A title, according to Roger's doctrine on such subjects, could make no man a gentleman, but, if improperly worn, might degrade a man who would otherwise be a gentleman.


He thought that a gentleman, born and bred, acknowledged as such without doubt, could not be made more than a gentleman by all the titles which the Queen could give.


With these old-fashioned notions Roger hated the title which had fallen upon a branch of his family.


He certainly would not leave his property to support the title which Sir Felix unfortunately possessed.

certainly would not leave his property to support the baronetcy.


But Sir Felix was the natural heir, and this man felt himself constrained, almost as by some divine law, to see that his land went by natural descent.

But Sir Felix was the natural heir, and Roger felt


Though he was in no degree fettered as to its disposition, he did not presume himself to have more than a life interest in the estate.


It was his duty to see that it went from Carbury to Carbury as long as there was a Carbury to hold it, and especially his duty to see that it should go from his hands, at his death, unimpaired in extent or value.

it was his duty to see that his land went from Carbury to Carbury, unimpaired in extent or value.


There was no reason why he should himself die for the next twenty or thirty years,--but were he to die Sir Felix would undoubtedly dissipate the acres, and then there would be an end of Carbury.

There was no reason why he should himself die for twenty or thirty years - but if he were to die, Sir Felix would undoubtedly dissipate the acres, and then there would be an end of Carbury.


But in such case he, Roger Carbury, would at any rate have done his duty.


He knew that no human arrangements can be fixed, let the care in making them be ever so great.


To his thinking it would be better that the estate should be dissipated by a Carbury than held together by a stranger.

Better that the estate should be dissipated by a Carbury than held together by a stranger.


He would stick to the old name while there was one to bear it, and to the old family while a member of it was left.


So thinking he had already made his will, leaving the entire property to the man whom of all others he most despised, should he himself die without child.

So thinking, he had already made his will, leaving the entire property to the man whom of all others he most despised, should he himself die childless.


In the afternoon of the day on which Lady Carbury was expected, he wandered about the place thinking of all this.

In the afternoon on which Lady Carbury was expected, he wandered about the place thinking of all this.


How infinitely better it would be that he should have an heir of his own.

How infinitely better it would be to have an heir of his own


How wonderfully beautiful would the world be to him if at last his cousin would consent to be his wife!

- how wonderfully beautiful would the world be to him if his cousin would consent to be his wife!


How wearily insipid must it be if no such consent could be obtained from her.


And then he thought much of her welfare too.


In very truth he did not like Lady Carbury.


He saw through her character, judging her with almost absolute accuracy.


The woman was affectionate, seeking good things for others rather than for herself; but she was essentially worldly, believing that good could come out of evil, that falsehood might in certain conditions be better than truth, that shams and pretences might do the work of true service, that a strong house might be built upon the sand!

as affectionate but worldly. She believed that good could come out of evil, and that falsehood might sometimes be better than truth.


It was lamentable to him that the girl he loved should be subjected to this teaching, and live in an atmosphere so burdened with falsehood.

It was lamentable to him that the girl he loved should be subjected to this teaching.


Would not the touch of pitch at last defile her?


In his heart of hearts he believed that she loved Paul Montague; and of Paul himself he was beginning to fear evil.


What but a sham could be a man who consented to pretend to sit as one of a Board of Directors to manage an enormous enterprise with such colleagues as Lord Alfred Grendall and Sir Felix Carbury, under the absolute control of such a one as Mr. Augustus Melmotte?

Only a sham would pretend to sit on a Board of Directors with Lord Alfred Grendall and Sir Felix Carbury, under the control of Melmotte.


Was not this building a house upon the sand with a vengeance?


What a life it would be for Henrietta Carbury were she to marry a man striving to become rich without labour and without capital, and who might one day be wealthy and the next a beggar,--a city adventurer, who of all men was to him the vilest and most dishonest?

What a life it would be for Henrietta were she to marry a man striving to become rich without labour - a city adventurer, of all men the vilest and most dishonest!


He strove to think well of Paul Montague, but such was the life which he feared the young man was preparing for himself.

