language by Violet
Effingham herself. Looking at his watch he saw that it was one
o'clock, and at that moment Lord Chiltern was announced.

Phineas went forward immediately with his hand out to meet his
visitor. "Chiltern," he said, "I am very glad to see you." But Lord
Chiltern did not take his hand. Passing on to the table, with his hat
still on his head, and with a dark scowl upon his brow, the young
lord stood for a few moments perfectly silent. Then he chucked a
letter across the table to the spot at which Phineas was standing.
Phineas, taking up the letter, perceived that it was that which
he, in his great attempt to be honest, had written from the inn at
Loughton. "It is my own letter to you," he said.

"Yes; it is your letter to me. I received it oddly enough together
with your own note at Moroni's,--on Monday morning. It has been
round the world, I suppose, and reached me only then. You must
withdraw it."

"Withdraw it?"

"Yes, sir, withdraw it. As far as I can learn, without asking any
question which would have committed myself or the young lady, you
have not acted upon it. You have not yet done what you there threaten
to do. In that you have been very wise, and there can be no
difficulty in your withdrawing the letter."

"I certainly shall not withdraw it, Lord Chiltern."

"Do you remember--what--I once--told you,--about myself and Miss
Effingham?" This question he asked very slowly, pausing between the
words, and looking full into the face of his rival, towards whom he
had gradually come nearer. And his countenance, as he did so, was
by no means pleasant. The redness of his complexion had become more
ruddy than usual; he still wore his hat as though with studied
insolence; his right hand was clenched; and there was that look of
angry purpose in his eye which no man likes to see in the eye of an
antagonist. Phineas was afraid of no violence, personal to himself;
but he was afraid of,--of what I may, perhaps, best call "a row."
To be tumbling over the chairs and tables with his late friend and
present enemy in Mrs. Bunce's room would be most unpleasant to him.
If there were to be blows he, too, must strike;--and he was very
averse to strike Lady Laura's brother, Lord Brentford's son, Violet
Effingham's friend. If need be, however, he would strike.

"I suppose I remember what you mean," said Phineas. "I think you
declared that you would quarrel with any man who might presume to
address Miss Effingham