ecause 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.