Madame Max came a couple of days before Phineas, and was taken out
hunting on the morning after her arrival. She was a lady who could
ride to hounds,--and who, indeed, could do nearly anything to which
she set her mind. She was dark, thin, healthy, good-looking, clever,
ambitious, rich, unsatisfied, perhaps unscrupulous,--but not without
a conscience. As has been told in a former portion of this chronicle,
she could always seem to be happy with her companion of the day, and
yet there was ever present a gnawing desire to do something more and
something better than she had as yet achieved. Of course, as he took
her to the meet, Lord Chiltern told her his grievance respecting
Trumpeton Wood. "But, my dear Lord Chiltern, you must not abuse the
Duke of Omnium to me."
"Why not to you?"
"He and I are sworn friends."
"He's a hundred years old."
"And why shouldn't I have a friend a hundred years old? And as
for Mr. Palliser, he knows no more of your foxes than I know of
his taxes. Why don't you write to Lady Glencora? She understands
everything.
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