resence would kill me!"

When Phineas repeated this, or as much of this as he judged to be
necessary, to Mr. Kennedy a day or two afterwards, that gentleman
replied that in such case he would have no alternative but to seek
redress at law. "I have done nothing to my wife," said he, "of
which I need be ashamed. It will be sad, no doubt, to have all our
affairs bandied about in court, and made the subject of comment in
newspapers, but a man must go through that, or worse than that, in
the vindication of his rights, and for the performance of his duty to
his Maker." That very day Mr. Kennedy went to his lawyer, and desired
that steps might be taken for the restitution to him of his conjugal
rights.

CHAPTER LXIX

The Temptress

Mr. Monk's bill was read the first time before Easter, and Phineas
Finn still held his office. He had spoken to the Prime Minister
once on the subject, and had been surprised at that gentleman's
courtesy;--for Mr. Gresham had the reputation of being unconciliatory
in his manners, and very prone to resent anything like desertion from
that allegiance which was due to himself as the leader of his party.
"You had better stay where you are and take no step that may be
irretrievable, till you have quite made up your mind," said Mr.
Gresham.

"I fear I have made up my mind," said Phineas.

"Nothing can be done till after Easter," replied the great man, "and
there is no knowing how things may go then. I strongly recommend you
to stay with us. If you can do this it will be only necessary that
you shall put your resignation in Lord Cantrip's hands before you
speak or vote against us. See Monk and talk it over with him." Mr.
Gresham possibly imagined that Mr. Monk might be moved to abandon his
bill, when he saw what injury he was about to do.

At this time Phineas received the following letter from his darling
Mary:--

Floodborough, Thursday.

DEAREST PHINEAS,

We have just got home from Killaloe, and mean to remain
here all through the summer. After leaving your sisters
this house seems so desolate; but I shall have the more
time to think of you. I have been reading Tennyson, as you
told me, and I fancy that I could in truth be a Mariana
here, if it were not that I am so quite certain that you
will come;--and that makes all the difference in the world
in a moated grange. Last night I sat at the window and
tried to realise what I should feel if you wer