He strove to think well of Paul Montague, but he feared for his future.


Then he went into the house and wandered up through the rooms which the two ladies were to occupy.

Then he went into the house and wandered through the rooms which the two ladies were to occupy.


As their host, a host without a wife or mother or sister, it was his duty to see that things were comfortable, but it may be doubted whether he would have been so careful had the mother been coming alone.


In the smaller room of the two the hangings were all white, and the room was sweet with May flowers; and he brought a white rose from the hot-house, and placed it in a glass on the dressing table.


Surely she would know who had put it there.


Then he stood at the open window, looking down upon the lawn, gazing vacantly for half an hour, till he heard the wheels of the carriage before the front door.

Then he stood at the open window, gazing vacantly down upon the lawn for half an hour, till he heard the wheels of the arriving carriage.


During that half hour he resolved that he would try again as though there had as yet been no repulse.

During that half hour he resolved that he would try again.


When Marie Melmotte assured Sir Felix Carbury that her father had already endowed her with a large fortune which could not be taken from her without her own consent, she spoke no more than the truth.

When Marie Melmotte assured Sir Felix Carbury that her father had already endowed her with a large fortune which could not be taken from her without her consent, she spoke the truth.


She knew of the matter almost as little as it was possible that she should know.


As far as reticence on the subject was compatible with the object he had in view Melmotte had kept from her all knowledge of the details of the arrangement.

Melmotte had kept all the details from her.


But it had been necessary when the thing was done to explain, or to pretend to explain, much; and Marie's memory and also her intelligence had been strong beyond her father's anticipation.

But it had been necessary for him to explain, or to pretend to explain, much; and Marie's memory and also her intelligence were strong beyond her father's anticipation.


He was deriving a very considerable income from a large sum of money which he had invested in foreign funds in her name, and had got her to execute a power of attorney enabling him to draw this income on her behalf.

He had invested a large sum of money in foreign funds in her name, and he had got her to give him a power of attorney enabling him to draw the income from them on her behalf.


This he had done fearing shipwreck in the course which he meant to run, and resolved that, let circumstances go as they might, there should still be left enough to him of the money which he had realised to enable him to live in comfort and luxury, should he be doomed to live in obscurity, or even in infamy.

This he had done so that he should still have enough money to live in comfort, should he be doomed to obscurity.


He had sworn to himself solemnly that under no circumstances would he allow this money to go back into the vortex of his speculations, and hitherto he had been true to his oath.


Though bankruptcy and apparent ruin might be imminent he would not bolster up his credit by the use of this money even though it might appear at the moment that the money would be sufficient for the purpose.


If such a day should come, then, with that certain income, he would make himself happy, if possible, or at any rate luxurious, in whatever city of the world might know least of his antecedents, and give him the warmest welcome on behalf of his wealth.


But he had failed to consider various circumstances.


His daughter might be untrue to him, or in the event of her marriage might fail to release his property,--or it might be that the very money should be required to dower his daughter.


Or there might come troubles on him so great that even the certainty of a future income would not enable him to bear them.

; or there might come troubles so great that even the future income would not be enough.


Now, at this present moment, his mind was tortured by great anxiety.


Were he to resume this property it would more than enable him to pay all that was due to the Longestaffes.

Were he to take back this property it would enable him to pay all that was due to the Longestaffes, and more


It would do that and tide him for a time over some other difficulties.


Now in regard to the Longestaffes themselves, he certainly had no desire to depart from the rule which he had made for himself, on their behalf.

He did not care about the Longstaffes themselves.


Were it necessary that a crash should come they would be as good creditors as any other.


But then he was painfully alive to the fact that something beyond simple indebtedness was involved in that transaction.

But he was painfully aware that not just a simple debt was involved.


He had with his own hand traced Dolly Longestaffe's signature on the letter which he had found in old Mr. Longestaffe's drawer.

He had with his own hand written Dolly Longestaffe's signature on the letter which he had found in old Mr. Longestaffe's drawer.


