Another old friend, of whom former chronicles were not silent, was at the Duchess's that night, and there came across Mrs. Finn. This was Barrington Erle, a politician of long standing, who was still looked upon by many as a young man, because he had always been known as a young man, and because he had never done anything to compromise his position in that respect. He had not married, or settled himself down in a house of his own, or become subject to gout, or given up being careful about the fitting of his clothes. No doubt the grey hairs were getting the better of the black hairs, both on his head and face, and marks of coming crows' feet were to be seen if you looked close at him, and he had become careful about his great-coat and umbrella. He was in truth much nearer fifty than forty;--nevertheless he was felt in the House and among Cabinet Ministers, and among the wives of members and Cabinet Ministers, to be a young man still. And when he was invited to become Secretary for Ireland it was generally felt that he was too young for the place. He declined it, however; and when he went to the Post-office, the gentlemen there all felt that they had had a boy put over them. Phineas Finn, who had become Secretary for Ireland, was in truth ten years his junior. But Phineas Finn had been twice married, and had gone through other phases of life, such as make a man old. "How does Phineas like it?" Erle asked. Phineas Finn and Barrington Erle had gone through some political struggles together, and had been very intimate. "I hope not very much," said the lady. "Why so? Because he's away so much?" "No;--not that. I should not grudge his absence if the work satisfied him. But I know him so well. The more he takes to it now,--the more sanguine he is as to some special thing to be done,--the more bitter will be the disappointment when he is disappointed. For there never really is anything special to be done;--is there, Mr. Erle?" "I think there is always a little too much zeal about Finn." "Of course there is. And then with zeal there always goes a thin skin,--and unjustifiable expectations, and biting despair, and contempt of others, and all the elements of unhappiness." "That is a sad programme for your husband." "He has recuperative faculties which bring him round at last:--but I really doubt whether he was made for a politician in this country. You remember Lord Brock?" "Dear old Brock;--of course I do. How should I not, if you remember him?"