would have affected him -not at all, had Madame Goesler been ugly, stupid, or personally -disagreeable. But she was, he thought, the most beautiful woman -he had ever seen, the most witty, and in many respects the most -charming. She had offered to give him everything that she had, so to -place him in the world that opposition would be more pleasant to him -than office, to supply every want, and had done so in a manner that -had gratified all his vanity. But he had refused it all, because he -was bound to the girl at Floodborough. My readers will probably say -that he was not a true man unless he could do this without a regret. -When Phineas thought of it all, there were many regrets. - -But there was at the same time a resolve on his part, that if any man -had ever loved the girl he promised to love, he would love Mary Flood -Jones. A thousand times he had told himself that she had not the -spirit of Lady Laura, or the bright wit of Violet Effingham, or the -beauty of Madame Goesler. But Mary had charms of her own that were -more valuable than them all. Was there one among the three who had -trusted him as she trusted him,--or loved him with the same satisfied -devotion? There were regrets, regrets that were heavy on his -heart;--for London, and Parliament, and the clubs, and Downing -Street, had become dear to him. He liked to think of himself as he -rode in the park, and was greeted by all those whose greeting was -the most worth having. There were regrets,--sad regrets. But the -girl whom he loved better than the parks and the clubs,--better even -than Westminster and Downing Street, should never know that they had -existed. - -These thoughts were running through his mind even while he was -listening to Mr. Monk, as he propounded his theory of doing justice -to Ireland. This might probably be the last great debate in which -Phineas would be able to take a part, and he was determined that he -would do his best in it. He did not intend to speak on this day, if, -as was generally supposed, the House would be adjourned before a -division could be obtained. But he would remain on the alert and see -how the thing went. He had come to understand the forms of the place, -and was as well-trained a young member of Parliament as any there. He -had been quick at learning a lesson that is not easily learned, and -knew how things were going, and what were the proper moments for this -question or that form of motion. He could anticipate a count-out, -understood the tone of men's minds, and could read the gestures of -the House. It was very little likely that the debate should be over -to-night. He knew that; and as the present time was the evening of -Tuesday, he resolved at once that he would speak as early as he could -on the following Thursday. What a pity it was, that with one who had -learned so much, all his learning should be in vain! - -At about two o'clock, he himself succeeded in moving the adjournment -of the debate. This he did from a seat below the gangway, to which he -had removed himself from the Treasury bench. Then the House was up, -and he walked home with Mr. Monk. Mr. Monk, since he had been told -positively by Phineas that he had resolved upon resigning his office, -had said nothing more of his sorrow at his friend's resolve, but had -used him as one political friend uses another, telling him all his -thoughts and all his hopes as to this new measure of his, and taking -counsel with him as to the way in which the fight should be fought. -Together they had counted over the list of members, marking these -men as supporters, those as opponents, and another set, now more -important than either, as being doubtful. From day to day those who -had been written down as doubtful were struck off that third list, -and put in either the one or the other of those who were either -supporters or opponents. And their different modes of argument were -settled between these two allied orators, how one should take this -line and the other that. To Mr. Monk this was very pleasant. He was -quite assured now that opposition was more congenial to his spirit, -and more fitting for him than office. There was no doubt to him as -to his future sitting in Parliament, let the result of this contest -be what it might. The work which he was now doing, was the work for -which he had been training himself all his life. While he had been -forced to attend Cabinet Councils from week to week, he had been -depressed. Now he was exultant. Phineas seeing and understanding all -this, said but little to his friend of his own prospects. As long as -this pleasant battle was raging, he could fight in it shoulder to -shoulder with the man he loved. After that there would be a blank. - -"I do not see how we are to fail to have a majority after Daubeny's -speech to-night," said Mr. Monk, as they walked together down -Parliament Street through the bright moonlight. - -"He expressly said that he only spoke for himself," said Phineas. - -"But we know what that means. He is bidding for office, and of course -those who want office with him will vote as he votes. We have already -counted those who would go into office, but they will not carry the -whole party." - -"It will carry enough of them." - -"There are forty or fifty men on his side of the House, and as many -perhaps on ours," said Mr. Monk, "who have no idea of any kind on -any bill, and who simply follow the bell, whether into this lobby -or that. Argument never touches them. They do not even look to the -result of a division on their own interests, as the making of any -calculation would be laborious to them. Their party leader is to them -a Pope whom they do not dream of doubting. I never can quite make up -my mind whether it is good or bad that there should be such men in -Parliament." - -"Men who think much want to speak often," said Phineas. - -"Exactly so,--and of speaking members, God knows that we have enough. -And I suppose that these purblind sheep do have some occult weight -that is salutary. They enable a leader to be a leader, and even in -that way they are useful. We shall get a division on Thursday." - -"I understand that Gresham has consented to that." - -"So Ratler told me. Palliser is to speak, and Barrington Erle. And -they say that Robson is going to make an