House into fractions, Mr. Mildmay’s Cabinet was
allowed to hold its own in comparative peace and quiet.
It was now July,—the middle of July,—and
the member for Loughshane had not yet addressed the
House. How often had he meditated doing so; how
he had composed his speeches walking round the Park
on his way down to the House; how he got his subjects
up,—only to find on hearing them discussed
that he really knew little or nothing about them;
how he had his arguments and almost his very words
taken out of his mouth by some other member; and lastly,
how he had actually been deterred from getting upon
his legs by a certain tremor of blood round his heart
when the moment for rising had come,—of
all this he never said a word to any man. Since
that last journey to county Mayo, Laurence Fitzgibbon
had been his most intimate friend, but he said nothing
of all this even to Laurence Fitzgibbon. To his
other friend, Lady Laura Standish, he did explain
something of his feelings, not absolutely describing
to her the extent of hindrance to which his modesty
had subjected him, but letting her know that he had
his qualms as well as his aspirations. But as
Lady Laura always recommended patience, and more than
once expressed her opinion that a young member would
be better to sit in silence at least for one session,
he was not driven to the mortification of feeling
that he was incurring her contempt by his bashfulness.
As regarded the men among whom he lived, I think he
was almost annoyed at finding that no one seemed to
expect that he should speak. Barrington Erle,
when he had first talked of sending Phineas down to
Loughshane, had predicted for him all manner of parliamentary
successes, and had expressed the warmest admiration
of the manner in which Phineas had discussed this
or that subject at the Union. “We have
not above one or two men in the House who can do that
kind of thing,” Barrington Erle had once said.
But now no allusions whatever were made to his powers
of speech, and Phineas in his modest moments began
to be more amazed than ever that he should find himself
seated in that chamber.
To the forms and technicalities of parliamentary business he did give close attention, and was unremitting in his attendance. On one or two occasions he ventured to ask a question of the Speaker, and as the words of experience fell into his ears, he would tell himself that he was going through his education,—that he was learning to be a working member, and perhaps to be a statesman. But his regrets with reference to Mr. Low and the dingy chambers in Old Square were very frequent; and had it been possible for him to undo all that he had done, he would often have abandoned to some one else the honour of representing the electors of Loughshane.