But as he went home he thought more of Miss Effingham
than he did of Lady Laura; and I think that the voice
of Miss Effingham had done almost as much towards
comforting him as had the kindness of the other.
At any rate, he had been comforted.
“Do be punctual”
On the very morning after his failure in the House
of Commons, when Phineas was reading in the Telegraph,—he
took the Telegraph not from choice but for
economy,—the words of that debate which
he had heard and in which he should have taken a part,
a most unwelcome visit was paid to him. It was
near eleven, and the breakfast things were still on
the table. He was at this time on a Committee
of the House with reference to the use of potted peas
in the army and navy, at which he had sat once,—at
a preliminary meeting,—and in reference
to which he had already resolved that as he had failed
so frightfully in debate, he would certainly do his
duty to the utmost in the more easy but infinitely
more tedious work of the Committee Room. The
Committee met at twelve, and he intended to walk down
to the Reform Club, and then to the House. He
had just completed his reading of the debate and of
the leaders in the Telegraph on the subject.
He had told himself how little the writer of the article
knew about Mr. Turnbull, how little about Mr. Monk,
and how little about the people,—such being
his own ideas as to the qualifications of the writer
of that leading article,—and was about to
start. But Mrs. Bunce arrested him by telling
him that there was a man below who wanted to see him.
“What sort of a man, Mrs. Bunce?”
“He ain’t a gentleman, sir.”
“Did he give his name?”
“He did not, sir; but I know it’s about
money. I know the ways of them so well.
I’ve seen this one’s face before somewhere.”
“You had better show him up,” said Phineas.
He knew well the business on which the man was come.
The man wanted money for that bill which Laurence
Fitzgibbon had sent afloat, and which Phineas had endorsed.
Phineas had never as yet fallen so deeply into troubles
of money as to make it necessary that he need refuse
himself to any callers on that score, and he did not
choose to do so now. Nevertheless he most heartily
wished that he had left his lodgings for the club before
the man had come. This was not the first he had
heard of the bill being overdue and unpaid. The
bill had been brought to him noted a month since,
and then he had simply told the youth who brought it
that he would see Mr. Fitzgibbon and have the matter
settled. He had spoken to his friend Laurence,
and Laurence had simply assured him that all should
be made right in two days,—or, at furthest,
by the end of a week. Since that time he had
observed that his friend had been somewhat shy of
speaking to him when no others were with them.
Phineas would not have alluded to the bill had he and
Laurence been alone together; but he had been quick
enough to guess from his friend’s manner that
the matter was not settled. Now, no doubt, serious
trouble was about to commence.
