voury beasts, elbowed on every side by
the Sunday visitors to the garden, he made up his mind that he would
first let Lady Laura understand what were his intentions with regard
to his future career, and then he would ask her to join her lot to
his. At every turn the chances would of course be very much against
him;--ten to one against him, perhaps, on every point; but it was his
lot in life to have to face such odds. Twelve months since it had
been much more than ten to one against his getting into Parliament;
and yet he was there. He expected to be blown into fragments,--to
sheep-skinning in Australia, or packing preserved meats on the plains
of Paraguay; but when the blowing into atoms should come, he was
resolved that courage to bear the ruin should not be wanting. Then he
quoted a line or two of a Latin poet, and felt himself to be
comfortable.

"So, here you are again, Mr. Finn," said a voice in his ear.

"Yes, Miss Fitzgibbon; here I am again."

"I fancied you members of Parliament had something else to do besides
looking at wild beasts. I thought you always spent Sunday in
arranging how you might most effectually badger each other on
Monday."

"We got through all that early this morning, Miss Fitzgibbon, while
you were saying your prayers."

"Here is Mr. Kennedy too;--you know him I daresay. He also is a
member; but then he can afford to be idle." But it so happened that
Phineas did not know Mr. Kennedy, and consequently there was some
slight form of introduction.

"I believe I am to meet you at dinner on Wednesday,"--said
Phineas,--"at Lord Brentford's."

"And me too," said Miss Fitzgibbon.

"Which will be the greatest possible addition to our pleasure," said
Phineas.

Mr. Kennedy, who seemed to be afflicted with some difficulty in
speaking, and whose bow to our hero had hardly done more than produce
the slightest possible motion to the top of his hat, hereupon
muttered something which was taken to mean an assent to the
proposition as to Wednesday's dinner. Then he stood perfectly still,
with his two hands fixed on the top of his umbrella, and gazed at the
great monkeys' cage. But it was clear that he was not looking at any
special monkey, for his eyes never wandered.

"Did you ever see such a contrast in your life?" said Miss Fitzgibbon
to Phineas,--hardly in a whisper.

"Between what?" said Phineas.

"Between Mr. Kennedy and a monkey. The monkey has so much to say for
himself, and is so delig