Lady Laura Standish is the best character in _Phineas Finn_ and its sequel _Phineas Redux_,--of which I will speak here together. They are, in fact, but one novel, though they were brought out at a considerable interval of time and in different form. The first was commenced in the _St. Paul's Magazine_ in 1867, and the other was brought out in the _Graphic_ in 1873. In this there was much bad arrangement, as I had no right to expect that novel-readers would remember the characters of a story after an interval of six years, or that any little interest which might have been taken in the career of my hero could then have been renewed. I do not know that such interest was renewed. But I found that the sequel enjoyed the same popularity as the former part, and among the same class of readers. Phineas, and Lady Laura, and Lady Chiltern--as Violet had become--and the old duke,--whom I killed gracefully, and the new duke, and the young duchess, either kept their old friends or made new friends for themselves. _Phineas Finn_, I certainly think, was successful from first to last. I am aware, however, that there was nothing in it to touch the heart like the abasement of Lady Mason when confessing her guilt to her old lover, or any approach in delicacy of delineation to the character of Mr. Crawley. _Phineas Finn_, the first part of the story, was completed in May, 1867. In June and July I wrote _Linda Tressel_ for _Blackwood's Magazine_, of which I have already spoken. In September and October I wrote a short novel, called _The Golden Lion of Granpère_, which was intended also for _Blackwood_,--with a view of being published anonymously; but Mr. Blackwood did not find the arrangement to be profitable, and the story remained on my hands, unread and unthought of, for a few years. It appeared subsequently in _Good Words_. It was written on the model of _Nina Balatka_ and _Linda Tressel_, but is very inferior to either of them. In November of the same year, 1867, I began a very long novel, which I called _He Knew He Was Right_, and which was brought out by Mr. Virtue, the proprietor of the _St. Paul's Magazine_, in sixpenny numbers, every week. I do not know that in any literary effort I ever fell more completely short of my own intention than in this story. It was my purpose to create sympathy for the unfortunate man who, while endeavouring to do his duty to all around him, should be led constantly astray by his unwillingness to submit his own judgment to the opinion of others. The man is made to be unfortunate enough, and the evil which he does is apparent. So far I did not fail, but the sympathy has not been created yet. I look upon the story as being nearly altogether bad. It is in part redeemed by certain scenes in the house and vicinity of an old maid in Exeter. But a novel which in its main parts is bad cannot, in truth, be redeemed by the vitality of subordinate characters.