it had left to her a sweet flavour, of which she loved
to taste the sweetness though she knew that it was
gone. And the man should be her friend, but especially
her husband’s friend. It should be her care
to see that his life was successful,—and
especially her husband’s care. It was a
great delight to her to know that her husband liked
the man. And the man would marry, and the man’s
wife should be her friend. All this had been
very pure and very pleasant. Now an idea had flitted
across her brain that the man was in love with some
one else,—and she did not like it!
But she did not therefore become afraid of herself,
or in the least realise at once the danger of her
own position. Her immediate glance at the matter
did not go beyond the falseness of men. If it
were so, as she suspected,—if Phineas had
in truth transferred his affections to Violet Effingham,
of how little value was the love of such a man!
It did not occur to her at this moment that she also
had transferred hers to Robert Kennedy, or that, if
not, she had done worse. But she did remember
that in the autumn this young Phoebus among men had
turned his back upon her out upon the mountain that
he might hide from her the agony of his heart when
he learned that she was to be the wife of another
man; and that now, before the winter was over, he
could not hide from her the fact that his heart was
elsewhere! And then she speculated, and counted
up facts, and satisfied herself that Phineas could
not even have seen Violet Effingham since they two
had stood together upon the mountain. How false
are men!—how false and how weak of heart!
“Chiltern and Violet Effingham!” said
Phineas to himself, as he walked away from Grosvenor
Place. “Is it fair that she should be sacrificed
because she is rich, and because she is so winning
and so fascinating that Lord Brentford would receive
even his son for the sake of receiving also such a
daughter-in-law?” Phineas also liked Lord Chiltern;
had seen or fancied that he had seen fine things in
him; had looked forward to his regeneration, hoping,
perhaps, that he might have some hand in the good
work. But he did not recognise the propriety
of sacrificing Violet Effingham even for work so good
as this. If Miss Effingham had refused Lord Chiltern
twice, surely that ought to be sufficient. It
did not occur to him that the love of such a girl
as Violet would be a great treasure—to himself.
As regarded himself, he was still in love,—hopelessly
in love, with Lady Laura Kennedy!
CHAPTER XVIII
Mr. Turnbull
It was a Wednesday evening and there was no House;—and
at seven o’clock Phineas was at Mr. Monk’s
hall door. He was the first of the guests, and
he found Mr. Monk alone in the dining-room. “I
am doing butler,” said Mr. Monk, who had a brace
of decanters in his hands, which he proceeded to put
down in the neighbourhood of the fire. “But
I have finished, and now we will go up-stairs to receive
the two great men properly.”
Copyrights
Phineas Finn from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
