of her sex in which are generally found so many charms. Her hands
and feet were large,--as was her whole frame. Such was Lady Laura
Standish; and Phineas Finn had been untrue to himself and to his own
appreciation of the lady when he had described her in disparaging
terms to Mary Flood Jones. But, though he had spoken of Lady Laura
in disparaging terms, he had so spoken of her as to make Miss Flood
Jones quite understand that he thought a great deal about Lady Laura.

And now, early on the Sunday, he made his way to Portman Square in
order that he might learn whether there might be any sympathy for him
there. Hitherto he had found none. Everything had been terribly dry
and hard, and he had gathered as yet none of the fruit which he had
expected that his good fortune would bear for him. It is true that he
had not as yet gone among any friends, except those of his club, and
men who were in the House along with him;--and at the club it might
be that there were some who envied him his good fortune, and others
who thought nothing of it because it had been theirs for years. Now
he would try a friend who, he hoped, could sympathise; and therefore
he called in Portman Square at about half-past two on the Sunday
morning. Yes,--Lady Laura was in the drawing-room. The hall-porter
admitted as much, but evidently seemed to think that he had been
disturbed from his dinner before his time. Phineas did not care a
straw for the hall-porter. If Lady Laura were not kind to him, he
would never trouble that hall-porter again. He was especially sore at
this moment because a valued friend, the barrister with whom he had
been reading for the last three years, had spent the best part of
an hour that Sunday morning in proving to him that he had as good
as ruined himself. "When I first heard it, of course I thought you
had inherited a fortune," said Mr. Low. "I have inherited nothing,"
Phineas replied;--"not a penny; and I never shall." Then Mr. Low had