“Everybody heard of it.  But it has made such a difference between him and me, that I don’t think I can meddle.  Send for Lord Chiltern, and speak to him.”

“Speak to Chiltern!  Never!  He would probably strike me on the head with his club.”

“Call on the Earl yourself.”

“I did, and he would not see me.”

“Write to him.”

“I did, and he sent back my letter unopened.”

“Write to her.”

“I did;—­and she answered me, saying only thus; ’Indeed, indeed, it cannot be so.’  But it must be so.  The laws of God require it, and the laws of man permit it.  I want some one to point out that to them more softly than I could do if I were simply to write to that effect.  To the Earl, of course, I cannot write again.”  The conference ended by a promise from Phineas that he would, if possible, say a word to Lady Laura.

When he was shown into Lord Brentford’s drawing-room he found not only Lady Laura there, but her brother.  Lord Brentford was not in the room.  Barrington Erle was there, and so also were Lord and Lady Cantrip.

“Is not your father going to be here?” he said to Lady Laura, after their first greeting.

“We live in that hope,” said she, “and do not at all know why he should be late.  What has become of him, Oswald?”

“He came in with me half an hour ago, and I suppose he does not dress as quickly as I do,” said Lord Chiltern; upon which Phineas immediately understood that the father and the son were reconciled, and he rushed to the conclusion that Violet and her lover would also soon be reconciled, if such were not already the case.  He felt some remnant of a soreness that it should be so, as a man feels where his headache has been when the real ache itself has left him.  Then the host came in and made his apologies.  “Chiltern kept me standing about,” he said, “till the east wind had chilled me through and through.  The only charm I recognise in youth is that it is impervious to the east wind.”  Phineas felt quite sure now that Violet and her lover were reconciled, and he had a distinct feeling of the place where the ache had been.  Dear Violet!  But, after all, Violet lacked that sweet, clinging, feminine softness which made Mary Flood Jones so pre-eminently the most charming of her sex.  The Earl, when he had repeated his general apology, especially to Lady Cantrip, who was the only lady present except his daughter, came up to our hero and shook him kindly by the hand.  He took him up to one of the windows and then addressed him in a voice of mock solemnity.

“Stick to the colonies, young man,” he said, “and never meddle with foreign affairs;—­especially not at Blankenberg.”

“Never again, my Lord;—­never again.”

“And leave all questions of fire-arms to be arranged between the Horse Guards and the War Office.  I have heard a good deal about it since I saw you, and I retract a part of what I said.  But a duel is a foolish thing,—­a very foolish thing.  Come;—­here is dinner.”  And the Earl walked off with Lady Cantrip, and Lord Cantrip walked off with Lady Laura.  Barrington Erle followed, and Phineas had an opportunity of saying a word to his friend, Lord Chiltern, as they went down together.