He had found it in an envelope, addressed by the elder Mr. Longestaffe to Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile, and he had himself posted this letter in a pillar-box near to his own house.

He had discovered it in an envelope addressed in Mr. Longstaffe's writing to Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile, and he had posted it himself.


In the execution of this manoeuvre, circumstances had greatly befriended him.


He had become the tenant of Mr. Longestaffe's house, and at the same time had only been the joint tenant of Mr. Longestaffe's study,--so that Mr. Longestaffe's papers were almost in his very hands.

At the time, he was the joint tenant of Mr. Longestaffe's study; and he had


To pick a lock was with him an accomplishment long since learned.


But his science in that line did not go so far as to enable him to replace the bolt in its receptacle.


He had picked a lock, had found the letter prepared by Mr. Bideawhile with its accompanying envelope, and had then already learned enough of the domestic circumstances of the Longestaffe family to feel assured that unless he could assist the expedition of this hitherto uncompleted letter by his own skill, the letter would never reach its intended destination.

He had picked a lock, and had found the letter prepared by Mr. Bideawhile.


In all this fortune had in some degree befriended him.


The circumstances being as they were it was hardly possible that the forgery should be discovered.


Even though the young man were to swear that the signature was not his, even though the old man were to swear that he had left that drawer properly locked with the unsigned letter in it, still there could be no evidence.

Even if the young man were to swear that the signature was not his, and the old man were to swear that he had left that drawer locked, still there could be no evidence.


But there would still be that ample fortune on which to retire and eat and drink and make merry for the rest of his days.

But there would still be that ample fortune on which to retire and make merry for the rest of his days.


Then there came annoying complications in his affairs.


What had been so easy in reference to that letter which Dolly Longestaffe never would have signed, was less easy but still feasible in another matter.


Under the joint pressure of immediate need, growing ambition, and increasing audacity it had been done.


Then the rumours that were spread abroad,--which to Melmotte were serious indeed,--they named, at any rate in reference to Dolly Longestaffe, the very thing that had been done.

Rumours of the forgery were spread abroad.


Now if that, or the like of that, were brought actually home to him, if twelve jurymen could be got to say that he had done that thing, of what use then would be all that money?

If a jury were persuaded that he had done it, of what use then would be all that money?


When that fear arose, then there arose also the question whether it might not be well to use the money to save him from such ruin, if it might be so used.

He wondered whether it might not be better to use the money to save him from such ruin,


No doubt all danger in that Longestaffe affair might be bought off by payment of the price stipulated for the Pickering property.


Neither would Dolly Longestaffe nor Squercum, of whom Mr. Melmotte had already heard, concern himself in this matter if the money claimed were paid.

Neither Dolly Longestaffe nor Squercum would concern themselves any further if the money were paid.


But then the money would be as good as wasted by such a payment, if, as he firmly believed, no sufficient evidence could be produced to prove the thing which he had done.

But then the money would be as good as wasted by such a payment, if - as he believed - no firm evidence of the forgery could be produced.


Perhaps in his admiration for the country of his adoption Mr. Melmotte had allowed himself to attach higher privileges to the British aristocracy than do in truth belong to them.

Perhaps Mr. Melmotte attached higher privileges to the British aristocracy than in truth belong to them.


He did in his heart believe that could he be known to all the world as the father-in-law of the eldest son of the Marquis of Auld Reekie he would become, not really free of the law, but almost safe from its fangs in regard to such an affair as this.

He really believed that if he became the father-in-law of the eldest son of the Marquis of Auld Reekie, he would be safe from the fangs of the law.


He thought he could so use the family with which he would be connected as to force from it that protection which he would need.


And then again, if he could tide over this bad time, how glorious would it be to have a British Marquis for his son-in-law!

And if he could tide over this bad time, how glorious would it be to have a Marquis for his son-in-law!


Like many others he had failed altogether to enquire when the pleasure to himself would come, or what would be its nature.


But he did believe that such a marriage would add a charm to his life.


