d have been avoided."

"You should not have gone to Ireland with so dangerous a man as Mr.
Monk. But it is too late to think of that now."

"The milk is spilt; is it not?"

"But these terrible rendings asunder never last very long," said
Lord Cantrip, "unless a man changes his opinions altogether. How
many quarrels and how many reconciliations we have lived to see! I
remember when Gresham went out of office, because he could not sit
in the same room with Mr. Mildmay, and yet they became the fastest
of political friends. There was a time when Plinlimmon and the Duke
could not stable their horses together at all; and don't you remember
when Palliser was obliged to give up his hopes of office because he
had some bee in his bonnet?" I think, however, that the bee in Mr.
Palliser's bonnet to which Lord Cantrip was alluding made its buzzing
audible on some subject that was not exactly political. "We shall
have you back again before long, I don't doubt. Men who can really do
their work are too rare to be left long in the comfort of the benches
below the gangway." This was very kindly said, and Phineas was
flattered and comforted. He could not, however, make Lord Cantrip
understand the whole truth. For him the dream of a life of politics
was over for ever. He had tried it, and had succeeded beyond his
utmost hopes; but, in spite of his success, the ground had crumbled
to pieces beneath his feet, and he knew that he could never recover
the niche in the world's gallery which he was now leaving.

That same afternoon he met Mr. Gresham in one of the passages leading
to the House, and the Prime Minister put his arm through that of our
hero as they walked together into the lobby. "I am sorry that we are
losing you," said Mr. Gresham.

"You may be sure that I am sorry to be so lost," said Phineas.

"These things will occur in political life," said the leader; "but
I think that they seldom leave rancour behind them when the purpose
is declared, and when the subject of disagreement is marked and
understood. The defalcation which creates angry feeling is that which
has to be endured without previous warning,--when a man votes against
his party,--or a set of men, from private pique or from some cause
which is never clear." Phineas, when he heard this, knew well how
terribly this very man had been harassed, and driven nearly wild,
by defalcation, exactly of that nature which he was attempting to
describe. "No doubt you and Mr. Monk