to
London, coerced into doing so, as Violet Effingham declared, in
thorough opposition to all her own tastes, by the known wishes of her
friends and relatives. Her friends and relatives, so Miss Effingham
insinuated, were unanimous in wishing that Lady Baldock should
remain at Baddingham Park, and therefore,--that wish having been
indiscreetly expressed,--she had put herself to great inconvenience,
and had come to London in March. "Gustavus will go mad," said Violet
to Lady Laura. The Gustavus in question was the Lord Baldock of the
present generation, Miss Effingham's Lady Baldock being the peer's
mother. "Why does not Lord Baldock take a house himself?" asked Lady
Laura. "Don't you know, my dear," Violet answered, "how much we
Baddingham people think of money? We don't like being vexed and
driven mad, but even that is better than keeping up two households."
As regarded Violet, the injury arising from Lady Baldock's early
migration was very great, for she was thus compelled to move from
Grosvenor Place to Lady Baldock's house in Berkeley Square. "As you
are so fond of being in London, Augusta and I have made up our minds
to come up before Easter," Lady Baldock had written to her.

"I shall go to her now," Violet had said to her friend, "because I
have not quite made up my mind as to what I will do for the future."

"Marry Oswald, and be your own mistress."

"I mean to be my own mistress without marrying Oswald, though I don't
see my way quite clearly as yet. I think I shall set up a little
house of my own, and let the world say what it pleases. I suppose
they couldn't make me out to be a lunatic."

"I shouldn't wonder if they were to try," said Lady Laura.

"They could not prevent me in any other way. But I am in the dark as
yet, and so I shall be obedient and go to my aunt."

Miss Effingham went to Berkeley Square, and Phineas Finn was
introduced to Lady Baldock. He had been often in Grosvenor Place,
and had seen Violet frequently. Mr. Kennedy gave periodical
dinners,--once a week,--to which everybody went who could get an
invitation; and Phineas had been a guest more than once. Indeed, in
spite of his miseries he had taken to dining out a good deal, and was
popular as an eater of dinners. He could talk when wanted, and did
not talk too much, was pleasant in manners and appearance, and had
already achieved a certain recognised position in London life. Of
those who knew him intimately, not one in twenty were awa