“I don’t see why you should have done that.”
“Because I was the biggest fool of the two. Do you remember when that brute got me down under the bank in the river? That was about the nearest touch I ever had. Lord bless me;—how he did squeeze me! So here you are;—staying with the Pallisers—one of a Government party I suppose. But what are you going to do for a seat, my friend?”
“Don’t talk about that yet, Chiltern.”
“A sore subject—isn’t it? I think they have been quite right, you know, to put Loughton into the melting-pot—though I’m sorry enough for your sake.”
“Quite right,” said Phineas.
“And yet you voted against it, old chap? But, come; I’m not going to be down upon you. So my father has been here?”
“Yes;—he was here for a day or two.”
“Violet has just been telling me. You and he are as good friends as ever?”
“I trust we are.”
“He never heard of that little affair?” And Lord Chiltern nodded his head, intending to indicate the direction of Blankenberg.
“I do not think he has yet.”
“So Violet tells me. Of course you know that she has heard all about it.”
“I have reason to suppose as much.”
“And so does Laura.”
“I told her myself,” said Phineas.
“The deuce you did! But I daresay it was for the best. It’s a pity you had not proclaimed it at Charing Cross, and then nobody would have believed a word about it. Of course my father will hear it some day.”
“You are going to Saulsby, I hope, Chiltern?”
“That question is easier asked than answered. It is quite true that the great difficulty has been got over. Laura has had her money. And if my father will only acknowledge that he has wronged me throughout, from beginning to end, I will go to Saulsby tomorrow;—and would cut you out at Loughton the next day, only that Loughton is not Loughton any longer.”
“You cannot expect your father to do that.”
“No;—and therefore there is a difficulty. So you’ve had that awfully ponderous Duke here. How did you get on with him?”
“Admirably. He condescended to do something which he called shaking hands with me.”
“He is the greatest old dust out,” said Lord Chiltern, disrespectfully. “Did he take any notice of Violet?”
“Not that I observed.”
“He ought not to be allowed into the same room with her.” After that there was a short pause, and Phineas felt some hesitation in speaking of Miss Effingham to Lord Chiltern. “And how do you get on with her?” asked Lord Chiltern. Here was a question for a man to answer. The question was so hard to be answered, that Phineas did not at first make any attempt to answer it. “You know exactly the ground that I stand on,” continued Lord Chiltern. “She has refused me three times. Have you been more fortunate?”
Lord Chiltern, as he asked his question, looked full into Finn’s face in a manner that was irresistible. His look was not one of anger nor even of pride. It was not, indeed, without a strong dash of fun. But such as it was it showed Phineas that Lord Chiltern intended to have an answer. “No,” said he at last, “I have not been more fortunate.”
“Perhaps you have changed your mind,” said his host.
“No;—I have not changed my mind,” said Phineas, quickly.
“How stands it then? Come;—let us be honest to each other. I told you down at Willingford that I would quarrel with any man who attempted to cut me out with Violet Effingham. You made up your mind that you would do so, and therefore I quarrelled with you. But we can’t always be fighting duels.”
“I hope we may not have to fight another.”
“No;—it would be absurd,” said Lord Chiltern. “I rather think that what we did was absurd. But upon my life I did not see any other way out of it. However, that is over. How is it to be now?”
“What am I to say in answer to that?” asked Phineas.
“Just the truth. You have asked her, I suppose?”
“Yes;—I have asked her.”
“And she has refused you?”
“Yes;—she has refused me.”
“And you mean to ask her again?”
“I shall;—if I ever think that there is a chance. Indeed, Chiltern, I believe I shall whether I think that I have any chance or not.”
“Then we start fairly, Finn. I certainly shall do so. I believe I once told you that I never would;—but that was long before I suspected that you would enter for the same plate. What a man says on such a matter when he is down in the mouth goes for nothing. Now we understand each other, and you had better go and dress. The bell rang nearly half an hour ago, and my fellow is hanging about outside the door.”
The interview had in one respect been very pleasant to Phineas, and in another it had been very bitter. It was pleasant to him to know that he and Lord Chiltern were again friends. It was a delight to him to feel that this half-savage but high-spirited young nobleman, who had been so anxious to fight with him and to shoot him, was nevertheless ready to own that he had behaved well. Lord Chiltern had in fact acknowledged that though he had been anxious to blow out our hero’s brains, he was aware all the time that our hero was a good sort of fellow. Phineas understood this, and felt that it was pleasant. But with this understanding, and accompanying this pleasure, there was a conviction in his heart that the distance between Lord Chiltern and Violet would daily grow to be less and still less—and that Lord Chiltern could afford to be generous. If Miss Effingham could teach herself to be fond of Lord Chiltern, what had he, Phineas Finn, to offer in opposition to the claims of such a suitor?
That evening Lord Chiltern took Miss Effingham out to dinner. Phineas told himself that this was of course so
