Dublin.

He had not, since his arrival at Killaloe, been a moment alone with
Mary Flood Jones till the evening before he started with Mr. Monk.
She had kept out of his way successfully, though she had constantly
been with him in company, and was beginning to plume herself on the
strength and valour of her conduct. But her self-praise had in it
nothing of joy, and her glory was very sad. Of course she would care
for him no more,--more especially as it was so very evident that he
cared not at all for her. But the very fact of her keeping out of
his way, made her acknowledge to herself that her position was very
miserable. She had declared to her mother that she might certainly
go to Killaloe with safety,--that it would be better for her to put
herself in the way of meeting him as an old friend,--that the idea of
the necessity of shutting herself up because of his approach, was the
one thing that gave her real pain. Therefore her mother had brought
her to Killaloe and she had met him; but her fancied security had
deserted her, and she found herself to be miserable, hoping for
something she did not know what, still dreaming of possibilities,
feeling during every moment of his presence with her that some
special conduct was necessary on her part. She could not make further
confession to her mother and ask to be carried back to Floodborough;
but she knew that she was very wretched at Killaloe.

As for Phineas, he had felt that his old friend was very cold to him.
He was in that humour with reference to Violet Effingham which seemed
especially to require consolation. He knew now that all hope was
over there. Violet Effingham could never be his wife. Even were she
not to marry Lord Chiltern for the next five years, she would not,
during those five years, marry any other man. Such was our hero's
conviction; and, suffering under this conviction, he was in want of
the comfort of feminine sympathy. Had Mary known all this, and had it
suited her to play such a part, I think she might have had Phineas
at her feet before he had been a week at home. But she had kept
aloof from him and had heard nothing of his sorrows. As a natural
consequence of this, Phineas was more in love with her than ever.

On the evening before he started with Mr. Monk for Limerick, he
managed to be alone with her for a few minutes. Barbara may probably
have assisted in bringing about this arrangement, and had, perhaps,
been guilty of some treachery,--sister