“All your offers would be nothing, my lord, if I did not like the girl.”
“I should not ask you to marry a girl if you did not like her, as you call it.”
“But as to Miss Effingham, it happens that our wishes jump together. I have asked her, and she has refused me. I don’t even know where to find her to ask her again. If I went to Lady Baldock’s house the servants would not let me in.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours partly, my lord. You have told everybody that I am the devil, and now all the old women believe it.”
“I never told anybody so.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will go down to Lady Baldock’s today. I suppose she is at Baddingham. And if I can get speech of Miss Effingham—”
“Miss Effingham is not at Baddingham. Miss Effingham is staying with your sister in Grosvenor Place. I saw her yesterday.”
“She is in London?”
“I tell you that I saw her yesterday.”
“Very well, my lord. Then I will do the best I can. Laura will tell you of the result.”
The father would have given the son some advice as to the mode in which he should put forward his claim upon Violet’s hand, but the son would not wait to hear it. Choosing to presume that the conference was over, he went back to the room in which he had kept his dumbbells, and for a minute or two went to work at his favourite exercise. But he soon put the dumbbells down, and began to prepare himself for his work. If this thing was to be done, it might as well be done at once. He looked out of his window, and saw that the streets were in a mess of slush. White snow was becoming black mud, as it will do in London; and the violence of frost was giving way to the horrors of thaw. All would be soft and comparatively pleasant in Northamptonshire on the following morning, and if everything went right he would breakfast at the Willingford Bull. He would go down by the hunting train, and be at the inn by ten. The meet was only six miles distant, and all would be pleasant. He would do this whatever might be the result of his work today;—but in the meantime he would go and do his work. He had a cab called, and within half an hour of the time at which he had left his father, he was at the door of his sister’s house in Grosvenor Place. The servants told him that the ladies were at lunch. “I can’t eat lunch,” he said. “Tell them that I am in the drawing-room.”
“He has come to see you,” said Lady Laura, as soon as the servant had left the room.
“I hope not,” said Violet.
“Do not say that.”
“But I do say it. I hope he has not come to see me;—that is, not to see me specially. Of course I cannot pretend not to know what you mean.”
“He may think it civil to call if he has heard that you are in town,” said Lady Laura, after a pause.
“If it be only that, I will be civil in return;—as sweet as May to him. If it be really only that, and if I were sure of it, I should be really glad to see him.” Then they finished their lunch, and Lady Laura got up and led the way to the drawing-room.
“I hope you remember,” said she, gravely, “that you might be a saviour to him.”
“I do not believe in girls being saviours to men. It is the man who should be the saviour to the girl. If I marry at all, I have the right to expect that protection shall be given to me—not that I shall have to give it.”
“Violet, you are determined to misrepresent what I mean.”
Lord Chiltern was walking about the room, and did not sit down when they entered. The ordinary greetings took place, and Miss Effingham made some remark about the frost. “But it seems to be going,” she said, “and I suppose that you will soon be at work again?”
“Yes;—I shall hunt tomorrow,” said Lord Chiltern.
“And the next day, and the next, and the next,” said Violet, “till about the middle of April;—and then your period of misery will begin!”
“Exactly,” said Lord Chiltern. “I have nothing but hunting that I can call an occupation.”
“Why don’t you make one?” said his sister.
“I mean to do so, if it be possible. Laura, would you mind leaving me and Miss Effingham alone for a few minutes?”
Lady Laura got up, and so also did Miss Effingham. “For what purpose?” said the latter. “It cannot be for any good purpose.”
“At any rate I wish it, and I will not harm you.” Lady Laura was now going, but paused before she reached the door. “Laura, will you do as I ask you?” said the brother. Then Lady Laura went.
“It was not that I feared you would harm me, Lord Chiltern,” said Violet.
“No;—I know it was not. But what I say is always said awkwardly. An hour ago I did not know that you were in town, but when I was told the news I came at
