rything that there was to tell,--had spoken
either plainly with true words, or equally plainly with words that
were not true. Violet Effingham had almost come to love Phineas
Finn;--but she never told her friend that it was so. At one time
she had almost made up her mind to give herself and all her wealth
to this adventurer. He was a better man, she thought, than Lord
Chiltern; and she had come to persuade herself that it was almost
imperative on her to take the one or the other. Though she could
talk about remaining unmarried, she knew that that was practically
impossible. All those around her,--those of the Baldock as well as
those of the Brentford faction,--would make such a life impossible
to her. Besides, in such a case what could she do? It was all very
well to talk of disregarding the world and of setting up a house for
herself;--but she was quite aware that that project could not be used
further than for the purpose of scaring her amiable aunt. And if not
that,--then could she content herself to look forward to a joint life
with Lady Baldock and Augusta Boreham? She might, of course, oblige
her aunt by taking Lord Fawn, or oblige her aunt equally by taking
Mr. Appledom; but she was strongly of opinion that either Lord
Chiltern or Phineas would be preferable to these. Thinking over it
always she had come to feel that it must be either Lord Chiltern or
Phineas; but she had never whispered her thought to man or woman. On
her journey to Loughlinter, where she then knew that she was to meet
Lord Chiltern, she endeavoured to persuade herself that it should be
Phineas. But Lady Laura had marred it all by that ill-told fib. There
had been a moment before in which Violet had felt that Phineas had
sacrificed something of that truth of love for which she gave him
credit to the glances of Madame Goesler's eyes; but she had rebuked
herself for the idea, accusing herself not only of a little jealousy,
but of foolish vanity. Was he, whom she had rejected, not to speak to
another woman? Then came the blow from Lady Laura, and Violet knew
that it was a blow. This gallant lover, this young Crichton, this
unassuming but ardent lover, had simply taken up with her as soon as
he had failed with her friend. Lady Laura had been most enthusiastic
in her expressions of friendship. Such platonic regards might be all
very well. It was for Mr. Kennedy to look to that. But, for herself,
she felt that such expressions were hardly compatible wi