“Then leave tenant-right to the people and the Cabinet.  Why should you take it up?”

Mr. Monk paused a moment or two before he replied.  “If I choose to run a-muck, there is no reason why you should follow me.  I am old and you are young.  I want nothing from politics as a profession, and you do.  Moreover, you have a congenial subject where you are, and need not disturb yourself.  For myself, I tell you, in confidence, that I cannot speak so comfortably of my own position.”

“We will go and see, at any rate,” said Phineas.

“Yes,” said Mr. Monk, “we will go and see.”  And thus, in the month of May, it was settled between them that, as soon as the session should be over, and the incidental work of his office should allow Phineas to pack up and be off, they two should start together for Ireland.  Phineas felt rather proud as he wrote to his father and asked permission to bring home with him a Cabinet Minister as a visitor.  At this time the reputation of Phineas at Killaloe, as well in the minds of the Killaloeians generally as in those of the inhabitants of the paternal house, stood very high indeed.  How could a father think that a son had done badly when before he was thirty years of age he was earning L2,000 a year?  And how could a father not think well of a son who had absolutely paid back certain moneys into the paternal coffers?  The moneys so repaid had not been much; but the repayment of any such money at Killaloe had been regarded as little short of miraculous.  The news of Mr. Monk’s coming flew about the town, about the county, about the diocese, and all people began to say all good things about the old doctor’s only son.  Mrs. Finn had long since been quite sure that a real black swan had been sent forth out of her nest.  And the sisters Finn, for some time past, had felt in all social gatherings they stood quite on a different footing than formerly because of their brother.  They were asked about in the county, and two of them had been staying only last Easter with the Molonys,—­the Molonys of Poldoodie!  How should a father and a mother and sisters not be grateful to such a son, to such a brother, to such a veritable black swan out of the nest!  And as for dear little Mary Flood Jones, her eyes became suffused with tears as in her solitude she thought how much out of her reach this swan was flying.  And yet she took joy in his swanhood, and swore that she would love him still;—­that she would love him always.  Might he bring home with him to Killaloe, Mr. Monk, the Cabinet Minister!  Of course he might.  When Mrs. Finn first heard of this august arrival, she felt as though she would like to expend herself in entertaining, though but an hour, the whole cabinet.