“Yes,” he said, “it is so.”

“I never doubted it when you had declared it.  May I venture to say that I wish it had been otherwise?”

“It is too late now, Madame Goesler.  A man of course is a fool to show that he has any feelings in such a matter.  The fact is, I heard it just before I came here, and had made up my mind to send you an excuse.  I wish I had now.”

“Do not say that, Mr. Finn.”

“I have made such an ass of myself.”

“In my estimation you have done yourself honour.  But if I may venture to give you counsel, do not speak of this affair again as though you had been personally concerned in it.  In the world now-a-days the only thing disgraceful is to admit a failure.”

“And I have failed.”

“But you need not admit it, Mr. Finn.  I know I ought not to say as much to you.”

“I, rather, am deeply indebted to you.  I will go now, Madame Goesler, as I do not wish to leave the house with Lord Fawn.”

“But you will come and see me soon.”  Then Phineas promised that he would come soon; and felt as he made the promise that he would have an opportunity of talking over his love with his new friend at any rate without fresh shame as to his failure.

Laurence Fitzgibbon went away with Phineas, and Mr. Bonteen, having sent his wife away by herself, walked off towards the clubs with Lord Fawn.  He was very anxious to have a few words with Lord Fawn.  Lord Fawn had evidently been annoyed by Phineas, and Mr. Bonteen did not at all love the young Under-Secretary.  “That fellow has become the most consummate puppy I ever met,” said he, as he linked himself on to the lord, “Monk, and one or two others among them, have contrived to spoil him altogether.”

“I don’t believe a word of what he said about Lord Chiltern,” said Lord Fawn.

“About his marriage with Miss Effingham?”

“It would be such an abominable shame to sacrifice the girl,” said Lord Fawn.  “Only think of it.  Everything is gone.  The man is a drunkard, and I don’t believe he is any more reconciled to his father than you are.  Lady Laura Kennedy must have had some object in saying so.”

“Perhaps an invention of Finn’s altogether,” said Mr. Bonteen.  “Those Irish fellows are just the men for that kind of thing.”

“A man, you know, so violent that nobody can hold him,” said Lord Fawn, thinking of Chiltern.

“And so absurdly conceited,” said Mr. Bonteen, thinking of Phineas.

“A man who has never done anything, with all his advantages in the world,—­and never will.”

“He won’t hold his place long,” said Mr. Bonteen.

“Whom do you mean?”

“Phineas Finn.”

“Oh, Mr. Finn.  I was talking of Lord Chiltern.  I believe Finn to be a very good sort of a fellow, and he is undoubtedly clever.  They say Cantrip likes him amazingly.  He’ll do very well.  But I don’t believe a word of this about Lord Chiltern.”  Then Mr. Bonteen felt himself to be snubbed, and soon afterwards left Lord Fawn alone.