All this would not concern us at all, nor our poor hero much, were it not that the great men with whom he had been for two years so pleasant a colleague, remembered him with something of affectionate regret.  Whether it began with Mr. Gresham or with Lord Cantrip, I will not say;—­or whether Mr. Monk, though now a political enemy, may have said a word that brought about the good deed.  Be that as it may, just before the summer session was brought to a close Phineas received the following letter from Lord Cantrip:—­

   Downing Street, August 4, 186—.

   MY DEAR MR. FINN,—­

Mr. Gresham has been talking to me, and we both think that possibly a permanent Government appointment may be acceptable to you.  We have no doubt, that should this be the case, your services would be very valuable to the country.  There is a vacancy for a poor-law inspector at present in Ireland, whose residence I believe should be in Cork.  The salary is a thousand a-year.  Should the appointment suit you, Mr. Gresham will be most happy to nominate you to the office.  Let me have a line at your early convenience.

   Believe me,

   Most sincerely yours,

   CANTRIP.

He received the letter one morning in Dublin, and within three hours he was on his route to Killaloe.  Of course he would accept the appointment, but he would not even do that without telling Mary of his new prospect.  Of course he would accept the appointment.  Though he had been as yet barely two months in Dublin, though he had hardly been long enough settled to his work to have hoped to be able to see in which way there might be a vista open leading to success, still he had fancied that he had seen that success was impossible.  He did not know how to begin,—­and men were afraid of him, thinking that he was unsteady, arrogant, and prone to failure.  He had not seen his way to the possibility of a guinea.

“A thousand a-year!” said Mary Flood Jones, opening her eyes wide with wonder at the golden future before them.

“It is nothing very great for a perpetuity,” said Phineas.

“Oh, Phineas; surely a thousand a-year will be very nice.”

“It will be certain,” said Phineas, “and then we can be married to-morrow.”

“But I have been making up my mind to wait ever so long,” said Mary.

“Then your mind must be unmade,” said Phineas.

What was the nature of the reply to Lord Cantrip the reader may imagine, and thus we will leave our hero an Inspector of Poor Houses in the County of Cork.