Phineas found himself placed between his hostess and Mr. Bonteen, and Lord Fawn was on the other side of Madame Goesler.  They were hardly seated at the table before some one stated it as a fact that Lord Brentford and his son were reconciled.  Now Phineas knew, or thought that he knew, that this could not as yet be the case; and indeed such was not the case, though the father had already received the son’s letter.  But Phineas did not choose to say anything at present about Lord Chiltern.

“How odd it is,” said Madame Goesler; “how often you English fathers quarrel with your sons!”

“How often we English sons quarrel with our fathers rather,” said Lord Fawn, who was known for the respect he had always paid to the fifth commandment.

“It all comes from entail and primogeniture, and old-fashioned English prejudices of that kind,” said Madame Goesler.  “Lord Chiltern is a friend of yours, Mr. Finn, I think.”

“They are both friends of mine,” said Phineas.

“Ah, yes; but you,—­you,—­you and Lord Chiltern once did something odd together.  There was a little mystery, was there not?”

“It is very little of a mystery now,” said Fitzgibbon.

“It was about a lady;—­was it not?” said Mrs. Bonteen, affecting to whisper to her neighbour.

“I am not at liberty to say anything on the subject,” said Fitzgibbon; “but I have no doubt Phineas will tell you.”

“I don’t believe this about Lord Brentford,” said Mr. Bonteen.  “I happen to know that Chiltern was down at Loughlinter three days ago, and that he passed through London yesterday on his way to the place where he hunts.  The Earl is at Saulsby.  He would have gone to Saulsby if it were true.”

“It all depends upon whether Miss Effingham will accept him,” said Mrs. Bonteen, looking over at Phineas as she spoke.

As there were two of Violet Effingham’s suitors at table, the subject was becoming disagreeably personal; and the more so, as every one of the party knew or surmised something of the facts of the case.  The cause of the duel at Blankenberg had become almost as public as the duel, and Lord Fawn’s courtship had not been altogether hidden from the public eye.  He on the present occasion might probably be able to carry himself better than Phineas, even presuming him to be equally eager in his love,—­for he knew nothing of the fatal truth.  But he was unable to hear Mrs. Bonteen’s statement with indifference, and showed his concern in the matter by his reply.  “Any lady will be much to be pitied,” he said, “who does that.  Chiltern is the last man in the world to whom I would wish to trust the happiness of a woman for whom I cared.”

“Chiltern is a very good fellow,” said Laurence Fitzgibbon.

“Just a little wild,” said Mrs. Bonteen.

“And never had a shilling in his pocket in his life,” said her husband.

“I regard him as simply a madman,” said Lord Fawn.