There had been not a word beyond this, and before he answered it he made up his mind to tell Lady Laura the truth. He could not go to Paris because he had no money.
"I've just got that from your brother," said he.
"How like Oswald. He writes to me perhaps three times in the year, and his letters are just the same. You will go I hope?"
"Well;—no."
"I am sorry for that."
"I wonder whether I may tell you the real reason, Lady Laura."
"Nay;—I cannot answer that; but unless it be some political secret between you and Mr. Monk, I should think you might."
"I cannot afford to go to Paris this autumn. It seems to be a shocking admission to make,—though I don't know why it should be."
"Nor I;—but, Mr. Finn, I like you all the better for making it. I am very sorry, for Oswald's sake. It's so hard to find any companion for him whom he would like and whom we,—that is I,—should think altogether—; you know what I mean, Mr. Finn."
"Your wish that I should go with him is a great compliment, and I thoroughly wish that I could do it. As it is, I must go to Killaloe and retrieve my finances. I daresay, Lady Laura, you can hardly conceive how very poor a man I am." There was a melancholy tone about his voice as he said this, which made her think for the moment whether or no he had been right in going into Parliament, and whether she had been right in instigating him to do so. But it was too late to recur to that question now.