“Is she going?” he asked.
“Well. Yes. I dare say she may before
long. I shall look for Lord Brentford’s
carriage by-and-by.”
“Tell her she need not go because of me.
I shall not return. I shall not annoy her here.
It would have been much better that a woman in such
a plight should not have come to such an assembly.”
“You would not wish her to shut herself up.”
“I would wish her to come back to the home that
she has left, and, if there be any law in the land,
she shall be made to do so. You tell her that
I say so.” Then Mr. Kennedy fought his way
down the stairs, and Phineas Finn followed in his
wake.
About half an hour afterwards Phineas returned to
the two ladies with tidings that the carriage would
be at hand as soon as they could be below. “Did
he see you?” said Lady Laura.
“Yes, he followed me.”
“And did he speak to you?”
“Yes;—he spoke to me.”
“And what did he say?” And then, in the
presence of Violet, Phineas gave the message.
He thought it better that it should be given; and
were he to decline to deliver it now, it would never
be given. “Whether there be law in the
land to protect me or whether there be none, I will
never live with him,” said Lady Laura. “Is
a woman like a head of cattle, that she can be fastened
in her crib by force? I will never live with
him though all the judges of the land should decide
that I must do so.”
Phineas thought much of all this as he went to his
solitary lodgings. After all, was not the world
much better with him than it was with either of those
two wretched married beings? And why? He
had not, at any rate as yet, sacrificed for money
or social gains any of the instincts of his nature.
He had been fickle, foolish, vain, uncertain, and
perhaps covetous;—but as yet he had not
been false. Then he took out Mary’s last
letter and read it again.
Comparing Notes
It would, perhaps, be difficult to decide,—between
Lord Chiltern and Miss Effingham,—which
had been most wrong, or which had been nearest to
the right, in the circumstances which had led to their
separation. The old lord, wishing to induce his
son to undertake work of some sort, and feeling that
his own efforts in this direction were worse than
useless, had closeted himself with his intended daughter-in-law,
and had obtained from her a promise that she would
use her influence with her lover. “Of course
I think it right that he should do something,”
Violet had said. “And he will if you bid
him,” replied the Earl. Violet expressed
a great doubt as to this willingness of obedience;
but, nevertheless, she promised to do her best, and
she did her best. Lord Chiltern, when she spoke
to him, knit his brows with an apparent ferocity of
anger which his countenance frequently expressed without
any intention of ferocity on his part. He was
annoyed, but was not savagely disposed to Violet.
As he looked at her, however, he seemed to be very
savagely disposed. “What is it you would
have me do?” he said.