Now he knew that Lord Nidderdale could not be got to marry his daughter without the positive assurance of absolute property, but he did think that the income which might thus be transferred with Marie, though it fell short of that which had been promised, might suffice for the time; and he had already given proof to the Marquis's lawyer that his daughter was possessed of the property in question.

He knew that Lord Nidderdale would not marry his daughter without property, but he thought that the funds which had been transferred to Marie might suffice; and he had already given proof to the Marquis's lawyer that his daughter possessed them.


And indeed, there was another complication which had arisen within the last few days and which had startled Mr. Melmotte very much indeed.

Now another complication had arisen which had startled Mr. Melmotte very much indeed.


On a certain morning he had sent for Marie to the study and had told her that he should require her signature in reference to a deed.

One morning he had sent for Marie to the study and had told her that he required her signature for a deed.


He had replied that it would be a document regarding money and reminded her that she had signed such a deed once before, telling her that it was all in the way of business.

He had replied that it was a document regarding money, and that she


It was not necessary that she should ask any more questions as she would be wanted only to sign the paper.

need not ask any more questions as she would be wanted only to sign the paper.


Then Marie astounded him, not merely by showing him that she understood a great deal more of the transaction than he had thought,--but also by a positive refusal to sign anything at all.

Then Marie astounded him, not merely by showing him that she understood a great deal more of the transaction than he had thought, but also by a refusal to sign anything at all.


The reader may understand that there had been many words between them.


It is that you may have the money to do what you like with.


You have been so unkind to me about Sir Felix Carbury that I won't do it.

"You have been so unkind to me about Sir Felix Carbury that I won't do it," she said.


If I ever marry the money will belong to my husband!"

"If I ever marry, the money will belong to my husband!"


His breath almost failed him as he listened to these words.

His breath almost failed him at these words.


He did not know whether to approach her with threats, with entreaties, or with blows.

He did not know whether to use threats, entreaties, or blows.


Before the interview was over he had tried all three.


He had told her that he could and would put her in prison for conduct so fraudulent.

: he told her that he would put her in prison


He besought her not to ruin her parent by such monstrous perversity.

, he besought her not to ruin her parent


And at last he took her by both arms and shook her violently.


He might cut her to pieces; but she would sign nothing.


"I suppose you thought Sir Felix would have had the entire sum," said the father with deriding scorn.


"And he would;--if he had the spirit to take it," answered Marie.


This was another reason for sticking to the Nidderdale plan.


He would no doubt lose the immediate income, but in doing so he would secure the Marquis.


He was therefore induced, on weighing in his nicest-balanced scales the advantages and disadvantages, to leave the Longestaffes unpaid and to let Nidderdale have the money.

On weighing things up, therefore, he decided to leave the Longestaffes unpaid and to let Nidderdale have the money.


Not that he could make up his mind to such a course with any conviction that he was doing the best for himself.


The dangers on all sides were very great!


But at the present moment audacity recommended itself to him, and this was the boldest stroke.


Marie had now said that she would accept Nidderdale,--or the sweep at the crossing.

Marie had now said that she would accept Nidderdale - or the sweep at the crossing.


On Monday morning,--it was on the preceding Thursday that he had made his famous speech in Parliament,--one of the Bideawhiles had come to him in the City.

On the Monday after his famous speech in Parliament, one of the Bideawhiles had come to him in the City,


He had told Mr. Bideawhile that all the world knew that just at the present moment money was very "tight" in the City.


"We are not asking for payment of a commercial debt," said Mr. Bideawhile, "but for the price of a considerable property which you have purchased."


Mr. Melmotte had suggested that the characteristics of the money were the same, let the sum in question have become due how it might.


Then he offered to make the payment in two bills at three and six months' date, with proper interest allowed.

Mr. Melmotte offered to make the payment in two bills at three and six months' date, with proper interest allowed.


But this offer Mr. Bideawhile scouted with indignation, demanding that the title-deeds might be restored to them.

But this offer Mr. Bideawhile rejected indignantly, demanding that the title-deeds should be restored to them.


"You have no right whatever to demand the title-deeds," said Melmotte.


"You can only claim the sum due, and I have already told you how I propose to pay it."