onslaught specially on me. -We shall get it over by one o'clock." - -"And if we beat them?" asked Phineas. - -"It will depend on the numbers. Everybody who has spoken to me about -it, seems to think that they will dissolve if there be a respectable -majority against them." - -"Of course he will dissolve," said Phineas, speaking of Mr. Gresham; -"what else can he do?" - -"He is very anxious to carry his Irish Reform Bill first, if he can -do so. Good-night, Phineas. I shall not be down to-morrow as there -is nothing to be done. Come to me on Thursday, and we will go to the -House together." - -On the Wednesday Phineas was engaged to dine with Mr. Low. There -was a dinner party in Bedford Square, and Phineas met half-a-dozen -barristers and their wives,--men to whom he had looked up as -successful pundits in the law some five or six years ago, but who -since that time had almost learned to look up to him. And now they -treated him with that courteousness of manner which success in life -always begets. There was a judge there who was very civil to him; and -the judge's wife whom he had taken down to dinner was very gracious -to him. The judge had got his prize in life, and was therefore -personally indifferent to the fate of ministers; but the judge's wife -had a brother who wanted a County Court from Lord De Terrier, and it -was known that Phineas was giving valuable assistance towards the -attainment of this object. "I do think that you and Mr. Monk are so -right," said the judge's wife. Phineas, who understood how it came to -pass that the judge's wife should so cordially approve his conduct, -could not help thinking how grand a thing it would be for him to have -a County Court for himself. - -When the guests were gone he was left alone with Mr. and Mrs. Low, -and remained awhile with them, there having been an understanding -that they should have a last chat together over the affairs of our -hero. "Do you really mean that you will not stand again?" asked Mrs. -Low. - -"I do mean it. I may say that I cannot do so. My father is hardly -so well able to help me as he was when I began this game, and I -certainly shall not ask him for money to support a canvass." - -"It's a thousand pities," said Mrs. Low. - -"I really had begun to think that you would make it answer," said Mr. -Low. - -"In one way I have made it answer. For the last three years I have -lived upon what I have earned, and I am not in debt. But now I must -begin the world again. I am afraid I shall find the drudgery very -hard." - -"It is hard no doubt," said the barrister, who had gone through it -all, and was now reaping the fruits of it. "But I suppose you have -not forgotten what you learned?" - -"Who can say? I dare say I have. But I did not mean the drudgery -of learning, so much as the drudgery of looking after work;--of -expecting briefs which perhaps will never come. I am thirty years old -now, you know." - -"Are you indeed?" said Mrs. Low,--who knew his age to a day. "How the -time passes. I'm sure I hope you'll get on, Mr. Finn. I do indeed." - -"I am sure he will, if he puts his shoulder to it," said Mr. Low. - -Neither the lawyer nor his wife repeated any of those sententious -admonitions, which had almost become rebukes, and which had been -so common in their mouths. The fall with which they had threatened -Phineas Finn had come upon him, and they were too generous to remind -him of their wisdom and sagacity. Indeed, when he got up to take his -leave, Mrs. Low, who probably might not see him again for years, was -quite affectionate in her manners to him, and looked as if she were -almost minded to kiss him as she pressed his hand. "We will come and -see you," she said, "when you are Master of the Rolls in Dublin." - -"We shall see him before then thundering at us poor Tories in the -House," said Mr. Low. "He will be back again sooner or later." And -so they parted. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXV - -P. P. C. - - -On the Thursday morning before Phineas went to Mr. Monk, a gentleman -called upon him at his lodgings. Phineas requested the servant to -bring up the gentleman's name, but tempted perhaps by a shilling the -girl brought up the gentleman instead. It was Mr. Quintus Slide from -the office of the "Banner of the People." - -"Mr. Finn," said Quintus, with his hand extended, "I have come to -offer you the calumet of peace." Phineas certainly desired no such -calumet. But to refuse a man's hand is to declare active war after a -fashion which men do not like to adopt except on deliberation. He had -never cared a straw for the abuse which Mr. Slide had poured upon -him, and now he gave his hand to the man of letters. But he did not -sit down, nor did he offer a seat to Mr. Slide. "I know that as a man -of sense who knows the world, you will accept the calumet of peace," -continued Mr. Slide. - -"I don't know why I should be asked particularly to accept war or -peace," said Phineas. - -"Well, Mr. Finn,--I don't often quote the Bible; but those who are -not for us must be against us. You will agree to that. Now that -you've freed yourself from the iniquities of that sink of abomination -in Downing Street, I look upon you as a man again." - -"Upon my word you are very kind." - -"As a man and also a brother. I suppose you know that I've got the -_Banner_ into my own 'ands now." Phineas was obliged to explain that -he had not hitherto been made acquainted with this great literary -and political secret. "Oh dear, yes, altogether so. We've got rid of -old Rusty as I used to call him. He wouldn't go the pace, and so we -stripped him. He's doing the _West of England Art Journal_ now, and -he 'angs out down at Bristol." - -"I hope he'll succeed, Mr. Slide." - -"He'll earn his wages. He's a man who will always earn his wages, but -nothing more. Well, now, Mr. Finn, I will just offer you one word of -apology for our little severities." - -"Pray do nothing of the kind." - -"Indeed I shall. Dooty is dooty. There was some things printed which -were a little rough, but if one isn't a little rough there ain't no -flavour. Of course I wrote 'em. You know my 'and, I dare say." - -"I only remember that there was some throwing of mud." - -"Just so. But mud don't break any bones; does it? When you turned -against us I had to be