rd or a gambler may be
weaned from his ways, but not a politician. To have been in the House
and not to be there was, to such a one as Phineas Finn, necessarily,
a state of discontent. But now he had worked his way up again, and
he was determined that no fears for the future should harass him. He
would give his heart and soul to the work while his money lasted. It
would surely last him for the Session. He was all alone in the world,
and would trust to the chapter of accidents for the future.
"I never knew a fellow with such luck as yours," said Barrington Erle
to him, on his return to London. "A seat always drops into your mouth
when the circumstances seem to be most forlorn."
"I have been lucky, certainly."
"My cousin, Laura Kennedy, has been writing to me about you."
"I went over to see them, you know."
"So I heard. She talks some nonsense about the Earl being willing to
do anything for you. What could the Earl do? He has no more influence
in the Loughton borough than I have. All that kind of thing is clean
done for,--with one or two exceptions. We got much better men while
it lasted than we do now."
"I should doubt that."
"We did;--much truer men,--men who went straighter. By the bye,
Phineas, we must have no tricks on this Church matter. We mean to do
all we can to throw out the second reading."
"You know what I said at the hustings."
"D---- the hustings. I know what Browborough said, and Browborough
voted like a man with his party. You were against the Church at the
hustings, and he was for it. You will vote just the other way. There
will be a little confusion, but the people of Tankerville will never
remember the particulars."
"I don't know that I can do that."
"By heavens, if you don't, you shall never more be officer of
ours,--though Laura Kennedy should cry her eyes out."
CHAPTER XIV
Trumpeton Wood
In the meantime the hunting season was going on in the Brake country
with chequered success. There had arisen the great Trumpeton Wood
question, about which the sporting world was doomed to hear so much
for the next twelve months,--and Lord Chiltern was in an unhappy
state of mind. Trumpeton Wood belonged to that old friend of ours,
the Duke of Omnium, who had now almost fallen into second childhood.
It was quite out of the question that the Duke should himself
interfere in such a matter, or know anything about it; but Lord
Chiltern, with headstrong resolution, had persisted i
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