le and
shake in my shoes as I walk about and think of what might have been
done." Then Phineas gave his hand to Sir Gregory, and from that time
forth was inclined to think well of Sir Gregory.

Throughout the whole evening he was unable to speak to Madame
Goesler, but to the other people around him he found himself talking
quite at his ease, as though nothing peculiar had happened to him.
Almost everybody, except the Duke, made some slight allusion to his
adventure, and he, in spite of his resolution to the contrary, found
himself driven to talk of it. It had seemed quite natural that Sir
Gregory,--who had in truth been eager for his condemnation, thinking
him to have been guilty,--should come to him and make peace with him
by telling him of the nature of the work that had been imposed upon
him;--and when Sir Harry Coldfoot assured him that never in his life
had his mind been relieved of so heavy a weight as when he received
the information about the key,--that also was natural. A few days ago
he had thought that these allusions would kill him. The prospect of
them had kept him a prisoner in his lodgings; but now he smiled and
chatted, and was quiet and at ease.

"Good-night, Mr. Finn," the Duchess said to him, "I know the people
have been boring you."

"Not in the least."

"I saw Sir Gregory at it, and I can guess what Sir Gregory was
talking about."

"I like Sir Gregory, Duchess."

"That shows a very Christian disposition on your part. And then there
was Sir Harry. I understood it all, but I could not hinder it. But it
had to be done, hadn't it?--And now there will be an end of it."

"Everybody has treated me very well," said Phineas, almost in tears.
"Some people have been so kind to me that I cannot understand why it
should have been so."

"Because some people are your very excellent good friends. We,--that
is, Marie and I, you know,--thought it would be the best thing for
you to come down and get through it all here. We could see that you
weren't driven too hard. By the bye, you have hardly seen her,--have
you?"

"Hardly, since I was upstairs with your Grace."

"My Grace will manage better for you to-morrow. I didn't like to tell
you to take her out to dinner, because it would have looked a little
particular after her very remarkable journey to Prague. If you ain't
grateful you must be a wretch."

"But I am grateful."

"Well; we shall see. Good-night. You'll find a lot of men going to
smoke somewh