Miss Effingham, who had been already two days in Portman Square, had
not as yet seen Lord Chiltern. She knew that he lived in the house,
that is, that he slept there, and probably eat his breakfast in some
apartment of his own;--but she knew also that the habits of the house
would not by any means make it necessary that they should meet. Laura
and her brother probably saw each other daily,--but they never went
into society together, and did not know the same sets of people.
When she had announced to Lady Baldock her intention of spending the
first fortnight of her London season with her friend Lady Laura,
Lady Baldock had as a matter of course--"jumped upon her," as Miss
Effingham would herself call it.
"You are going to the house of the worst reprobate in all England,"
said Lady Baldock.
"What;--dear old Lord Brentford, whom papa loved so well!"
"I mean Lord Chiltern, who, only last year,--murdered a man!"
"That is not true, aunt."
"There is worse than that,--much worse. He is always--tipsy, and
always gambling, and always-- But it is quite unfit that I should
speak a word more to you about such a man as Lord Chiltern. His name
ought never to be mentioned."
"Then why did you mention it, aunt?"
Lady Baldock's process of jumping upon her niece,--in which I think
the aunt had generally the worst of the exercise,--went on for some
time, but Violet of course carried her point.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166