down on you, and I was down upon you;--that's -just about all of it. Now you're coming among us again, and so I come -to you with a calumet of peace." - -"But I am not coming among you." - -"Yes you are, Finn, and bringing Monk with you." It was now becoming -very disagreeable, and Phineas was beginning to perceive that it -would soon be his turn to say something rough. "Now I'll tell you -what my proposition is. If you'll do us two leaders a week through -the session, you shall have a cheque for L16 on the last day of every -month. If that's not honester money than what you got in Downing -Street, my name is not Quintus Slide." - -"Mr. Slide," said Phineas,--and then he paused. - -"If we are to come to business, drop the Mister. It makes things go -so much easier." - -"We are not to come to business, and I do not want things to go easy. -I believe you said some things of me in your newspaper that were very -scurrilous." - -"What of that? If you mind that sort of thing--" - -"I did not regard it in the least. You are quite welcome to continue -it. I don't doubt but you will continue it. But you are not welcome -to come here afterwards." - -"Do you mean to turn me out?" - -"Just that. You printed a heap of lies--" - -"Lies, Mr. Finn! Did you say lies, sir?" - -"I said lies;--lies;--lies!" And Phineas walked over at him as though -he were going to pitch him instantly out of the window. "You may go -and write as many more as you like. It is your trade, and you must do -it or starve. But do not come to me again." Then he opened the door -and stood with it in his hand. - -"Very well, sir. I shall know how to punish this." - -"Exactly. But if you please you'll go and do your punishment at the -office of the _Banner_,--unless you like to try it here. You want to -kick me and spit at me, but you will prefer to do it in print." - -"Yes, sir," said Quintus Slide. "I shall prefer to do it in -print,--though I must own that the temptation to adopt the manual -violence of a ruffian is great, very great, very great indeed." But -he resisted the temptation and walked down the stairs, concocting his -article as he went. - -Mr. Quintus Slide did not so much impede the business of his day but -what Phineas was with Mr. Monk by two, and in his place in the House -when prayers were read at four. As he sat in his place, conscious -of the work that was before him, listening to the presentation of -petitions, and to the formal reading of certain notices of motions, -which with the asking of sundry questions occupied over half an -hour, he looked back and remembered accurately his own feelings on -a certain night on which he had intended to get up and address the -House. The ordeal before him had then been so terrible, that it had -almost obliterated for the moment his senses of hearing and of sight. -He had hardly been able to perceive what had been going on around -him, and had vainly endeavoured to occupy himself in recalling to -his memory the words which he wished to pronounce. When the time for -pronouncing them had come, he had found himself unable to stand upon -his legs. He smiled as he recalled all this in his memory, waiting -impatiently for the moment in which he might rise. His audience was -assured to him now, and he did not fear it. His opportunity for -utterance was his own, and even the Speaker could not deprive him of -it. During these minutes he thought not at all of the words that he -was to say. He had prepared his matter but had prepared no words. He -knew that words would come readily enough to him, and that he had -learned the task of turning his thoughts quickly into language while -standing with a crowd of listeners around him,--as a practised writer -does when seated in his chair. There was no violent beating at his -heart now, no dimness of the eyes, no feeling that the ground was -turning round under his feet. If only those weary vain questions -would get themselves all asked, so that he might rise and begin the -work of the night. Then there came the last thought as the House was -hushed for his rising. What was the good of it all, when he would -never have an opportunity of speaking there again? - -But not on that account would he be slack in his endeavour now. -He would be listened to once at least, not as a subaltern of the -Government but as the owner of a voice prominent in opposition to -the Government. He had been taught by Mr. Monk that that was the one -place in the House in which a man with a power of speaking could -really enjoy pleasure without alloy. He would make the trial,--once, -if never again. Things had so gone with him that the rostrum was his -own, and a House crammed to overflowing was there to listen to him. -He had given up his place in order that he might be able to speak his -mind, and had become aware that many intended to listen to him while -he spoke. He had observed that the rows of strangers were thick in -the galleries, that peers were standing in the passages, and that -over the reporter's head, the ribbons of many ladies were to be seen -through the bars of their cage. Yes;--for this once he would have an -audience. - -He spoke for about an hour, and while he was speaking he knew nothing -about himself, whether he was doing it well or ill. Something of -himself he did say soon after he had commenced,--not quite beginning -with it, as though his mind had been laden with the matter. He had, -he said, found himself compelled to renounce his happy allegiance to -the First Lord of the Treasury, and to quit the pleasant company in -which, humble as had been his place, he had been allowed to sit and -act, by his unfortunate conviction in this great subject. He had been -told, he said, that it was a misfortune in itself for one so young as -he to have convictions. But his Irish birth and Irish connection had -brought this misfortune of his country so closely home to him that he -had found the task of extricating himself from it to be impossible. -Of what further he said, speaking on that terribly unintelligible -subject, a tenant-right proposed for Irish farmers, no English reader -will desire to know much. Irish subjects in the House of Commons -are interesting or are dull, are debated before a crowded audience -composed of all who are leaders in the great world of