"There were expenses to which I was driven on first entering Parliament." "A hundred pounds." "If it be inconvenient, sir, I can do without it." He had not as yet paid for his gun, or for that velvet coat in which he had been shooting, or, most probably, for the knickerbockers.

He knew he wanted the hundred pounds badly; but he felt ashamed of himself in asking for it.

If he were once in office,--though the office were but a sorry junior lordship,--he would repay his father instantly.
"You shall have it, of course," said the doctor; "but do not let the necessity for asking for more hundreds come oftener than you can help." Phineas said that he would not, and then there was no further discourse about money.

It need hardly be said that he told his father nothing of that bill which he had endorsed for Laurence Fitzgibbon.
At last came the time which called him again to London and the glories of London life,--to lobbies, and the clubs, and the gossip of men in office, and the chance of promotion for himself; to the glare of the gas-lamps, the mock anger of rival debaters, and the prospect of the Speaker's wig.

During the idleness of the recess he had resolved at any rate upon this,--that a month of the session should not have passed by before he had been seen upon his legs in the House,--had been seen and heard.