and then instantly again
pulled out of it, soiled but unscorched,--he dressed himself for
dinner, and went out to Madame Max Goesler's. Upon the whole, he was
glad that he had not sent the note of excuse. A man must live, even
though his heart be broken, and living he must dine.

Madame Max Goesler was fond of giving little dinners at this period
of the year, before London was crowded, and when her guests might
probably not be called away by subsequent social arrangements. Her
number seldom exceeded six or eight, and she always spoke of these
entertainments as being of the humblest kind. She sent out no big
cards. She preferred to catch her people as though by chance, when
that was possible. "Dear Mr. Jones. Mr. Smith is coming to tell
me about some sherry on Tuesday. Will you come and tell me too? I
daresay you know as much about it." And then there was a studious
absence of parade. The dishes were not very numerous. The bill of
fare was simply written out once, for the mistress, and so circulated
round the table. Not a word about the things to be eaten or the
things to be drunk was ever spoken at the table,--or at least no such
word was ever spoken by Madame Goesler. But, nevertheless, they who
knew anything about dinners were aware that Madame Goesler gave very
good dinners indeed. Phineas Finn was beginning to flatter himself
that he knew something about dinners, and had been heard to assert
that the soups at the cottage in Park Lane were not to be beaten in
London. But he cared for no soup to-day, as he slowly made his way up
Madame Goesler's staircase.

There had been one difficulty in the way of Madame Goesler's
dinner-parties which had required some patience and great ingenuity
in its management. She must either have ladies, or she must not have
them. There was a great allurement in the latter alternative; but she
knew well that if she gave way to it, all prospect of general society
would for her be closed,--and for ever. This had been in the early
days of her widowhood in Park Lane. She cared but little for women's
society; but she knew well that the society of gentlemen without
women would not be that which she desired. She knew also that she
might as effectually crush herself and all her aspirations by
bringing to her house indifferent women,--women lacking something
either in character, or in position, or in talent,--as by having none
at all. Thus there had been a great difficulty, and sometimes she had
t