There he saw Violet Effingham, meeting her for the
first time since he had parted from her on the great
steps at Saulsby. Of course he spoke to her,
and of course she was gracious to him. But her
graciousness was only a smile and his speech was only
a word. There were many in the room, but not
enough to make privacy possible,—as it
becomes possible at a crowded evening meeting.
Lord Brentford was there, and the Bonteens, and Barrington
Erle, and Lady Glencora Palliser, and Lord Cantrip
with his young wife. It was manifestly a meeting
of Liberals, semi-social and semi-political;—so
arranged that ladies might feel that some interest
in politics was allowed to them, and perhaps some
influence also. Afterwards Mr. Palliser himself
came in. Phineas, however, was most struck by
finding that Laurence Fitzgibbon was there, and that
Mr. Kennedy was not. In regard to Mr. Kennedy,
he was quite sure that had such a meeting taken place
before Lady Laura’s marriage, Mr. Kennedy would
have been present. “I must speak to you
as we go away,” said Phineas, whispering a word
into Fitzgibbon’s ear. “I have been
leaving notes for you all about the town.”
“Not a duel, I hope,” said Fitzgibbon.
How pleasant it was,—that meeting; or would
have been had there not been that nightmare on his
breast! They all talked as though there were
perfect accord between them and perfect confidence.
There were there great men,—Cabinet Ministers,
and beautiful women,—the wives and daughters
of some of England’s highest nobles. And
Phineas Finn, throwing back, now and again, a thought
to Killaloe, found himself among them as one of themselves.
How could any Mr. Low say that he was wrong?
On a sofa near to him, so that he could almost touch
her foot with his, was sitting Violet Effingham, and
as he leaned over from his chair discussing some point
in Mr. Mildmay’s bill with that most inveterate
politician, Lady Glencora, Violet looked into his face
and smiled. Oh heavens! If Lord Chiltern
and he might only toss up as to which of them should
go to Patagonia and remain there for the next ten
years, and which should have Violet Effingham for a
wife in London!
“Come along, Phineas, if you mean to come,”
said Laurence Fitzgibbon. Phineas was of course
bound to go, though Lady Glencora was still talking
Radicalism, and Violet Effingham was still smiling
ineffably.
VOLUME II
CHAPTER XXXVIII
The Duel
“I knew it was a duel;—bedad I did,”
said Laurence Fitzgibbon, standing at the corner of
Orchard Street and Oxford Street, when Phineas had
half told his story. “I was sure of it from
the tone of your voice, my boy. We mustn’t
let it come off, that’s all;—not
if we can help it.” Then Phineas was allowed
to proceed and finish his story. “I don’t
see any way out of it; I don’t, indeed,”
said Laurence. By this time Phineas had come
Copyrights
Phineas Finn from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
