Part 105 (1/2)
”I cannot afford it.”
”Psha! Some five hundred pounds or so!”
”And, besides that, I am well aware that my only chance at my old profession is to give up all idea of Parliament. The two things are not compatible for a beginner at the law. I know it now, and have bought my knowledge by a bitter experience.”
”And where will you live?”
”In Dublin, probably.”
”And you will do,--will do what?”
”Anything honest in a barrister's way that may be brought to me. I hope that I may never descend below that.”
”You will stand up for all the blackguards, and try to make out that the thieves did not steal?”
”It may be that that sort of work may come in my way.”
”And you will wear a wig and try to look wise?”
”The wig is not universal in Ireland, Madame Goesler.”
”And you will wrangle, as though your very soul were in it, for somebody's twenty pounds?”
”Exactly.”
”You have already made a name in the greatest senate in the world, and have governed other countries larger than your own--”
”No;--I have not done that. I have governed no country.
”I tell you, my friend, that you cannot do it. It is out of the question. Men may move forward from little work to big work; but they cannot move back and do little work, when they have had tasks which were really great. I tell you, Mr. Finn, that the House of Parliament is the place for you to work in. It is the only place;--that and the abodes of Ministers. Am not I your friend who tell you this?”
”I know that you are my friend.”
”And will you not credit me when I tell you this? What do you fear, that you should run away? You have no wife;--no children. What is the coming misfortune that you dread?” She paused a moment as though for an answer, and he felt that now had come the time in which it would be well that he should tell her of his engagement with his own Mary.
She had received him very playfully; but now within the last few minutes there had come upon her a seriousness of gesture, and almost a solemnity of tone, which made him conscious that he should in no way trifle with her. She was so earnest in her friends.h.i.+p that he owed it to her to tell her everything. But before he could think of the words in which his tale should be told, she had gone on with her quick questions. ”Is it solely about money that you fear?” she said.
”It is simply that I have no income on which to live.”
”Have I not offered you money?”
”But, Madame Goesler, you who offer it would yourself despise me if I took it.”
”No;--I do deny it.” As she said this,--not loudly but with much emphasis,--she came and stood before him where he was sitting. And as he looked at her he could perceive that there was a strength about her of which he had not been aware. She was stronger, larger, more robust physically than he had hitherto conceived. ”I do deny it,” she said. ”Money is neither G.o.d nor devil, that it should make one n.o.ble and another vile. It is an accident, and, if honestly possessed, may pa.s.s from you to me, or from me to you, without a stain. You may take my dinner from me if I give it you, my flowers, my friends.h.i.+p, my,--my,--my everything, but my money! Explain to me the cause of the phenomenon. If I give to you a thousand pounds, now this moment, and you take it, you are base;--but if I leave it you in my will,--and die,--you take it, and are not base. Explain to me the cause of that.”
”You have not said it quite all,” said Phineas hoa.r.s.ely.
”What have I left unsaid? If I have left anything unsaid, do you say the rest.”