n hand when Parliament should meet. Of course Phineas
spoke also. It was impossible that he should be silent when his
friend and leader was pouring out his eloquence. Of course he spoke,
and of course he pledged himself. Something like the old pleasures
of the debating society returned to him, as standing upon a platform
before a listening multitude, he gave full vent to his words. In
the House of Commons, of late he had been so cabined, cribbed, and
confined by office as to have enjoyed nothing of this. Indeed, from
the commencement of his career, he had fallen so thoroughly into the
decorum of Government ways, as to have missed altogether the delights
of that wild irresponsible oratory of which Mr. Monk had spoken
to him so often. He had envied men below the gangway, who, though
supporting the Government on main questions, could get up on their
legs whenever the House was full enough to make it worth their while,
and say almost whatever they pleased. There was that Mr. Robson, who
literally did say just what came uppermost; and the thing that came
uppermost was often ill-natured, often unbecoming the gravity of the
House, was always startling; but men listened to him and liked him to
speak. But Mr. Robson had--married a woman with money. Oh, why,--why,
had not Violet Effingham been kinder to him? He might even yet,
perhaps, marry a woman with money. But he could not bring himself to
do so unless he loved her.

The upshot of the Dublin meeting was that he also positively pledged
himself to support during the next session of Parliament a bill
advocating tenant-right. "I am sorry you went so far as that," Mr.
Monk said to him almost as soon as the meeting was over. They were
standing on the pier at Kingstown, and Mr. Monk was preparing to
return to England.

"And why not I as far as you?"

"Because I had thought about it, and I do not think that you have. I
am prepared to resign my office to-morrow; and directly that I can
see Mr. Gresham and explain to him what I have done, I shall offer to
do so."

"He won't accept your resignation."

"He must accept it, unless he is prepared to instruct the Irish
Secretary to bring in such a bill as I can support."

"I shall be exactly in the same boat."

"But you ought not to be in the same boat;--nor need you. My advice
to you is to say nothing about it till you get back to London, and
then speak to Lord Cantrip. Tell him that you will not say anything
on the subject in th