Mr. Bideawhile was nearly beside himself with dismay.


In the whole course of his business, in all the records of the very respectable firm to which he belonged, there had never been such a thing as this.

In the whole course of his business, there had never been such a thing as this.


Of course Mr. Longestaffe had been the person to blame,--so at least all the Bideawhiles declared among themselves.

Of course Mr. Longestaffe was to blame - so the Bideawhiles declared among themselves.


He had been so anxious to have dealings with the man of money that he had insisted that the title-deeds should be given up.


But then the title-deeds had not been his to surrender.

But the title-deeds had not been his to surrender


The Pickering estate had been the joint property of him and his son.

; for Pickering was the joint property of him and his son.


The house had been already pulled down, and now the purchaser offered bills in lieu of the purchase money!

The house had already been pulled down, and now the purchaser offered bills in lieu of money!


"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Melmotte, that you have not got the money to pay for what you have bought, and that nevertheless the title-deeds have already gone out of your hands?"

"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Melmotte, that you have not got the money to pay for what you have bought, and that the title-deeds have already gone out of your hands?"


"I have property to ten times the value, twenty times the value, thirty times the value," said Melmotte proudly; "but you must know I should think by this time that a man engaged in large affairs cannot always realise such a sum as eighty thousand pounds at a day's notice."

"I have property of ten times, twenty times the value," said Melmotte proudly; "but you must know that a man engaged in large affairs cannot always realise such a sum as eighty thousand pounds at a day's notice."


Mr. Bideawhile without using language that was absolutely vituperative gave Mr. Melmotte to understand that he thought that he and his client had been robbed, and that he should at once take whatever severest steps the law put in his power.

Mr. Bideawhile replied that he thought that his client had been robbed, and that he would at once take the severest steps the law put in his power.


As Mr. Melmotte shrugged his shoulders and made no further reply, Mr. Bideawhile could only take his departure.

As Mr. Melmotte shrugged his shoulders and made no further reply, Mr. Bideawhile could only depart.


The attorney, although he was bound to be staunch to his own client, and to his own house in opposition to Mr. Squercum, nevertheless was becoming doubtful in his own mind as to the genuineness of the letter which Dolly was so persistent in declaring that he had not signed.

Mr. Bideawhile was now doubtful about the genuineness of the letter which Dolly declared that he had not signed.


Mr. Longestaffe himself, who was at any rate an honest man, had given it as his opinion that Dolly had not signed the letter.


His son had certainly refused to sign it once, and as far as he knew could have had no opportunity of signing it since.


He was all but sure that he had left the letter under lock and key in his own drawer in the room which had latterly become Melmotte's study as well as his own.

asserted that he had left the letter locked in his own drawer in the room which had become Melmotte's study.


Then, on entering the room in Melmotte's presence,--their friendship at the time having already ceased,--he found that his drawer was open.

On entering the room with Mr. Bideawhile, in Melmotte's presence, he had found that his drawer was open.


This same Mr. Bideawhile was with him at the time.


"Do you mean to say that I have opened your drawer?"


Mr. Longestaffe had become very red in the face and had replied by saying that he certainly made no such accusation, but as certainly he had not left the drawer unlocked.

Mr. Longestaffe had become very red in the face and had replied that he made no such accusation, but he had certainly locked the drawer.


He knew his own habits and was sure that he had never left that drawer open in his life.

He knew his own habits and had never left that drawer open in his life.


"Then you must have changed the habits of your life on this occasion," said Mr. Melmotte with spirit.

"Then you must have changed your habits on this occasion," said Mr. Melmotte with spirit.


Mr. Longestaffe would trust himself to no other word within the house, but, when they were out in the street together, he assured the lawyer that certainly that drawer had been left locked, and that to the best of his belief the letter unsigned had been left within the drawer.

Mr. Longestaffe would trust himself to no other word within the house.


Mr. Bideawhile could only remark that it was the most unfortunate circumstance with which he had ever been concerned.

Mr. Bideawhile could only remark that it was most unfortunate.


