to regard as strong evidence of punctuality.  He had not been angry, but had simply expressed his intention of calling again,—­giving Phineas to understand that business would probably take him to the west of Ireland in the autumn.  If only business might not take him down either to Loughlinter or to Saulsby!  But the strange visitor who came to Phineas in the midst of these troubles put an end to them all.

The strange visitor was Miss Aspasia Fitzgibbon.  “You’ll be very much surprised at my coming to your chambers, no doubt,” she said, as she sat down in the chair which Phineas placed for her.  Phineas could only say that he was very proud to be so highly honoured, and that he hoped she was well.  “Pretty well, I thank you.  I have just come about a little business, Mr. Finn, and I hope you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m quite sure that there is no need for excuses,” said Phineas.

“Laurence, when he hears about it, will say that I’ve been an impertinent old fool; but I never care what Laurence says, either this way or that.  I’ve been to that Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Finn, and I’ve paid him the money.”

“No!” said Phineas.

“But I have, Mr. Finn.  I happened to hear what occurred that night at the door of the House of Commons.”

“Who told you, Miss Fitzgibbon?”

“Never mind who told me.  I heard it.  I knew before that you had been foolish enough to help Laurence about money, and so I put two and two together.  It isn’t the first time I have had to do with Mr. Clarkson.  So I sent to him, and I’ve bought the bill.  There it is.”  And Miss Fitzgibbon produced the document which bore the name of Phineas Finn across the front of it.

“And did you pay him two hundred and fifty pounds for it?”

“Not quite.  I had a very hard tussle, and got it at last for two hundred and twenty pounds.”

“And did you do it yourself?”

“All myself.  If I had employed a lawyer I should have had to pay two hundred and forty pounds and five pounds for costs.  And now, Mr. Finn, I hope you won’t have any more money engagements with my brother Laurence.”  Phineas said that he thought he might promise that he would have no more.  “Because, if you do, I shan’t interfere.  If Laurence began to find that he could get money out of me in that way, there would be no end to it.  Mr. Clarkson would very soon be spending his spare time in my drawing-room.  Good-bye, Mr. Finn.  If Laurence says anything, just tell him that he’d better come to me.”  Then Phineas was left looking at the bill.  It was certainly a great relief to him,—­that he should be thus secured from the domiciliary visits of Mr. Clarkson; a great relief to him to be assured that Mr. Clarkson would not find him out down at Loughton; but nevertheless, he had to suffer a pang of shame as he felt that Miss Fitzgibbon had become acquainted with his poverty and had found herself obliged to satisfy his pecuniary liabilities.