He knew that it would be well that he should if possible get the subject off his mind during the day, and therefore went out among the people who certainly would not talk to him about the ballot.  He sat for nearly an hour in the morning with Mr. Low, and did not even tell Mr. Low that it was his intention to speak on that day.  Then he made one or two other calls, and at about three went up to Portman Square to look for Lord Chiltern.  It was now nearly the end of February, and Phineas had often seen Lady Laura.  He had not seen her brother, but had learned from his sister that he had been driven up to London by the frost, He was told by the porter at Lord Brentford’s that Lord Chiltern was in the house, and as he was passing through the hall he met Lord Brentford himself.  He was thus driven to speak, and felt himself called upon to explain why he was there.  “I am come to see Lord Chiltern,” he said.

“Is Lord Chiltern in the house?” said the Earl, turning to the servant.

“Yes, my lord; his lordship arrived last night.”

“You will find him upstairs, I suppose,” said the Earl.  “For myself I know nothing of him.”  He spoke in an angry tone, as though he resented the fact that any one should come to his house to call upon his son; and turned his back quickly upon Phineas.  But he thought better of it before he reached the front door, and turned again.  “By-the-bye,” said he, “what majority shall we have to-night, Finn?”

“Pretty nearly as many as you please to name, my lord,” said Phineas.

“Well;—­yes; I suppose we are tolerably safe.  You ought to speak upon it.”

“Perhaps I may,” said Phineas, feeling that he blushed as he spoke.

“Do,” said the Earl.  “Do.  If you see Lord Chiltern will you tell him from me that I should be glad to see him before he leaves London.  I shall be at home till noon to-morrow.”  Phineas, much astonished at the commission given to him, of course said that he would do as he was desired, and then passed on to Lord Chiltern’s apartments.

He found his friend standing in the middle of the room, without coat and waistcoat, with a pair of dumb-bells in his hands.  “When there’s no hunting I’m driven to this kind of thing,” said Lord Chiltern.

“I suppose it’s good exercise,” said Phineas.

“And it gives me something to do.  When I’m in London I feel like a gipsy in church, till the time comes for prowling out at night.  I’ve no occupation for my days whatever, and no place to which I can take myself.  I can’t stand in a club window as some men do, and I should disgrace any decent club if I did stand there.  I belong to the Travellers, but I doubt whether the porter would let me go in.”

“I think you pique yourself on being more of an outer Bohemian than you are,” said Phineas.

“I pique myself on this, that whether Bohemian or not, I will go nowhere that I am not wanted.  Though,—­for the matter of that, I suppose I’m not wanted here.”  Then Phineas gave him the message from his father.  “He wishes to see me to-morrow morning?” continued Lord Chiltern.  “Let him send me word what it is he has to say to me.  I do not choose to be insulted by him, though he is my father.”