eved the rumour. It became necessary, however, to
send another lawyer's clerk, and the matter was gradually progressing
to a very interesting complication.

Mr. Bonteen, to tell the truth, was becoming sick of it. When
Emilius, or Mealyus, was supposed to have absconded, Lady Eustace
left Mr. Bonteen's house, and located herself at one of the large
London hotels; but when the man came back, bolder than ever, she
again betook herself to the shelter of Mr. Bonteen's roof. She
expressed the most lavish affection for Mrs. Bonteen, and professed
to regard Mr. Bonteen as almost a political god, declaring her
conviction that he, and he alone, as Prime Minister, could save the
country, and became very loud in her wrath when he was robbed of his
seat in the Cabinet. Lizzie Eustace, as her ladyship had always been
called, was a clever, pretty, coaxing little woman, who knew how to
make the most of her advantages. She had not been very wise in her
life, having lost the friends who would have been truest to her, and
confided in persons who had greatly injured her. She was neither
true of heart or tongue, nor affectionate, nor even honest. But she
was engaging; she could flatter; and could assume a reverential
admiration which was very foreign to her real character. In these
days she almost worshipped Mr. Bonteen, and could never be happy
except in the presence of her dearest darling friend Mrs. Bonteen.
Mr. Bonteen was tired of her, and Mrs. Bonteen was becoming almost
sick of the constant kisses with which she was greeted; but Lizzie
Eustace had got hold of them, and they could not turn her off.

"You saw _The People's Banner_, Mrs. Bonteen, on Monday?" Lady
Eustace had been reading the paper in her friend's drawing-room.
"They seem to think that Mr. Bonteen must be Prime Minister before
long."

"I don't think he expects that, my dear."

"Why not? Everybody says _The People's Banner_ is the cleverest paper
we have now. I always hated the very name of that Phineas Finn."

"Did you know him?"

"Not exactly. He was gone before my time; but poor Lord Fawn used to
talk of him. He was one of those conceited Irish upstarts that are
never good for anything."

"Very handsome, you know," said Mrs. Bonteen.

"Was he? I have heard it said that a good many ladies admired him."

"It was quite absurd; with Lady Laura Kennedy it was worse than
absurd. And there was Lady Glencora, and Violet Effingham, who
married Lady Laura's brother,