CONCLUSION.
There remains to us the very easy task of collecting together the
ends of the thread of our narrative, and tying them into a simple
knot, so that there may be no unravelling. Of Mr. Emilius it has been
already said that his good fortune clung to him so far that it was
found impossible to connect him with the tragedy of Bolton Row. But
he was made to vanish for a certain number of years from the world,
and dear little Lizzie Eustace was left a free woman. When last we
heard of her she was at Naples, and there was then a rumour that
she was about to join her fate to that of Lord George de Bruce
Carruthers, with whom pecuniary matters had lately not been going
comfortably. Let us hope that the match, should it be a match, may
lead to the happiness and respectability of both of them.
As all the world knows, Lord and Lady Chiltern still live at
Harrington Hall, and he has been considered to do very well with
the Brake country. He still grumbles about Trumpeton Wood, and says
that it will take a lifetime to repair the injuries done by Mr.
Fothergill;--but then who ever knew a Master of Hounds who wasn't
ill-treated by the owners of coverts?
Of Mr. Tom Spooner it can only be said that he is still a bachelor,
living with his cousin Ned, and that none of the neighbours expect
to see a lady at Spoon Hall. In one winter, after the period of his
misfortune, he became slack about his hunting, and there were rumours
that he was carrying out that terrible threat of his as to the
crusade which he would go to find a cure for his love. But his cousin
took him in hand somewhat sharply, made him travel abroad during the
summer, and brought him out the next season, "as fresh as paint,"
as the members of the Brake Hunt declared. It was known to every
sportsman in the country that poor Mr. Spooner had been in love; but
the affair was allowed to be a mystery, and no one ever spoke to
Spooner himself upon the subject. It is probable that he now reaps no
slight amount of gratification from his memory of the romance.
The marriage between Gerard Maule and Adelaide Palliser was
celebrated with great glory at Matching, and was mentioned in all the
leading papers as an alliance in high life. When it became known to
Mr. Maule, Senior, that this would be so, and that the lady would
have a very considerable fortune from the old Duke, he reconciled
himself to the marriage altogether, and at once gave way in that
matter of Maule Abbey. Nothing he thought would be more suitable than
that the young people should live at the old family place. So Maule
Abbey was fitted up, and Mr. and Mrs. Maule have taken up their
residence there. Under the influence of his wife he has promised to
attend to his farming, and proposes to do no more than go out and see
the hounds when they come into his neighbourhood. Let us hope that he
may prosper. Should the farming come to a good end more will probably
have been due to his wife's enterprise than to his own. The energetic
father is, as all the world knows, now in pursuit of a widow with
three thousand a year who has lately come out in Cavendish Square.
Of poor Lord Fawn no good account can be given. To his thinking,
official life had none of those drawbacks with which the fantastic
feelings of Phineas Finn had invested it. He could have been happy
for ever at the India Board or at the Colonial Office;--but his life
was made a burden to him by the affair of the Bonteen murder. He was
charged with having nearly led to the fatal catastrophe of Phineas
Finn's condemnation by his erroneous evidence, and he could not bear
the accusation. Then came the further affair of Mr. Emilius, and his
mind gave way;--and he disappeared. Let us hope that he may return
some day with renewed health, and again be of service to his country.
Poetical justice reached Mr. Quintus Slide of The People's Banner.
The acquittal and following glories of Phineas Finn were gall and
wormwood to him; and he continued his attack upon the member for
Tankerville even after it was known that he had refused office, and
was about to be married to Madame Goesler. In these attacks he made
allusions to Lady Laura which brought Lord Chiltern down upon him,
and there was an action for libel. The paper had to pay damages and
costs, and the proprietors resolved that Mr. Quintus Slide was too
energetic for their purposes. He is now earning his bread in some
humble capacity on the staff of The Ballot Box,--which is supposed
to be the most democratic daily newspaper published in London. Mr.
Slide has, however, expressed his intention of seeking his fortune in
New York.
Laurence Fitzgibbon certainly did himself a good turn by his obliging
deference to the opinion of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. He has
been in office ever since. It must be acknowledged of all our leading
statesmen that gratitude for such services is their characteristic.
It is said that he spends much of his eloquence in endeavouring to
make his wife believe that the air of County Mayo is the sweetest in
the world. Hitherto, since his marriage, this eloquence has been
thrown away, for she has always been his companion through the
Session in London.
It is rumoured that Barrington Erle is to be made Secretary for
Ireland, but his friends doubt whether the office will suit him.
The marriage between Marie Goesler and our hero did not take place
till October, and then they went abroad for the greater part of the
winter, Phineas having received leave of absence officially from
the Speaker and unofficially from his constituents. After all that
he had gone through it was acknowledged that so much ease should
be permitted to him. They went first to Vienna, and then back into
Italy, and were unheard of by their English friends for nearly six
months. In April they reappeared in London, and the house in Park
Lane was opened with great _éclat_. Of Phineas every one says that
of all living men he has been the most fortunate. The present writer
will not think so unless he shall soon turn his hand to some useful
task. Those who know him best say that he will of course go into
office before long.
Of poor Lady Laura hardly a word need be said. She lives at Saulsby
the life of a recluse, and the old Earl her father is still alive.
The Duke, as all the world knows, is on the very eve of success with
the decimal coinage. But his hair is becoming grey, and his back is
becoming bent; and men say that he will never live as long as his
uncle. But then he will have done a great thing,--and his uncle did
only little things. Of the Duchess no word need be said. Nothing will
ever change the Duchess.