“Very well.  I only tell you what I hear.  The fact is that he and Chiltern have already quarrelled about her.  If I were to tell you that they have been over to Holland together and fought a duel about her, you wouldn’t believe that.”

“Fought a duel about Violet!  People don’t fight duels now, and I should not believe it.”

“Very well.  Then send your card to Mr. Finn.”  And, so saying, Lord Baldock left the room.

Lady Baldock sat in silence for some time toasting her toes at the fire, and Augusta Boreham sat by, waiting for orders.  She felt pretty nearly sure that new orders would be given if she did not herself interfere.  “You had better put by that card for the present, my dear,” said Lady Baldock at last.  “I will make inquiries.  I don’t believe a word of what Gustavus has said.  I don’t think that even Violet is such a fool as that.  But if rash and ill-natured people have spoken of it, it may be as well to be careful.”

“It is always well to be careful;—­is it not, mamma?”

“Not but what I think it very improper that these things should be said about a young woman; and as for the story of the duel, I don’t believe a word of it.  It is absurd.  I dare say that Gustavus invented it at the moment, just to amuse himself.”

The card of course was not sent, and Lady Baldock at any rate put so much faith in her son’s story as to make her feel it to be her duty to interrogate her niece on the subject.  Lady Baldock at this period of her life was certainly not free from fear of Violet Effingham.  In the numerous encounters which took place between them, the aunt seldom gained that amount of victory which would have completely satisfied her spirit.  She longed to be dominant over her niece as she was dominant over her daughter; and when she found that she missed such supremacy, she longed to tell Violet to depart from out her borders, and be no longer niece of hers.  But had she ever done so, Violet would have gone at the instant, and then terrible things would have followed.  There is a satisfaction in turning out of doors a nephew or niece who is pecuniarily dependent, but when the youthful relative is richly endowed, the satisfaction is much diminished.  It is the duty of a guardian, no doubt, to look after the ward; but if this cannot be done, the ward’s money should at least be held with as close a fist as possible.  But Lady Baldock, though she knew that she would be sorely wounded, poked about on her old body with the sharp lances of disobedience, and struck with the cruel swords of satire, if she took upon herself to scold or even to question Violet, nevertheless would not abandon the pleasure of lecturing and teaching.  “It is my duty,” she would say to herself, “and though it be taken in a bad spirit, I will always perform my duty.”  So she performed her duty, and asked Violet Effingham some few questions respecting Phineas Finn.  “My dear,” she said, “do you remember meeting a Mr. Finn at Saulsby?”