What the People in Marylebone Thought

Phineas Finn, when the session began, was still hard at work upon his Canada bill, and in his work found some relief for his broken back.  He went into the matter with all his energy, and before the debate came on, knew much more about the seven thousand inhabitants of some hundreds of thousands of square miles at the back of Canada, than he did of the people of London or of County Clare.  And he found some consolation also in the good-nature of Madame Goesler, whose drawing-room was always open to him.  He could talk freely now to Madame Goesler about Violet, and had even ventured to tell her that once, in old days, he had thought of loving Lady Laura Standish.  He spoke of those days as being very old; and then he perhaps said some word to her about dear little Mary Flood Jones.  I think that there was not much in his career of which he did not say something to Madame Goesler, and that he received from her a good deal of excellent advice and encouragement in the direction of his political ambition.  “A man should work,” she said,—­“and you do work.  A woman can only look on, and admire and long.  What is there that I can do?  I can learn to care for these Canadians, just because you care for them.  If it was the beavers that you told me of, I should have to care for the beavers.”  Then Phineas of course told her that such sympathy from her was all and all to him.  But the reader must not on this account suppose that he was untrue in his love to Violet Effingham.  His back was altogether broken by his fall, and he was quite aware that such was the fact.  Not as yet, at least, had come to him any remotest idea that a cure was possible.

Early in March he heard that Lady Laura was up in town, and of course he was bound to go to her.  The information was given to him by Mr. Kennedy himself, who told him that he had been to Scotland to fetch her.  In these days there was an acknowledged friendship between these two, but there was no intimacy.  Indeed, Mr. Kennedy was a man who was hardly intimate with any other man.  With Phineas he now and then exchanged a few words in the lobby of the House, and when they chanced to meet each other, they met as friends.  Mr. Kennedy had no strong wish to see again in his house the man respecting whom he had ventured to caution his wife; but he was thoughtful; and thinking over it all, he found it better to ask him there.  No one must know that there was any reason why Phineas should not come to his house; especially as all the world knew that Phineas had protected him from the garrotters.  “Lady Laura is in town now,” he said; “you must go and see her before long.”  Phineas of course promised that he would go.