and dreary.  If he could only sit in chambers at the Treasury instead of chambers in that old court, how much pleasanter it would be!  After all, as regarded that question of income, it might well be that the Treasury chambers should be the more remunerative, and the more quickly remunerative, of the two.  And, as he thought, Lady Laura might be compatible with the Treasury chambers and Parliament, but could not possibly be made compatible with Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn.

But nevertheless there came upon him a feeling of sorrow when the old man at the lodge seemed to be rather glad than otherwise that he did not want the chambers.  “Then Mr. Green can have them,” said the porter; “that’ll be good news for Mr. Green.  I don’t know what the gen’lemen ’ll do for chambers if things goes on as they’re going.”  Mr. Green was welcome to the chambers as far as Phineas was concerned; but Phineas felt nevertheless a certain amount of regret that he should have been compelled to abandon a thing which was regarded both by the porter and by Mr. Green as being so desirable.  He had however written his letter to Mr. Low, and made his promise to Barrington Erle, and was bound to Lady Laura Standish; and he walked out through the old gateway into Chancery Lane, resolving that he would not even visit Lincoln’s Inn again for a year.  There were certain books,—­law books,—­which he would read at such intervals of leisure as politics might give him; but within the precincts of the Inns of Court he would not again put his foot for twelve months, let learned pundits of the law,—­such for instance as Mr. and Mrs. Low,—­say what they might.

He had told Mrs. Bunce, before he left his home after breakfast, that he should for the present remain under her roof.  She had been much gratified, not simply because lodgings in Great Marlborough Street are less readily let than chambers in Lincoln’s Inn, but also because it was a great honour to her to have a member of Parliament in her house.  Members of Parliament are not so common about Oxford Street as they are in the neighbourhood of Pall Mall and St. James’s Square.  But Mr. Bunce, when he came home to his dinner, did not join as heartily as he should have done in his wife’s rejoicing.  Mr. Bunce was in the employment of certain copying law-stationers in Carey Street, and had a strong belief in the law as a profession;—­but he had none whatever in the House of Commons.  “And he’s given up going into chambers?” said Mr. Bunce to his wife.

“Given it up altogether for the present,” said Mrs. Bunce.

“And he don’t mean to have no clerk?” said Mr. Bunce.

“Not unless it is for his Parliament work.”

“There ain’t no clerks wanted for that, and what’s worse, there ain’t no fees to pay ’em.  I’ll tell you what it is, Jane;—­if you don’t look sharp there won’t be nothing to pay you before long.”

“And he in Parliament, Jacob!”

“There ain’t no salary for being in Parliament.  There are scores of them Parliament gents ain’t got so much as’ll pay their dinners for ’em.  And then if anybody does trust ’em, there’s no getting at ’em to make ’em pay as there is at other folk.”