,--spoke as
though Lady Laura were to be pitied more than all others, because of
the evil that had befallen Phineas Finn! Had not Lady Laura chosen
her own husband; and was not the man, let him be ever so mad, still
her husband? Madame Goesler was sore of heart, as well as broken down
with sorrow, till at last, hiding her face on the pillow of the sofa,
still holding the Duchess's letter in her hand, she burst into a fit
of hysteric sobs.

Few of those who knew Madame Max Goesler well, as she lived in town
and in country, would have believed that such could have been the
effect upon her of the news which she had heard. Credit was given to
her everywhere for good nature, discretion, affability, and a certain
grace of demeanour which always made her charming. She was known to
be generous, wise, and of high spirit. Something of her conduct to
the old Duke had crept into general notice, and had been told, here
and there, to her honour. She had conquered the good opinion of many,
and was a popular woman. But there was not one among her friends who
supposed her capable of becoming a victim to a strong passion, or
would have suspected her of reckless weeping for any sorrow. The
Duchess, who thought that she knew Madame Goesler well, would not
have believed it to be true, even if she had seen it. "You like
people, but I don't think you ever love any one," the Duchess had
once said to her. Madame Goesler had smiled, and had seemed to
assent. To enjoy the world,--and to know that the best enjoyment must
come from witnessing the satisfaction of others, had apparently been
her philosophy. But now she was prostrate because this man was in
trouble, and because she had been told that his trouble was more than
another woman could bear!

She was still sobbing and crushing the letter in her hand when the
servant came up to tell her that Mr. Maule had called. He was below,
waiting to know whether she would see him. She remembered at once
that Mr. Maule had met Phineas at her table on the previous evening,
and, thinking that he must have come with tidings respecting this
great event, desired that he might be shown up to her. But, as it
happened, Mr. Maule had not yet heard of the death of Mr. Bonteen. He
had remained at home till nearly four, having a great object in view,
which made him deem it expedient that he should go direct from his
own rooms to Madame Goesler's house, and had not even looked in at
his club. The reader will, perha