On the following morning he found a leading article in the People’s Banner devoted solely to himself.  “During the late debate,”—­so ran a passage in the leading article,—­“Mr. Finn, Lord Brentford’s Irish nominee for his pocket-borough at Loughton, did at last manage to stand on his legs and open his mouth.  If we are not mistaken, this is Mr. Finn’s third session in Parliament, and hitherto he has been unable to articulate three sentences, though he has on more than one occasion made the attempt.  For what special merit this young man has been selected for aristocratic patronage we do not know,—­but that there must be some merit recognisable by aristocratic eyes, we surmise.  Three years ago he was a raw young Irishman, living in London as Irishmen only know how to live, earning nothing, and apparently without means; and then suddenly he bursts out as a member of Parliament and as the friend of Cabinet Ministers.  The possession of one good gift must be acceded to the honourable member for Loughton,—­he is a handsome young man, and looks to be as strong as a coal-porter.  Can it be that his promotion has sprung from this?  Be this as it may, we should like to know where he has been during his late mysterious absence from Parliament, and in what way he came by the wound in his arm.  Even handsome young members of Parliament, feted by titled ladies and their rich lords, are amenable to the laws,—­to the laws of this country, and to the laws of any other which it may suit them to visit for a while!”

“Infamous scoundrel!” said Phineas to himself, as he read this.  “Vile, low, disreputable blackguard!” It was clear enough, however, that Quintus Slide had found out something of his secret.  If so, his only hope would rest on the fact that his friends were not likely to see the columns of the People’s Banner.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Lady Laura Is Told

By the time that Mr. Mildmay’s great bill was going into committee Phineas was able to move about London in comfort,—­with his arm, however, still in a sling.  There had been nothing more about him and his wound in the People’s Banner, and he was beginning to hope that that nuisance would also be allowed to die away.  He had seen Lady Laura,—­having dined in Grosvenor Place, where he had been petted to his heart’s content.  His dinner had been cut up for him, and his wound had been treated with the tenderest sympathy.  And, singular to say, no questions were asked.  He had been to Kent and had come by an accident.  No more than that was told, and his dear sympathising friends were content to receive so much information, and to ask for no more.  But he had not as yet seen Violet Effingham, and he was beginning to think that this romance about Violet might as well be brought to a close.  He had not, however, as yet been able to go into crowded rooms, and unless he went out to large parties he could not be sure that he would meet Miss Effingham.