By the middle of September there was assembled a large party at Matching Priory, a country mansion belonging to Mr Plantagenet Palliser. The men had certainly been chosen in reference to their political feelings and position — for there was not a guest in the house who had voted for Mr Turnbull’s clause, or the wife or daughter, or sister of anyone who had so voted. Indeed, in these days politics ran so high that among politicians all social gatherings were brought together with some reference to the state of parties. Phineas was invited, and when he arrived at Matching he found that half the Cabinet was there. Mr Kennedy was not there, nor was Lady Laura. Mr Monk was there, and the Duke — with the Duchess, and Mr Gresham, and Lord Thrift; Mrs Max Goesler was there also, and Mrs Bonteen — Mr Bonteen being detained somewhere out of the way; and Violet Effingham was expected in two days, and Lord Chiltern at the end of the week. Lady Glencora took an opportunity of imparting this latter information to Phineas very soon after his arrival; and Phineas, as he watched her eye and her mouth while she spoke, was quite sure that Lady Glencora knew the story of the duel. “I shall be delighted to see him again,” said Phineas. “That is all right,” said Lady Glencora. There were also there Mr and Mrs Grey, who were great friends of the Pallisers — and on the very day on which Phineas reached Matching, at half an hour before the time for dressing, the Duke of Omnium arrived. Now, Mr Palliser was the Duke’s nephew and heir — and the Duke of Omnium was a very great person indeed. I hardly know why it should have been so, but the Duke of Omnium was certainly a greater man in public estimation than the other duke then present — the Duke of St Bungay. The Duke of St Bungay was a useful man, and had been so all his life, sitting in Cabinets and serving his country, constant as any peer in the House of Lords, always ready to take on his own shoulders any troublesome work required of him, than whom Mr Mildmay, and Mr Mildmay’s predecessor at the head of the liberal party, had had no more devoted adherent. But the Duke of Omnium had never yet done a day’s work on behalf of his country. They both wore the Garter, the Duke of St Bungay having earned it by service, the Duke of Omnium having been decorated with the blue ribbon — because he was Duke of Omnium. The one was a moral, good man, a good husband, a good father, and a good friend. The other — did not bear quite so high a reputation. But men and women thought but little of the Duke of St Bungay, while the other duke was regarded with an almost reverential awe. I think the secret lay in the simple fact that the Duke of Omnium had not been common in the eyes of the people. He had contrived to envelope himself in something of the ancient mystery of wealth and rank. Within three minutes of the Duke’s arrival Mrs Bonteen, with an air of great importance, whispered a word to Phineas. “He has come. He arrived exactly at seven!”

“Who has come?” Phineas asked.

“The Duke of Omnium!” she said, almost reprimanding him by her tone of voice for his indifference. “There has been a great doubt whether or no he would show himself at last. Lady Glencora told me that he never will pledge himself. I am so glad he has come.”

“I don’t think I ever saw him,” said Phineas.

“Oh, I have seen him — a magnificent-looking man! I think it is so very nice of Lady Glencora getting him to meet us. It is very rarely that he will join in a great party, but they say Lady Glencora can do anything with him since the heir was born. I suppose you have heard all about that.”

“No,” said Phineas; I have heard nothing of the heir, but I know that there are three or four babies.”

“There was no heir, you know, for a year and a half, and they were all au désespoir; and the Duke was very nearly quarrelling with his nephew; and Mr Palliser — you know it had very nearly come to a separation.”

“I don’t know anything at all about it,” said Phineas, who was not very fond of the lady who was giving him the information.

“It is so, I can assure you; but since the boy was born Lady Glencora can do anything with the Duke. She made him go to Ascot last spring, and he presented her with the favourite for one of the races on the very morning the horse ran. They say he gave three thousand pounds for him.”

“And did Lady Glencora win?”

“No — the horse lost; and Mr Palliser has never known what to do with him since. But it was very pretty of the Duke — was it not?”

Phineas, though he had intended to show to Mrs Bonteen how little he thought about the Duke of Omnium — how small was his respect for a great peer who took no part in politics — could not protect himself from a certain feeling of anxiety as to the aspect and gait and words of the man of whom people thought so much, of whom he had heard so often, and of whom he had seen so little. He told himself that the Duke of Omnium should be no more to him than any other man, but yet the Duke of Omnium was more to him than other men. When he came down into the drawing-room he was angry with himself, and stood apart — and was then angry with himself again because he stood apart. Why should he make a difference in his own bearing because there was such a man in the company? And yet he could not avoid it. When he entered the room the Duke was standing in a large bow-window, and two or three ladies and two or three men were standing round him. Phineas would not go near the group, telling himself that he would not approach a man so grand as was the Duke of Omnium. He saw Madame Max Goesler among the party, and after a while he saw her retreat. As she retreated, Phineas knew that some words from Madame Max Goesler had not been received with the graciousness which she had expected. There was the prettiest smile in the world on the lady’s face, and she took a corner on a sofa with an air of perfect satisfaction. But yet Phineas knew that she had received a wound.

“I called twice on you in London,” said Phineas, coming up close to her, “but was not fortunate enough to find you!”

“Yes — but you came so late in the season as to make it impossible that there should be any arrangements for our meeting. What can any woman do when a gentleman calls on her in August?”

“I came in July.”

“Yes, you did; on the 31st. I keep the most accurate record of all such things, Mr Finn. But let us hope that we may have better luck next year. In the meantime, we can only enjoy the good things that are going.”

“Socially, or politically, Madame Goesler?”

“Oh, socially. How can I mean anything else when the Duke of Omnium is here? I feel so much taller at being in the same house with him. Do not you? But you are a spoilt child of fortune, and perhaps you have met him before.”

“I think I once saw the back of a hat in the park, and somebody told me that the Duke’s head was inside it.”

“And you have never seen him but that once?”

“Never but that once — till now.”

“And do not you feel elated?”

“Of course I do. For what do you take me, Madame Goesler?”

“I do — immensely. I believe him to be a fool, and I never heard of his doing a kind act to anybody in my life.”

“Not when he gave the racehorse to Lady Glencora?”

“I wonder whether that was true. Did you ever hear of such an absurdity? As I was saying, I don’t think he ever did anything for anybody — but then, you know, to be Duke of Omnium! It isn’t necessary — is it — that a Duke of Omnium should do anything except be Duke of Omnium?”

At this moment Lady Glencora came up to Phineas, and took him across to the Duke. The Duke had expressed a desire to be introduced to him. Phineas, half-pleased and half-disgusted, had no alternative, and followed Lady Glencora. The Duke shook hands with him, and made a little bow, and said something about the garrotters, which Phineas, in his confusion, did not quite understand. He tried to reply as he would have replied to anybody else, but the weight of the Duke’s majesty was too much for him, and he bungled. The Duke made another little bow, and in a moment was speaking a word of condescension to some other favoured individual. Phineas retreated altogether disgusted — hating the Duke, but hating himself worse; but he would not retreat in the direction of Madame Max Goesler. It might suit that lady to take an instant little revenge for her discomfiture, but it did not suit him to do so. The question with him would be, whether in some future part of his career it might not be his duty to assist in putting down Dukes of Omnium.

At dinner Phineas sat between Mrs Bonteen and the Duchess of St Bungay, and did not find himself very happy. At the other end of the table the Duke — the great Duke, was seated at Lady Glencora’s right han............