London, or -before empty benches, in accordance with the importance of the moment -and the character of the debate. For us now it is enough to know that -to our hero was accorded that attention which orators love,--which -will almost make an orator if it can be assured. A full House with a -promise of big type on the next morning would wake to eloquence the -propounder of a Canadian grievance, or the mover of an Indian budget. - -Phineas did not stir out of the House till the division was over, -having agreed with Mr. Monk that they two would remain through it -all and hear everything that was to be said. Mr. Gresham had already -spoken, and to Mr. Palliser was confided the task of winding up -the argument for the Government. Mr. Robson spoke also, greatly -enlivening the tedium of the evening, and to Mr. Monk was permitted -the privilege of a final reply. At two o'clock the division came, and -the Ministry were beaten by a majority of twenty-three. "And now," -said Mr. Monk, as he again walked home with Phineas, "the pity is -that we are not a bit nearer tenant-right than we were before." - -"But we are nearer to it." - -"In one sense, yes. Such a debate and such a majority will make men -think. But no;--think is too high a word; as a rule men don't think. -But it will make them believe that there is something in it. Many who -before regarded legislation on the subject as chimerical, will now -fancy that it is only dangerous, or perhaps not more than difficult. -And so in time it will come to be looked on as among the things -possible, then among the things probable;--and so at last it will be -ranged in the list of those few measures which the country requires -as being absolutely needed. That is the way in which public opinion -is made." - -"It is no loss of time," said Phineas, "to have taken the first great -step in making it." - -"The first great step was taken long ago," said Mr. Monk,--"taken -by men who were looked upon as revolutionary demagogues, almost as -traitors, because they took it. But it is a great thing to take any -step that leads us onwards." - -Two days after this Mr. Gresham declared his intention of dissolving -the House because of the adverse division which had been produced by -Mr. Monk's motion, but expressed a wish to be allowed to carry an -Irish Reform Bill through Parliament before he did so. He explained -how expedient this would be, but declared at the same time that if -any strong opposition were made, he would abandon the project. His -intention simply was to pass with regard to Ireland a measure which -must be passed soon, and which ought to be passed before a new -election took place. The bill was ready, and should be read for the -first time on the next night, if the House were willing. The House -was willing, though there were very many recalcitrant Irish members. -The Irish members made loud opposition, and then twitted Mr. Gresham -with his promise that he would not go on with his bill, if opposition -were made. But, nevertheless, he did go on, and the measure was -hurried through the two Houses in a week. Our hero who still sat for -Loughshane, but who was never to sit for Loughshane again, gave what -assistance he could to the Government, and voted for the measure -which deprived Loughshane for ever of its parliamentary honours. - -"And very dirty conduct I think it was," said Lord Tulla, when he -discussed the subject with his agent. "After being put in for the -borough twice, almost free of expense, it was very dirty." It never -occurred to Lord Tulla that a member of Parliament might feel himself -obliged to vote on such a subject in accordance with his judgment. - -This Irish Reform Bill was scrambled through the two Houses, and -then the session was over. The session was over, and they who knew -anything of the private concerns of Mr. Phineas Finn were aware that -he was about to return to Ireland, and did not intend to reappear on -the scene which had known him so well for the last five years. "I -cannot tell you how sad it makes me," said Mr. Monk. - -"And it makes me sad too," said Phineas. "I try to shake off the -melancholy, and tell myself from day to day that it is unmanly. But -it gets the better of me just at present." - -"I feel quite certain that you will come back among us again," said -Mr. Monk. - -"Everybody tells me so; and yet I feel quite certain that I shall -never come back,--never come back with a seat in Parliament. As my -old tutor, Low, has told me scores of times, I began at the wrong -end. Here I am, thirty years of age, and I have not a shilling in the -world, and I do not know how to earn one." - -"Only for me you would still be receiving ever so much a year, and -all would be pleasant," said Mr. Monk. - -"But how long would it have lasted? The first moment that Daubeny got -the upper hand I should have fallen lower than I have fallen now. If -not this year, it would have been the next. My only comfort is in -this,--that I have done the thing myself, and have not been turned -out." To the very last, however, Mr. Monk continued to express his -opinion that Phineas would come back, declaring that he had known no -instance of a young man who had made himself useful in Parliament, -and then had been allowed to leave it in early life. - -Among those of whom he was bound to take a special leave, the members -of the family of Lord Brentford were, of course, the foremost. He -had already heard of the reconciliation of Miss Effingham and Lord -Chiltern, and was anxious to offer his congratulation to both of -them. And it was essential to him that he should see Lady Laura. To -her he wrote a line, saying how much he hoped that he should be able -to bid her adieu, and a time was fixed for his coming at which she -knew that she would meet him alone. But, as chance ruled it, he came -upon the two lovers together, and then remembered that he had hardly -ever before been in the same room with both of them at the same time. - -"Oh, Mr. Finn, what a beautiful speech you made. I read every word of -it," said Violet. - -"And I didn't even look at it, old fellow," said Chiltern, getting up -and putting his arm on the other's shoulder in a way that was common -with him when he was quite intimate with the friend near him. - -"Laura went down and heard it," said Violet. "I could not do that, -because I was tied to my aunt. You can't conceive how dutiful I am -during this last month." - -"And is it to be in a month, Chiltern?" said Phineas. - -"She says so. She arranges everything,--in concert with my father. -When I threw up the sponge, I simply asked for a long day. 