“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.

CHAPTER LXXI

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.