General Effingham, the father of Violet, and Lord Brentford had been the closest and dearest of friends.  They had been young men in the same regiment, and through life each had confided in the other.  When the General’s only son, then a youth of seventeen, was killed in one of our grand New Zealand wars, the bereaved father and the Earl had been together for a month in their sorrow.  At that time Lord Chiltern’s career had still been open to hope,—­and the one man had contrasted his lot with the other.  General Effingham lived long enough to hear the Earl declare that his lot was the happier of the two.  Now the General was dead, and Violet, the daughter of a second wife, was all that was left of the Effinghams.  This second wife had been a Miss Plummer, a lady from the city with much money, whose sister had married Lord Baldock.  Violet in this way had fallen to the care of the Baldock people, and not into the hands of her father’s friends.  But, as the reader will have surmised, she had ideas of her own of emancipating herself from Baldock thraldom.

Twice before that last terrible affair at Newmarket, before the quarrel between the father and the son had been complete, Lord Brentford had said a word to his daughter,—­merely a word,—­of his son in connection with Miss Effingham.

“If he thinks of it I shall be glad to see him on the subject.  You may tell him so.”  That had been the first word.  He had just then resolved that the affair in Paris should be regarded as condoned,—­as among the things to be forgotten.  “She is too good for him; but if he asks her let him tell her everything.”  That had been the second word, and had been spoken immediately subsequent to a payment of twelve thousand pounds made by the Earl towards the settlement of certain Doncaster accounts.  Lady Laura in negotiating for the money had been very eloquent in describing some honest,—­or shall we say chivalric,—­sacrifice which had brought her brother into this special difficulty.  Since that the Earl had declined to interest himself in his son’s matrimonial affairs; and when Lady Laura had once again mentioned the matter, declaring her belief that it would be the means of saving her brother Oswald, the Earl had desired her to be silent.  “Would you wish to destroy the poor child?” he had said.  Nevertheless Lady Laura felt sure that if she were to go to her father with a positive statement that Oswald and Violet were engaged, he would relent and would accept Violet as his daughter.  As for the payment of Lord Chiltern’s present debts;—­she had a little scheme of her own about that.

Miss Effingham, who had been already two days in Portman Square, had not as yet seen Lord Chiltern.  She knew that he lived in the house, that is, that he slept there, and probably eat his breakfast in some apartment of his own;—­but she knew also that the habits of the house would not by any means make it necessary that they should meet.  Laura and her brother probably saw each other daily,—­but they never went into society together, and did not know the same sets of people.  When she had announced to Lady Baldock her intention of spending the first fortnight of her London season with her friend Lady Laura, Lady Baldock had as a matter of course—­“jumped upon her,” as Miss Effingham would herself call it.