'A long -day, my lord,' I said. But my father and Violet between them refused -me any mercy." - -"You do not believe him," said Violet. - -"Not a word. If I did he would want to see me on the coast of -Flanders again, I don't doubt. I have come to congratulate you both." - -"Thank you, Mr. Finn," said Violet, taking his hand with hearty -kindness. "I should not have been quite happy without one nice word -from you." - -"I shall try and make the best of it," said Chiltern. "But, I say, -you'll come over and ride Bonebreaker again. He's down there at -the Bull, and I've taken a little box close by. I can't stand the -governor's county for hunting." - -"And will your wife go down to Willingford?" - -"Of course she will, and ride to hounds a great deal closer than I -can ever do. Mind you come, and if there's anything in the stable fit -to carry you, you shall have it." - -Then Phineas had to explain that he had come to bid them farewell, -and that it was not at all probable that he should ever be able to -see Willingford again in the hunting season. "I don't suppose that I -shall make either of you quite understand it, but I have got to begin -again. The chances are that I shall never see another foxhound all my -life." - -"Not in Ireland!" exclaimed Lord Chiltern. - -"Not unless I should have to examine one as a witness. I have nothing -before me but downright hard work; and a great deal of that must be -done before I can hope to earn a shilling." - -"But you are so clever," said Violet. "Of course it will come -quickly." - -"I do not mean to be impatient about it, nor yet unhappy," said -Phineas. "Only hunting won't be much in my line." - -"And will you leave London altogether?" Violet asked. - -"Altogether. I shall stick to one club,--Brooks's; but I shall take -my name off all the others." - -"What a deuce of a nuisance!" said Lord Chiltern. - -"I have no doubt you will be very happy," said Violet; "and you'll be -a Lord Chancellor in no time. But you won't go quite yet." - -"Next Sunday." - -"You will return. You must be here for our wedding;--indeed you must. -I will not be married unless you do." - -Even this, however, was impossible. He must go on Sunday, and must -return no more. Then he made his little farewell speech, which he -could not deliver without some awkward stuttering. He would think of -her on the day of her marriage, and pray that she might be happy. And -he would send her a little trifle before he went, which he hoped she -would wear in remembrance of their old friendship. - -"She shall wear it, whatever it is, or I'll know the reason why," -said Chiltern. - -"Hold your tongue, you rough bear!" said Violet. "Of course I'll -wear it. And of course I'll think of the giver. I shall have many -presents, but few that I will think of so much." Then Phineas left -the room, with his throat so full that he could not speak another -word. - -"He is still broken-hearted about you," said the favoured lover as -soon as his rival had left the room. - -"It is not that," said Violet. "He is broken-hearted about -everything. The whole world is vanishing away from him. I wish he -could have made up his mind to marry that German woman with all the -money." It must be understood, however, that Phineas had never spoken -a word to any one as to the offer which the German woman had made to -him. - -It was on the morning of the Sunday on which he was to leave London -that he saw Lady Laura. He had asked that it might be so, in order -that he might then have nothing more upon his mind. He found her -quite alone, and he could see by her eyes that she had been weeping. -As he looked at her, remembering that it was not yet six years since -he had first been allowed to enter that room, he could not but -perceive how very much she was altered in appearance. Then she had -been three-and-twenty, and had not looked to be a day older. Now she -might have been taken to be nearly forty, so much had her troubles -preyed upon her spirit, and eaten into the vitality of her youth. "So -you have come to say good-bye," she said, smiling as she rose to meet -him. - -"Yes, Lady Laura;--to say good-bye. Not for ever, I hope, but -probably for long." - -"No, not for ever. At any rate, we will not think so." Then she -paused; but he was silent, sitting with his hat dangling in his two -hands, and his eyes fixed upon the floor. "Do you know, Mr. Finn," -she continued, "that sometimes I am very angry with myself about -you." - -"Then it must be because you have been too kind to me." - -"It is because I fear that I have done much to injure you. From -the first day that I knew you,--do you remember, when we were -talking here, in this very room, about the beginning of the Reform -Bill;--from that day I wished that you should come among us and be -one of us." - -"I have been with you, to my infinite satisfaction,--while it -lasted." - -"But it has not lasted, and now I fear that it has done you harm." - -"Who can say whether it has been for good or evil? But of this I am -sure you will be certain,--that I am very grateful to you for all the -goodness you have shown me." Then again he was silent. - -She did not know what it was that she wanted, but she did desire some -expression from his lips that should be warmer than an expression of -gratitude. An expression of love,--of existing love,--she would have -felt to be an insult, and would have treated it as such. Indeed, she -knew that from him no such insult could come. But she was in that -morbid, melancholy state of mind which requires the excitement -of more than ordinary sympathy, even though that sympathy be all -painful; and I think that she would have been pleased had he referred -to the passion for herself which he had once expressed. If he would -have spoken of his love, and of her mistake, and have made some -half-suggestion as to what might have been their lives had things -gone differently,--though she would have rebuked him even for -that,--still