been told of him. Mr. Gresham had, in fact, declined to listen to
him;--had said Yes or No was all that he required, and had gone on to
explain that he would be unable to understand the reasons proposed to
be given even were he to hear them. Phineas had felt himself to be
repulsed, and would at once have shown his anger, had not the Prime
Minister silenced him for the moment by a civilly-worded repetition
of the offer made.

But the offer should certainly be declined. As he told himself that
it must be so, he endeavoured to analyse the causes of this decision,
but was hardly successful. He had thought that he could explain the
reasons to the Minister, but found himself incapable of explaining
them to himself. In regard to means of subsistence he was no better
off now than when he began the world. He was, indeed, without
incumbrance, but was also without any means of procuring an income.
For the last twelve months he had been living on his little capital,
and two years more of such life would bring him to the end of all
that he had. There was, no doubt, one view of his prospects which was
bright enough. If Marie Goesler accepted him, he need not, at any
rate, look about for the means of earning a living. But he assured
himself with perfect confidence that no hope in that direction would
have any influence upon the answer he would give to Mr. Gresham. Had
not Marie Goesler herself been most urgent with him in begging him to
accept the offer; and was he not therefore justified in concluding
that she at least had thought it necessary that he should earn his
bread? Would her heart be softened towards him,--would any further
softening be necessary,--by his obstinate refusal to comply with her
advice? The two things had no reference to each other,--and should be
regarded by him as perfectly distinct. He would refuse Mr. Gresham's
offer,--not because he hoped that he might live in idleness on the
wealth of the woman he loved,--but because the chicaneries and
intrigues of office had become distasteful to him. "I don't know
which are the falser," he said to himself, "the mock courtesies or
the mock indignations of statesmen."

He found the Earl's carriage waiting for him at the station, and
thought of many former days, as he was carried through the little
town for which he had sat in Parliament, up to the house which he
had once visited in the hope of wooing Violet Effingham. The women
whom he had loved had all, at any rate, be