On the Sunday afternoon Phineas went to Lord Brentford’s in Portman Square, intending to say a word or two about Lord Chiltern, and meaning also to induce, if possible, the Cabinet Minister to take part with him against the magistrates,—­having a hope also, in which he was not disappointed, that he might find Lady Laura Kennedy with her father.  He had come to understand that Lady Laura was not to be visited at her own house on Sundays.  So much indeed she had told him in so many words.  But he had come to understand also, without any plain telling, that she rebelled in heart against this Sabbath tyranny,—­and that she would escape from it when escape was possible.  She had now come to talk to her father about her brother, and had brought Violet Effingham with her.  They had walked together across the park after church, and intended to walk back again.  Mr. Kennedy did not like to have any carriage out on a Sunday, and to this arrangement his wife made no objection.

Phineas had received a letter from the Stamford surgeon, and was able to report favourably of Lord Chiltern.  “The man says that he had better not be moved for a month,” said Phineas.  “But that means nothing.  They always say that.”

“Will it not be best for him to remain where he is?” said the Earl.

“He has not a soul to speak to,” said Phineas.

“I wish I were with him,” said his sister.

“That is, of course, out of the question,” said the Earl.  “They know him at that inn, and it really seems to me best that he should stay there.  I do not think he would be so much at his ease here.”

“It must be dreadful for a man to be confined to his room without a creature near him, except the servants,” said Violet.  The Earl frowned, but said nothing further.  They all perceived that as soon as he had learned that there was no real danger as to his son’s life, he was determined that this accident should not work him up to any show of tenderness.  “I do so hope he will come up to London,” continued Violet, who was not afraid of the Earl, and was determined not to be put down.

“You don’t know what you are talking about, my dear,” said Lord Brentford.

After this Phineas found it very difficult to extract any sympathy from the Earl on behalf of the men who had been locked up.  He was moody and cross, and could not be induced to talk on the great subject of the day.  Violet Effingham declared that she did not care how many Bunces were locked up; nor for how long,—­adding, however, a wish that Mr. Turnbull himself had been among the number of the prisoners.  Lady Laura was somewhat softer than this, and consented to express pity in the case of Mr. Bunce himself; but Phineas perceived that the pity was awarded to him and not to the sufferer.  The feeling against Mr. Turnbull was at the present moment so strong among all the upper classes, that Mr. Bunce and his brethren might have been kept in durance for a week without commiseration from them.