received no answer;—­and nothing of certainty was to be gathered from the report which Violet had just made.  It might well be that Lord Chiltern would turn upon him now in his wrath, and that there would be some scene which in a strange house would be obviously objectionable.  Nevertheless he had resolved that even that would be better than a chance encounter among strangers in a drawing-room.  So the door was opened and the two men met.

“Well, old fellow,” said Lord Chiltern, laughing.  Then all doubt was over, and in a moment Phineas was shaking his former,—­and present friend, warmly by the hand.  “So we’ve come to be an Under-Secretary have we?—­and all that kind of thing.”

“I had to get into harness,—­when the harness offered itself,” said Phineas.

“I suppose so.  It’s a deuce of a bore, isn’t it?”

“I always liked work, you know.”

“I thought you liked hunting better.  You used to ride as if you did.  There’s Bonebreaker back again in the stable for you.  That poor fool who bought him could do nothing with him, and I let him have his money back.”

“I don’t see why you should have done that.”

“Because I was the biggest fool of the two.  Do you remember when that brute got me down under the bank in the river?  That was about the nearest touch I ever had.  Lord bless me;—­how he did squeeze me!  So here you are;—­staying with the Pallisers,—­one of a Government party I suppose.  But what are you going to do for a seat, my friend?”

“Don’t talk about that yet, Chiltern.”

“A sore subject,—­isn’t it?  I think they have been quite right, you know, to put Loughton into the melting-pot,—­though I’m sorry enough for your sake.”

“Quite right,” said Phineas.

“And yet you voted against it, old chap?  But, come; I’m not going to be down upon you.  So my father has been here?”

“Yes;—­he was here for a day or two.”

“Violet has just been telling me.  You and he are as good friends as ever?”

“I trust we are.”

“He never heard of that little affair?” And Lord Chiltern nodded his head, intending to indicate the direction of Blankenberg.

“I do not think he has yet.”

“So Violet tells me.  Of course you know that she has heard all about it.”

“I have reason to suppose as much.”

“And so does Laura.”

“I told her myself,” said Phineas.

“The deuce you did!  But I daresay it was for the best.  It’s a pity you had not proclaimed it at Charing Cross, and then nobody would have believed a word about it.  Of course my father will hear it some day.”

“You are going to Saulsby, I hope, Chiltern?”

“That question is easier asked than answered.  It is quite true that the great difficulty has been got over.  Laura has had her money.  And if my father will only acknowledge that he has wronged me throughout, from beginning to end, I will go to Saulsby to-morrow;—­and would cut you out at Loughton the next day, only that Loughton is not Loughton any longer.”