nd myself by evidence, Lord Brentford, I should
have to go back to exact dates,--and dates not of facts which I could
verify, but dates as to my feelings which could not be verified,--and
that would be useless. I can only say that I believe I know what
the honour and truth of a gentleman demand,--even to the verge of
self-sacrifice, and that I have done nothing that ought to place my
character as a gentleman in jeopardy. If you will ask your son, I
think he will tell you the same."
"I have asked him. It was he who told me of the duel."
"When did he tell you, my lord?"
"Just now; this morning." Thus Phineas learned that Lord Chiltern was
at this moment in the house,--or at least in London.
"And did he complain of my conduct?"
"I complain of it, sir. I complain of it very bitterly. I placed the
greatest confidence in you, especially in regard to my son's affairs,
and you deceived me." The Earl was very angry, and was more angry
from the fact that this young man who had offended him, to whom he
had given such vital assistance when assistance was needed, had used
that assistance to its utmost before his sin was found out. Had
Phineas still been sitting for Loughton, so that the Earl could have
said to him, "You are now bound to retreat from this borough because
you have offended me, your patron," I think that he would have
forgiven the offender and allowed him to remain in his seat. There
would have been a scene, and the Earl would have been pacified. But
now the offender was beyond his reach altogether, having used the
borough as a most convenient stepping-stone over his difficulties,
and having so used it just at the time when he was committing this
sin. There was a good fortune about Phineas which added greatly to
the lord's wrath. And then, to tell the truth, he had not that rich
consolation for which Phineas gave him credit. Lord Chiltern had told
him that morning that the engagement between him and Violet was at an
end. "You have so preached to her, my lord, about my duties," the son
had said to his father, "that she finds herself obliged to give me
your sermons at second hand, till I can bear them no longer." But of
this Phineas knew nothing as yet. The Earl, however, was so imprudent
in his anger that before this interview was over he had told the
whole story. "Yes;--you deceived me," he continued; "and I can never
trust you again."
"Was it for me, my lord, to tell you of that which would have
increase
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