Mr. Monk had much experience, and
doubtless knew what he was saying,--and there might yet be hope. But
all this hope faded away when Phineas was in his own rooms. There
came upon him, as he looked round them, an idea that he had no
business to be in Parliament, that he was an impostor, that he was
going about the world under false pretences, and that he would never
set himself aright, even unto himself, till he had gone through some
terrible act of humiliation. He had been a cheat even to Mr. Quintus
Slide of the _Banner_, in accepting an invitation to come among
them. He had been a cheat to Lady Laura, in that he had induced
her to think that he was fit to live with her. He was a cheat to
Violet Effingham, in assuming that he was capable of making himself
agreeable to her. He was a cheat to Lord Chiltern when riding his
horses, and pretending to be a proper associate for a man of fortune.
Why,--what was his income? What his birth? What his proper position?
And now he had got the reward which all cheats deserve. Then he went
to bed, and as he lay there, he thought of Mary Flood Jones. Had he
plighted his troth to Mary, and then worked like a slave under Mr.
Low's auspices,--he would not have been a cheat.
It seemed to him that he had hardly been asleep when the girl
came into his room in the morning.
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