me alive, but still one eats meat
without being a glutton. I very often regret the want of amusements,
and particularly of those which would throw me more among my
fellow-creatures. A man is alone when reading, alone when writing,
alone when thinking. Even sitting in Parliament he is very much
alone, though there be a crowd around him. Now a man can hardly be
thoroughly useful unless he knows his fellow-men, and how is he to
know them if he shuts himself up? If I had to begin again I think I
would cultivate the amusements of the time."

Not long after this the Duke asked him whether he was going to join
the shooting men on that morning. Phineas declared that his hands
were too full of business for any amusement before lunch. "Then,"
said the Duke, "will you walk with me in the afternoon? There is
nothing I really like so much as a walk. There are some very pretty
points where the river skirts the park. And I will show you the spot
on which Sir Guy de Palliser performed the feat for which the king
gave him this property. It was a grand time when a man could get
half-a-dozen parishes because he tickled the king's fancy."

"But suppose he didn't tickle the king's fancy?"

"Ah, then indeed, it might go otherwise with him. But I am glad to
say that Sir Guy was an accomplished courtier."

The walk was taken, and the pretty bends of the river were seen; but
they were looked at without much earnestness, and Sir Guy's great
deed was not again mentioned. The conversation went away to other
matters. Of course it was not long before the Prime Minister was
deep in discussing the probabilities of the next Session. It was
soon apparent to Phineas that the Duke was no longer desirous of
resigning, though he spoke very freely of the probable necessity
there might be for him to do so. At the present moment he was in his
best humour. His feet were on his own property. He could see the
prosperity around him. The spot was the one which he loved best in
all the world. He liked his present companion, who was one to whom he
was entitled to speak with freedom. But there was still present to
him the sense of some injury from which he could not free himself. Of
course he did not know that he had been haughty to Sir Orlando, to
Sir Timothy, and others. But he did know that he had intended to be
true, and he thought that they had been treacherous. Twelve months
ago there had been a goal before him which he might attain, a
winning-post which w