“I suppose it will come to that if you give her up yourself,” said Phineas.

“It is no question of giving up.  Of course I cannot make her marry me.  Light another cigar, old fellow.”

Phineas, as he lit the other cigar, remembered that he owed a certain duty in this matter to Lady Laura.  She had commissioned him to persuade her brother that his suit with Violet Effingham would not be hopeless, if he could only restrain himself in his mode of conducting it.  Phineas was disposed to do his duty, although he felt it to be very hard that he should be called upon to be eloquent against his own interest.  He had been thinking for the last quarter of an hour how he must bear himself if it might turn out that he should be the man whom Lord Chiltern was resolved to kick.  He looked at his friend and host, and became aware that a kicking-match with such a one would not be pleasant pastime.  Nevertheless, he would be happy enough to be subject to Lord Chiltern’s wrath for such a reason.  He would do his duty by Lord Chiltern; and then, when that had been adequately done, he would, if occasion served, fight a battle for himself.

“You are too sudden with her, Chiltern,” he said, after a pause.

“What do you mean by too sudden?” said Lord Chiltern, almost angrily.

“You frighten her by being so impetuous.  You rush at her as though you wanted to conquer her by a single blow.”

“So I do.”

“You should be more gentle with her.  You should give her time to find out whether she likes you or not.”

“She has known me all her life, and has found that out long ago.  Not but what you are right.  I know you are right.  If I were you, and had your skill in pleasing, I should drop soft words into her ear till I had caught her.  But I have no gifts in that way.  I am as awkward as a pig at what is called flirting.  And I have an accursed pride which stands in my own light.  If she were in this house this moment, and if I knew she were to be had for asking, I don’t think I could bring myself to ask again.  But we’ll go to bed.  It’s half-past two, and we must be off at half-past nine, if we’re to be at Exton Park gates at eleven.”

Phineas, as he went up-stairs, assured himself that he had done his duty.  If there ever should come to be anything between him and Violet Effingham, Lord Chiltern might quarrel with him,—­might probably attempt that kicking encounter to which allusion had been made,—­but nobody could justly say that he had not behaved honourably to his friend.

On the next morning there was a bustle and a scurry, as there always is on such occasions, and the two men got off about ten minutes after time.  But Lord Chiltern drove hard, and they reached the meet before the master had moved off.  They had a fair day’s sport with the Cottesmore; and Phineas, though he found that Meg Merrilies did require a good deal of riding, went through his day’s work with