it would have comforted her. But at this moment, though -he remembered much that had passed between them, he was not even -thinking of the Braes of Linter. All that had taken place four years -ago;--and there had been so many other things since which had moved -him even more than that! "You have heard what I have arranged for -myself?" she said at last. - -"Your father has told me that you are going to Dresden." - -"Yes;--he will accompany me,--coming home of course for Parliament. -It is a sad break-up, is it not? But the lawyer says that if I remain -here I may be subject to very disagreeable attempts from Mr. Kennedy -to force me to go back again. It is odd, is it not, that he should -not understand how impossible it is?" - -"He means to do his duty." - -"I believe so. But he becomes more stern every day to those who are -with him. And then, why should I remain here? What is there to tempt -me? As a woman separated from her husband I cannot take an interest -in those things which used to charm me. I feel that I am crushed and -quelled by my position, even though there is no disgrace in it." - -"No disgrace, certainly," said Phineas. - -"But I am nobody,--or worse than nobody." - -"And I also am going to be a nobody," said Phineas, laughing. - -"Ah; you are a man and will get over it, and you have many years -before you will begin to be growing old. I am growing old already. -Yes, I am. I feel it, and know it, and see it. A woman has a fine -game to play; but then she is so easily bowled out, and the term -allowed to her is so short." - -"A man's allowance of time may be short too," said Phineas. - -"But he can try his hand again." Then there was another pause. "I had -thought, Mr. Finn, that you would have married," she said in her very -lowest voice. - -"You knew all my hopes and fears about that." - -"I mean that you would have married Madame Goesler." - -"What made you think that, Lady Laura?" - -"Because I saw that she liked you, and because such a marriage would -have been so suitable. She has all that you want. You know what they -say of her now?" - -"What do they say?" - -"That the Duke of Omnium offered to make her his wife, and that she -refused him for your sake." - -"There is nothing that people won't say;--nothing on earth," said -Phineas. Then he got up and took his leave of her. He also wanted to -part from her with some special expression of affection, but he did -not know how to choose his words. He had wished that some allusion -should be made, not to the Braes of Linter, but to the close -confidence which had so long existed between them; but he found -that the language to do this properly was wanting to him. Had the -opportunity arisen he would have told her now the whole story of -Mary Flood Jones; but the opportunity did not come, and he left her, -never having mentioned the name of his Mary or having hinted at his -engagement to any one of his friends in London. "It is better so," -he said to himself. "My life in Ireland is to be a new life, and why -should I mix two things together that will be so different?" - -He was to dine at his lodgings, and then leave them for good at -eight o'clock. He had packed up everything before he went to Portman -Square, and he returned home only just in time to sit down to his -solitary mutton chop. But as he sat down he saw a small note -addressed to himself lying on the table among the crowd of books, -letters, and papers, of which he had still to make disposal. It was -a very small note in an envelope of a peculiar tint of pink, and he -knew the handwriting well. The blood mounted all over his face as he -took it up, and he hesitated for a moment before he opened it. It -could not be that the offer should be repeated to him. Slowly, hardly -venturing at first to look at the enclosure, he opened it, and the -words which it contained were as follows:-- - - - I learn that you are going to-day, and I write a word - which you will receive just as you are departing. It is to - say merely this,--that when I left you the other day I was - angry, not with you, but with myself. Let me wish you all - good wishes and that prosperity which I know you will - deserve, and which I think you will win. - - Yours very truly, - - M. M. G. - - Sunday morning. - - -Should he put off his journey and go to her this very evening and -claim her as his friend? The question was asked and answered in a -moment. Of course he would not go to her. Were he to do so there -would be only one possible word for him to say, and that word should -certainly never be spoken. But he wrote to her a reply, shorter even -than her own short note. - - - Thanks, dear friend. I do not doubt but that you and I - understand each other thoroughly, and that each trusts the - other for good wishes and honest intentions. - - Always yours, - - P. F. - - I write these as I am starting. - - -When he had written this, he kept it till the last moment in his -hand, thinking that he would not send it. But as he slipped into the -cab, he gave the note to his late landlady to post. - -At the station Bunce came to him to say a word of farewell, and Mrs. -Bunce was on his arm. - -"Well done, Mr. Finn, well done," said Bunce. "I always knew there -was a good drop in you." - -"You always told me I should ruin myself in Parliament, and so I -have," said Phineas. - -"Not at all. It takes a deal to ruin a man if he's got the right -sperrit. I've better hopes of you now than ever I had in the old -days when you used to be looking out for Government place;--and Mr. -Monk has tried that too. I thought he would find the iron too heavy -for him." "God bless you, Mr. Finn," said Mrs. Bunce with her -handkerchief up to her eyes. "There's not one of 'em I ever had as -lodgers I've cared about half as much as I did for you." Then they -shook hands with him through the window, and the train was off. - - - - -CHAPTER LXXVI - -Conclusion - - -We are told that it is a bitter moment with the Lord Mayor when he -leaves the Mansion House and becomes once more Alderman Jones, of No. -75, Bucklersbury. Lord Chancellors going out of office have a great -fall though they take pensions with them for their consolation. And -the President of the United States when he leaves the glory of the -White House and once more becomes a