“I have been quite contented,” said Lord Fawn;—­“more than contented.”

Phineas felt that he ought to give some special reason to Miss Effingham to account for his efforts to reach her, but yet he had nothing special to say.  Had Lord Fawn not been there, he would immediately have told her that he was waiting for an answer to the question he had asked her in Saulsby Park, but he could hardly do this in presence of the noble Under-Secretary of State.  She received him with her pleasant genial smile, looking exactly as she had looked when he had parted from her on the morning after their ride.  She did not show any sign of anger, or even of indifference at his approach.  But still it was almost necessary that he should account for his search of her.  “I have so longed to hear from you how you got on at Loughlinter,” he said.

“Yes,—­yes; and I will tell you something of it some day, perhaps.  Why do you not come to Lady Baldock’s?”

“I did not even know that Lady Baldock was in town.”

“You ought to have known.  Of course she is in town.  Where did you suppose I was living?  Lord Fawn was there yesterday, and can tell you that my aunt is quite blooming.”

“Lady Baldock is blooming,” said Lord Fawn; “certainly blooming;—­that is, if evergreens may be said to bloom.”

“Evergreens do bloom, as well as spring plants, Lord Fawn.  You come and see her, Mr. Finn;—­only you must bring a little money with you for the Female Protestant Unmarried Women’s Emigration Society.  That is my aunt’s present hobby, as Lord Fawn knows to his cost.”

“I wish I may never spend half-a-sovereign worse.”

“But it is a perilous affair for me, as my aunt wants me to go out as a sort of leading Protestant unmarried female emigrant pioneer myself.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Lord Fawn, with much anxiety.

“Of course you’ll go,” said Phineas.  “I should, if I were you.”

“I am in doubt,” said Violet.

“It is such a grand prospect,” said he.  “Such an opening in life.  So much excitement, you know; and such a useful career.”

“As if there were not plenty of opening here for Miss Effingham,” said Lord Fawn, “and plenty of excitement.”

“Do you think there is?” said Violet.  “You are much more civil than Mr. Finn, I must say.”  Then Phineas began to hope that he need not be afraid of Lord Fawn.  “What a happy man you were at dinner!” continued Violet, addressing herself to Phineas.

“I thought Lord Fawn was the happy man.”

“You had Madame Max Goesler all to yourself for nearly two hours, and I suppose there was not a creature in the room who did not envy you.  I don’t doubt that ever so much interest was made with Lady Glencora as to taking Madame Max down to dinner.  Lord Fawn, I know, intrigued.”

“Miss Effingham, really I must—­contradict you.”

“And Barrington Erle begged for it as a particular favour.  The Duke, with a sigh, owned that it was impossible, because of his cumbrous rank; and Mr. Gresham, when it was offered to him, declared that he was fatigued with the business of the House, and not up to the occasion.  How much did she say to you; and what did she talk about?”