to hate either a man or a woman, she generally hated on
to the end. No Paradise could be too charming for her friends; no
Pandemonium too frightful for her enemies. In reference to Mr. Lopez
she would have said, if interrogated, that she had taken the man up
in obedience to her husband. But in truth she had liked the look and
the voice of the man. Her husband before now had recommended men to
her notice and kindness, whom at the first trial she had rejected
from her good-will, and whom she had continued to reject ever
afterwards, let her husband's urgency be what it might.

Another old friend, of whom former chronicles were not silent, was at
the Duchess's that night, and there came across Mrs. Finn. This was
Barrington Erle, a politician of long standing, who was still looked
upon by many as a young man, because he had always been known as a
young man, and because he had never done anything to compromise his
position in that respect. He had not married, or settled himself down
in a house of his own, or become subject to gout, or given up being
careful about the fitting of his clothes. No doubt the grey hairs
were getting the better of the black hairs, both on his head and
face, and marks of coming crows' feet were to be seen if you looked
close at him, and he had become careful about his great-coat and
umbrella. He was in truth much nearer fifty than forty;--nevertheless
he was felt in the House and among Cabinet Ministers, and among the
wives of members and Cabinet Ministers, to be a young man still. And
when he was invited to become Secretary for Ireland it was generally
felt that he was too young for the place. He declined it, however;
and when he went to the Post-office, the gentlemen there all felt
that they had had a boy put over them. Phineas Finn, who had become
Secretary for Ireland, was in truth ten years his junior. But Phineas
Finn had been twice married, and had gone through other phases of
life, such as make a man old. "How does Phineas like it?" Erle asked.
Phineas Finn and Barrington Erle had gone through some political
struggles together, and had been very intimate.

"I hope not very much," said the lady.

"Why so? Because he's away so much?"

"No;--not that. I should not grudge his absence if the work satisfied
him. But I know him so well. The more he takes to it now,--the more
sanguine he is as to some special thing to be done,--the more bitter
will be the disappointment when he is disappointed.