Part 93 (1/2)
”I cannot conceive to whom he can have alluded,” said Violet. Then Phineas began to understand that Violet had not heard the whole story; but the difficulty of speaking was still very great.
”It has been the result of ungovernable temper,” he said.
”But a man does not usually strive to dishonour himself because he is in a rage. And this man is incapable of rage. He must be cursed with one of those dark gloomy minds in which love always leads to jealousy. She will never return to him.”
”One cannot say. In many respects it would be better that she should,” said Phineas.
”She will never return to him,” repeated Violet,--”never. Would you advise her to do so?”
”How can I say? If one were called upon for advice, one would think so much before one spoke.”
”I would not,--not for a minute. What! to be accused of that! How are a man and woman to live together after there have been such words between them? Poor Laura! What a terrible end to all her high hopes!
Do you not grieve for her?”
They were now at some distance from the house, and Phineas could not but feel that chance had been very good to him in giving him his opportunity. She was leaning on his arm, and they were alone, and she was speaking to him with all the familiarity of old friends.h.i.+p. ”I wonder whether I may change the subject,” said he, ”and ask you a word about yourself?”
”What word?” she said sharply.
”I have heard--”
”What have you heard?”
”Simply this,--that you are not now as you were six months ago. Your marriage was then fixed for June.”
”It has been unfixed since then,” she said.
”Yes;--it has been unfixed. I know it. Miss Effingham, you will not be angry with me if I say that when I heard it was so, something of a hope,--no, I must not call it a hope,--something that longed to form itself into hope returned to my breast, and from that hour to this has been the only subject on which I have cared to think.”
”Lord Chiltern is your friend, Mr. Finn?”
”He is so, and I do not think that I have ever been untrue to my friends.h.i.+p for him.”
”He says that no man has ever had a truer friend. He will swear to that in all companies. And I, when it was allowed to me to swear with him, swore it too. As his friend, let me tell you one thing,--one thing which I would never tell to any other man,--one thing which I know I may tell you in confidence. You are a gentleman, and will not break my confidence?”
”I think I will not.”
”I know you will not, because you are a gentleman. I told Lord Chiltern in the autumn of last year that I loved him. And I did love him. I shall never have the same confession to make to another man.
That he and I are not now,--on those loving terms,--which once existed, can make no difference in that. A woman cannot transfer her heart. There have been things which have made me feel,--that I was perhaps mistaken,--in saying that I would be,--his wife. But I said so, and cannot now give myself to another. Here is Lord Brentford, and we will join him.” There was Lord Brentford with Lady Laura on his arm, very gloomy,--resolving on what way he might be avenged on the man who had insulted his daughter. He took but little notice of Phineas as he resumed his charge of Miss Effingham; but the two ladies wished him good night.
”Good night, Lady Laura,” said Phineas, standing with his hat in his hand,--”good night, Miss Effingham.” Then he was alone,--quite alone.
Would it not be well for him to go down to the bottom of the garden, and fling himself into the quiet river, so that there might be an end of him? Or would it not be better still that he should create for himself some quiet river of life, away from London, away from politics, away from lords, and t.i.tled ladies, and fas.h.i.+onable squares, and the parties given by dukes, and the disappointments incident to a small man in attempting to make for himself a career among big men? There had frequently been in the mind of this young man an idea that there was something almost false in his own position,--that his life was a pretence, and that he would ultimately be subject to that ruin which always comes, sooner or later, on things which are false; and now as he wandered alone about Lady Glencora's gardens, this feeling was very strong within his bosom, and robbed him altogether of the honour and glory of having been one of the Duke of Omnium's guests.
CHAPTER LXV
The Cabinet Minister at Killaloe
Phineas did not throw himself into the river from the Duke's garden; and was ready, in spite of Violet Effingham, to start for Ireland with Mr. Monk at the end of the first week in August. The close of that season in London certainly was not a happy period of his life.
Violet had spoken to him after such a fas.h.i.+on that he could not bring himself not to believe her. She had given him no hint whether it was likely or unlikely that she and Lord Chiltern would be reconciled; but she had convinced him that he could not be allowed to take Lord Chiltern's place. ”A woman cannot transfer her heart,” she had said.