e that to say such
things of you, why, by heaven, any man may say anything of anybody."

Now Phineas could hardly explain to Lord Chiltern his objection to
the proposed action. A lady was closely concerned, and that lady was
Lord Chiltern's sister. "I certainly shall not," said Phineas.

"And why?"

"Just because he wishes me to do it. I should be falling into the
little pit that he has dug for me."

"He couldn't hurt you. What have you got to be afraid of? Ruat
coelum."

"There are certain angels, Chiltern, living up in that heaven which
you wish me to pull about our ears, as to whom, if all their heart
and all their wishes and all their doings could be known, nothing but
praise could be spoken; but who would still be dragged with soiled
wings through the dirt if this man were empowered to bring witness
after witness into court. My wife would be named. For aught I know,
your wife."

"By G----, he'd find himself wrong there."

"Leave a chimney-sweep alone when you see him, Chiltern. Should
he run against you, then remember that it is one of the necessary
penalties of clean linen that it is apt to be soiled."

"I'm d----d if I'd let him off."

"Yes you would, old fellow. When you come to see clearly what you
would gain and what you would lose, you would not meddle with him."

His wife was at first inclined to think that an action should be
taken, but she was more easily convinced than Lord Chiltern. "I had
not thought," she said, "of poor Lady Laura. But is it not horrible
that a man should be able to go on like that, and that there should
be no punishment?" In answer to this he only shrugged his shoulders.

But the greatest pressure came upon him from another source. He did
not in truth suffer much himself from what was said in the "People's
Banner." He had become used to the "People's Banner" and had found
out that in no relation of life was he less pleasantly situated
because of the maledictions heaped upon him in the columns of that
newspaper. His position in public life did not seem to be weakened by
them. His personal friends did not fall off because of them. Those
who loved him did not love him less. It had not been so with him
always, but now, at last, he was hardened against Mr. Quintus Slide.
But the poor Duke was by no means equally strong. This attack upon
him, this denunciation of his cruelty, this assurance that he had
caused the death of Ferdinand Lopez, was very grievous to him. It
was not