Phineas knew when to find Lady Laura alone, and he came upon her one day at the favourable hour.  The two first clauses of the bill had been passed after twenty fights and endless divisions.  Two points had been settled, as to which, however, Mr. Gresham had been driven to give way so far and to yield so much, that men declared that such a bill as the Government could consent to call its own could never be passed by that Parliament in that session.  Immediately on his entrance into her room Lady Laura began about the third clause.  Would the House let Mr. Gresham have his way about the—?  Phineas stopped her at once.  “My dear friend,” he said, “I have come to you in a private trouble, and I want you to drop politics for half an hour.  I have come to you for help.”

“A private trouble, Mr. Finn!  Is it serious?”

“It is very serious,—­but it is no trouble of the kind of which you are thinking.  But it is serious enough to take up every thought.”

“Can I help you?”

“Indeed you can.  Whether you will or no is a different thing.”

“I would help you in anything in my power, Mr. Finn.  Do you not know it?”

“You have been very kind to me!”

“And so would Mr. Kennedy.”

“Mr. Kennedy cannot help me here.”

“What is it, Mr. Finn?”

“I suppose I may as well tell you at once,—­in plain language, I do not know how to put my story into words that shall fit it.  I love Violet Effingham.  Will you help me to win her to be my wife?”

“You love Violet Effingham!” said Lady Laura.  And as she spoke the look of her countenance towards him was so changed that he became at once aware that from her no assistance might be expected.  His eyes were not opened in any degree to the second reason above given for Lady Laura’s opposition to his wishes, but he instantly perceived that she would still cling to that destination of Violet’s hand which had for years past been the favourite scheme of her life.  “Have you not always known, Mr. Finn, what have been our hopes for Violet?”

Phineas, though he had perceived his mistake, felt that he must go on with his cause.  Lady Laura must know his wishes sooner or later, and it was as well that she should learn them in this way as in any other.  “Yes;—­but I have known also, from your brother’s own lips,—­and indeed from yours also, Lady Laura,—­that Chiltern has been three times refused by Miss Effingham.”

“What does that matter?  Do men never ask more than three times?”

“And must I be debarred for ever while he prosecutes a hopeless suit?”

“Yes;—­you of all men.”

“Why so, Lady Laura?”