“I pique myself on this, that whether Bohemian or not, I will go nowhere that I am not wanted. Though—for the matter of that, I suppose I’m not wanted here.” Then Phineas gave him the message from his father. “He wishes to see me tomorrow morning?” continued Lord Chiltern. “Let him send me word what it is he has to say to me. I do not choose to be insulted by him, though he is my father.”
“I would certainly go, if I were you.”
“I doubt it very much, if all the circumstances were the same. Let him tell me what he wants.”
“Of course I cannot ask him, Chiltern.”
“I know what he wants very well. Laura has been interfering and doing no good. You know Violet Effingham?”
“Yes; I know her,” said Phineas, much surprised.
“They want her to marry me.”
“And you do not wish to marry her?”
“I did not say that. But do you think that such a girl as Miss Effingham would marry such a man as I am? She would be much more likely to take you. By George, she would! Do you know that she has three thousand a year of her own?”
“I know that she has money.”
“That’s about the tune of it. I would take her without a shilling tomorrow, if she would have me—because I like her. She is the only girl I ever did like. But what is the use of my liking her? They have painted me so black among them, especially my father, that no decent girl would think of marrying me.”
“Your father can’t be angry with you if you do your best to comply with his wishes.”
“I don’t care a straw whether he be angry or not. He allows me eight hundred a year, and he knows that if he stopped it I should go to the Jews the next day. I could not help myself. He can’t leave an acre away from me, and yet he won’t join me in raising money for the sake of paying Laura her fortune.”
“Lady Laura can hardly want money now.”
“That detestable prig whom she has chosen to marry, and whom I hate with all my heart, is richer than ever Croesus was; but nevertheless Laura ought to have her own money. She shall have it some day.”
“I would see Lord Brentford, if I were you.”
“I will think about it. Now tell me about coming down to Willingford. Laura says you will come some day in March. I can mount you for a couple of days and should be delighted to have you. My horses all pull like the mischief, and rush like devils, and want a deal of riding; but an Irishman likes that.”
“I do not dislike it particularly.”
“I like it. I prefer to have something to do on horseback. When a man tells me that a horse is an armchair, I always tell him to put the brute into his bedroom. Mind you come. The house I stay at is called the Willingford Bull, and it’s just four miles from Peterborough.” Phineas swore that he would go down and ride the pulling horses, and then took his leave, earnestly advising Lord Chiltern, as he went, to keep the appointment proposed by his father.
When the morning came, at half-past eleven, the son, who had been standing for half an hour with his back to the fire in the large gloomy dining-room, suddenly rang the bell. “Tell the Earl,” he said to the servant, “that I am here and will go to him if he wishes it.” The servant came back, and said that the Earl was waiting. Then Lord Chiltern strode after the man into his father’s room.
“Oswald,” said the father, “I have sent for you because I think it may be as well to speak to you on some business. Will you sit down?” Lord Chiltern sat down, but did not answer a word. “I feel very unhappy about your sister’s fortune,” said the Earl.
“So do I—very unhappy. We can raise the money between us, and pay her tomorrow, if you please it.”
“It was in opposition to my advice that she paid your debts.”
“And in opposition to mine too.”
“I told her that I would not pay them, and were I to give her back tomorrow, as you say, the money that she has so used, I should be stultifying myself. But I will do so on one condition. I will join with you in raising the money for your sister, on one condition.”
“What is that?”
“Laura tells me—indeed she has told me often—that you are attached to Violet Effingham.”
“But Violet Effingham, my lord, is unhappily not attached to me.”
“I do not know how that may be. Of course I cannot say. I have never taken the liberty of interrogating her upon the subject.”
“Even you, my lord, could hardly have done that.”
“What do you mean by that? I say that I never have,” said the Earl, angrily.
“I simply mean that even you could hardly have asked Miss Effingham such a question. I have asked her, and she has refused me.”
“But girls often do that, and yet accept afterwards the men whom they have refused. Laura tells me that she believes that Violet would consent if you pressed your suit.”
“Laura knows nothing about it, my lord.”
“There you are probably wrong. Laura and Violet are very close friends, and have no doubt discussed this matter between them. At any rate, it may be as well that you should hear what I have to say. Of course I shall not interfere myself. There is no ground on which I can do so with propriety.”
“None whatever,” said Lord Chiltern.
The Earl became very angry, and nearly broke down in his anger. He paused for a moment, feeling disposed to tell his son to go and never to see him again. But he gulped down his wrath, and went on with his speech. “My meaning, sir, is this;—that I have so great faith in Violet Effingham, that I would receive her