simple citizen must feel the -change severely. But our hero, Phineas Finn, as he turned his back -upon the scene of his many successes, and prepared himself for -permanent residence in his own country, was, I think, in a worse -plight than any of the reduced divinities to whom I have alluded. -They at any rate had known that their fall would come. He, like -Icarus, had flown up towards the sun, hoping that his wings of wax -would bear him steadily aloft among the gods. Seeing that his wings -were wings of wax, we must acknowledge that they were very good. But -the celestial lights had been too strong for them, and now, having -lived for five years with lords and countesses, with Ministers and -orators, with beautiful women and men of fashion, he must start again -in a little lodging in Dublin, and hope that the attorneys of that -litigious city might be good to him. On his journey home he made but -one resolution. He would make the change, or attempt to make it, -with manly strength. During his last month in London he had allowed -himself to be sad, depressed, and melancholy. There should be an end -of all that now. Nobody at home should see that he was depressed. -And Mary, his own Mary, should at any rate have no cause to think -that her love and his own engagement had ever been the cause to him -of depression. Did he not value her love more than anything in the -world? A thousand times he told himself that he did. - -She was there in the old house at Killaloe to greet him. Her -engagement was an affair known to all the county, and she had no -idea that it would become her to be coy in her love. She was in his -arms before he had spoken to his father and mother, and had made her -little speech to him,--very inaudibly indeed,--while he was covering -her sweet face with kisses. "Oh, Phineas, I am so proud of you; and -I think you are so right, and I am so glad you have done it." Again -he covered her face with kisses. Could he ever have had such -satisfaction as this had he allowed Madame Goesler's hand to remain -in his? - -On the first night of his arrival he sat for an hour downstairs -with his father talking over his plans. He felt,--he could not but -feel,--that he was not the hero now that he had been when he was last -at Killaloe,--when he had come thither with a Cabinet Minister under -his wing. And yet his father did his best to prevent the growth of -any such feeling. The old doctor was not quite as well off as he had -been when Phineas first started with his high hopes for London. Since -that day he had abandoned his profession and was now living on the -fruits of his life's labour. For the last two years he had been -absolved from the necessity of providing an income for his son, and -had probably allowed himself to feel that no such demand upon him -would again be made. Now, however, it was necessary that he should do -so. Could his son manage to live on two hundred a-year? There would -then be four hundred a-year left for the wants of the family at home. -Phineas swore that he could fight his battle on a hundred and fifty, -and they ended the argument by splitting the difference. He had been -paying exactly the same sum of money for the rooms he had just left -in London; but then, while he held those rooms, his income had been -two thousand a-year. Tenant-right was a very fine thing, but could it -be worth such a fall as this? - -"And about dear Mary?" said the father. - -"I hope it may not be very long," said Phineas. - -"I have not spoken to her about it, but your mother says that Mrs. -Flood Jones is very averse to a long engagement." - -"What can I do? She would not wish me to marry her daughter with no -other income than an allowance made by you." - -"Your mother says that she has some idea that you and she might live -together;--that if they let Floodborough you might take a small house -in Dublin. Remember, Phineas, I am not proposing it myself." - -Then Phineas bethought himself that he was not even yet so low in the -world that he need submit himself to terms dictated to him by Mrs. -Flood Jones. "I am glad that you do not propose it, sir." - -"Why so, Phineas?" - -"Because I should have been obliged to oppose the plan even if it had -come from you. Mothers-in-law are never a comfort in a house." - -"I never tried it myself," said the doctor. - -"And I never will try it. I am quite sure that Mary does not expect -any such thing, and that she is willing to wait. If I can shorten the -term of waiting by hard work, I will do so." The decision to which -Phineas had come on this matter was probably made known to Mrs. Flood -Jones after some mild fashion by old Mrs. Finn. Nothing more was -said to Phineas about a joint household; but he was quite able to -perceive from the manner of the lady towards him that his proposed -mother-in-law wished him to understand that he was treating her -daughter very badly. What did it signify? None of them knew the story -of Madame Goesler, and of course none of them would know it. None of -them would ever hear how well he had behaved to his little Mary. - -But Mary did know it all before he left her to go up to Dublin. The -two lovers allowed themselves,--or were allowed by their elders, one -week of exquisite bliss together; and during this week, Phineas told -her, I think, everything. He told her everything as far as he could -do so without seeming to boast of his own successes. How is a man -not to tell such tales when he has on his arm, close to him, a girl -who tells him her little everything of life, and only asks for his -confidence in return? And then his secrets are so precious to her and -so sacred, that he feels as sure of her fidelity as though she were -a very goddess of faith and trust. And the temptation to tell is so -great. For all that he has to tell she loves him the better and still -the better. A man desires to win a virgin heart, and is happy to -know,--or at least to believe,--that he has won it. With a woman -every former rival is an added victim to the wheels of the triumphant -chariot in which she is sitting. "All these has he known and loved, -culling sweets from each of them. But now he has come to me, and I am -the sweetest of them all." And so Mary was taught to believe of Laura -and of Violet and of Madame Goesler,--that