ter the cub-hunting. Nothing that
either Violet or Phineas could say to him would induce him to
promise to go to Saulsby. When Phineas pressed it, he was told by
Lord Chiltern that he was a fool for his pains,--by which Phineas
understood perfectly well that when Lord Chiltern did go to Saulsby,
he, Phineas, was to take that as strong evidence that everything was
over for him as regarded Violet Effingham. When Violet expressed her
eagerness that the visit should be made, she was stopped with an
assurance that she could have it done at once if she pleased. Let him
only be enabled to carry with him the tidings of his betrothal, and
he would start for his father's house without an hour's delay. But
this authority Violet would not give him. When he answered her after
this fashion she could only tell him that he was ungenerous. "At any
rate I am not false," he replied on one occasion. "What I say is the
truth."

There was a very tender parting between Phineas and Madame Max
Goesler. She had learned from him pretty nearly all his history, and
certainly knew more of the reality of his affairs than any of those
in London who had been his most staunch friends. "Of course you'll
get a seat," she said as he took his leave of her. "If I understand
it at all, they never throw over an ally so useful as you are."

"But the intention is that in this matter nobody shall any longer
have the power of throwing over, or of not throwing over, anybody."

"That is all very well, my friend; but cakes will still be hot in the
mouth, even though Mr. Daubeny turn purist, with Mr. Turnbull to help
him. If you want any assistance in finding a seat you will not go to
the _People's Banner_,--even yet."

"Certainly not to the _People's Banner_."

"I don't quite understand what the franchise is," continued Madame
Max Goesler.

"Household in boroughs," said Phineas with some energy.

"Very well;--household in boroughs. I daresay that is very fine and
very liberal, though I don't comprehend it in the least. And you want
a borough. Very well. You won't go to the households. I don't think
you will;--not at first, that is."

"Where shall I go then?"

"Oh,--to some great patron of a borough;--or to a club;--or perhaps
to some great firm. The households will know nothing about it till
they are told. Is not that it?"

"The truth is, Madame Max, I do not know where I shall go. I am like
a child lost in a wood. And you may understand this;--if you do