uld not wish me to marry her daughter with no
other income than an allowance made by you."

"Your mother says that she has some idea that you and she might live
together;--that if they let Floodborough you might take a small house
in Dublin. Remember, Phineas, I am not proposing it myself."

Then Phineas bethought himself that he was not even yet so low in the
world that he need submit himself to terms dictated to him by Mrs.
Flood Jones. "I am glad that you do not propose it, sir."

"Why so, Phineas?"

"Because I should have been obliged to oppose the plan even if it had
come from you. Mothers-in-law are never a comfort in a house."

"I never tried it myself," said the doctor.

"And I never will try it. I am quite sure that Mary does not expect
any such thing, and that she is willing to wait. If I can shorten the
term of waiting by hard work, I will do so." The decision to which
Phineas had come on this matter was probably made known to Mrs. Flood
Jones after some mild fashion by old Mrs. Finn. Nothing more was
said to Phineas about a joint household; but he was quite able to
perceive from the manner of the lady towards him that his proposed
mother-in-law wished him to understand that he was treating her
daughter very badly. What did it signify? None of them knew the story
of Madame Goesler, and of course none of them would know it. None of
them would ever hear how well he had behaved to his little Mary.

But Mary did know it all before he left her to go up to Dublin. The
two lovers allowed themselves,--or were allowed by their elders, one
week of exquisite bliss together; and during this week, Phineas told
her, I think, everything. He told her everything as far as he could
do so without seeming to boast of his own successes. How is a man
not to tell such tales when he has on his arm, close to him, a girl
who tells him her little everything of life, and only asks for his
confidence in return? And then his secrets are so precious to her and
so sacred, that he feels as sure of her fidelity as though she were
a very goddess of faith and trust. And the temptation to tell is so
great. For all that he has to tell she loves him the better and still
the better. A man desires to win a virgin heart, and is happy to
know,--or at least to believe,--that he has won it. With a woman
every former rival is an added victim to the wheels of the triumphant
chariot in which she is sitting. "All these has he known and loved,
cullin