though they had had charms -to please, her lover had never been so charmed as he was now while -she was hanging to his breast. And I think that she was right in her -belief. During those lovely summer evening walks along the shores of -Lough Derg, Phineas was as happy as he had ever been at any moment of -his life. - -"I shall never be impatient,--never," she said to him on the last -evening. "All I want is that you should write to me." - -"I shall want more than that, Mary." - -"Then you must come down and see me. When you do come they will be -happy, happy days for me. But of course we cannot be married for the -next twenty years." - -"Say forty, Mary." - -"I will say anything that you like;--you will know what I mean just -as well. And, Phineas, I must tell you one thing,--though it makes me -sad to think of it, and will make me sad to speak of it." - -"I will not have you sad on our last night, Mary." - -"I must say it. I am beginning to understand how much you have given -up for me." - -"I have given up nothing for you." - -"If I had not been at Killaloe when Mr. Monk was here, and if we had -not,--had not,--oh dear, if I had not loved you so very much, you -might have remained in London, and that lady would have been your -wife." - -"Never!" said Phineas stoutly. - -"Would she not? She must not be your wife now, Phineas. I am not -going to pretend that I will give you up." - -"That is unkind, Mary." - -"Oh, well; you may say what you please. If that is unkind, I am -unkind. It would kill me to lose you." - -Had he done right? How could there be a doubt about it? How could -there be a question about it? Which of them had loved him, or was -capable of loving him as Mary loved him? What girl was ever so sweet, -so gracious, so angelic, as his own Mary? He swore to her that he was -prouder of winning her than of anything he had ever done in all his -life, and that of all the treasures that had ever come in his way she -was the most precious. She went to bed that night the happiest girl -in all Connaught, although when she parted from him she understood -that she was not to see him again till Christmas-Eve. - -But she did see him again before the summer was over, and the manner -of their meeting was in this wise. Immediately after the passing of -that scrambled Irish Reform Bill, Parliament, as the reader knows, -was dissolved. This was in the early days of June, and before the end -of July the new members were again assembled at Westminster. This -session, late in summer, was very terrible; but it was not very long, -and then it was essentially necessary. There was something of the -year's business which must yet be done, and the country would require -to know who were to be the Ministers of the Government. It is not -needed that the reader should be troubled any further with the -strategy of one political leader or of another, or that more should -be said of Mr. Monk and his tenant-right. The House of Commons had -offended Mr. Gresham by voting in a majority against him, and Mr. -Gresham had punished the House of Commons by subjecting it to the -expense and nuisance of a new election. All this is constitutional, -and rational enough to Englishmen, though it may be unintelligible to -strangers. The upshot on the present occasion was that the Ministers -remained in their places and that Mr. Monk's bill, though it had -received the substantial honour of a second reading, passed away for -the present into the limbo of abortive legislation. - -All this would not concern us at all, nor our poor hero much, were -it not that the great men with whom he had been for two years so -pleasant a colleague, remembered him with something of affectionate -regret. Whether it began with Mr. Gresham or with Lord Cantrip, I -will not say;--or whether Mr. Monk, though now a political enemy, -may have said a word that brought about the good deed. Be that as it -may, just before the summer session was brought to a close Phineas -received the following letter from Lord Cantrip:-- - - - Downing Street, August 4, 186--. - - MY DEAR MR. FINN,-- - - Mr. Gresham has been talking to me, and we both think - that possibly a permanent Government appointment may be - acceptable to you. We have no doubt, that should this be - the case, your services would be very valuable to the - country. There is a vacancy for a poor-law inspector at - present in Ireland, whose residence I believe should be - in Cork. The salary is a thousand a-year. Should the - appointment suit you, Mr. Gresham will be most happy to - nominate you to the office. Let me have a line at your - early convenience. - - Believe me, - - Most sincerely yours, - - CANTRIP. - - -He received the letter one morning in Dublin, and within three hours -he was on his route to Killaloe. Of course he would accept the -appointment, but he would not even do that without telling Mary of -his new prospect. Of course he would accept the appointment. Though -he had been as yet barely two months in Dublin, though he had hardly -been long enough settled to his work to have hoped to be able to see -in which way there might be a vista open leading to success, still he -had fancied that he had seen that success was impossible. He did not -know how to begin,--and men were afraid of him, thinking that he was -unsteady, arrogant, and prone to failure. He had not seen his way to -the possibility of a guinea. - -"A thousand a-year!" said Mary Flood Jones, opening her eyes wide -with wonder at the golden future before them. - -"It is nothing very great for a perpetuity," said Phineas. - -"Oh, Phineas; surely a thousand a-year will be very nice." - -"It will be certain," said Phineas, "and then we can be married -to-morrow." - -"But I have been making up my mind to wait ever so long," said Mary. - -"Then your mind must be unmade," said Phineas. - -What was the nature of the reply to Lord Cantrip the reader may -imagine, and thus we will leave our hero an Inspector of Poor Houses -in the County of Cork. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHINEAS FINN*** - - -******* This file should be named 18000.txt or 18000.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/0/0/18000 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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