The marriage with Nidderdale would upon the whole be the best thing, if it could only be accomplished.

The marriage with Nidderdale would upon the whole be the best thing, thought Melmotte, if it could be accomplished.


The reader must understand that though Mr. Melmotte had allowed himself considerable poetical licence in that statement as to property thirty times as great as the price which he ought to have paid for Pickering, still there was property.


The man's speculations had been so great and so wide that he did not really know what he owned, or what he owed.


But he did know that at the present moment he was driven very hard for large sums.


His chief trust for immediate money was in Cohenlupe, in whose hands had really been the manipulation of the shares of the Mexican railway.

His chief trust was in Cohenlupe, who dealt with the shares of the Mexican railway


He had trusted much to Cohenlupe,--more than it had been customary with him to trust to any man.

: to him he had trusted more than he normally trusted to any man.


Cohenlupe assured him that nothing could be done with the railway shares at the present moment.

Cohenlupe assured him that nothing could be done with the railway shares at present


They had fallen under the panic almost to nothing.


Now in the time of his trouble Melmotte wanted money from the great railway, but just because he wanted money the great railway was worth nothing.


Cohenlupe told him that he must tide over the evil hour,--or rather over an evil month.


It was at Cohenlupe's instigation that he had offered the two bills to Mr. Bideawhile.


"He must take the bills sooner or later."


On the Monday afternoon Melmotte met Lord Nidderdale in the lobby of the House.


Nidderdale had been assured that morning, by his father's lawyer, in his father's presence, that if he married Miss Melmotte at present he would undoubtedly become possessed of an income amounting to something over 5,000 a year.

Nidderdale had been assured that morning, by his father's lawyer, that if he married Miss Melmotte now he would undoubtedly become possessed of an income amounting to over 5,000 a year.


He had intended to get more than that,--and was hardly prepared to accept Marie at such a price; but then there probably would be more.

He had intended to get more than that; but then there probably would be more.


No doubt there was a difficulty about Pickering.


Melmotte certainly had been raising money.


But this might probably be an affair of a few weeks.


Melmotte had declared that Pickering should be made over to the young people at the marriage.

, and had declared that Pickering should be made over to the young people at the marriage.


His father had recommended him to get the girl to name a day.


The marriage could be broken off at the last day if the property were not forthcoming.

The marriage could be broken off at the last minute if the property were not forthcoming.


"I'm going up to your house almost immediately," said Nidderdale.

"I'm going up to your house now," said Nidderdale.


"You'll find the women at tea to a certainty between five and six," said Melmotte.

"You'll find the women at tea between five and six," said Melmotte.


In the meantime Marie Melmotte was living with Madame Melmotte in their lodgings up at Hampstead, and was taking quite a new look out into the world.

In the meantime Marie Melmotte was living with Madame Melmotte in the Hampstead lodgings, and was taking quite a new look at the world.


Fisker had become her devoted servant,--not with that old-fashioned service which meant making love, but with perhaps a truer devotion to her material interests.

Fisker had become her devoted servant in terms of her material interests.


He had ascertained on her behalf that she was the undoubted owner of the money which her father had made over to her on his first arrival in England,--and she also had made herself mistress of that fact with equal precision.

He had proved that she was the undoubted owner of the money which her father had made over to her.


It would have astonished those who had known her six months since could they now have seen how excellent a woman of business she had become, and how capable she was of making the fullest use of Mr. Fisker's services.

She had now become an excellent woman of business, and was making full use of Mr. Fisker's services.


In doing him justice it must be owned that he kept nothing back from her of that which he learned, probably feeling that he might best achieve success in his present project by such honesty,--feeling also, no doubt, the girl's own strength in discovering truth and falsehood.

To do him justice, he kept nothing back from her which he learned, probably feeling that he might best achieve success in his project by honesty.


"She's her father's own daughter," he said one day to Croll in Abchurch Lane;--for Croll, though he had left Melmotte's employment when he found that his name had been forged, had now returned to the service of the daughter in some undefined position, and had been engaged to go with her and Madame Melmotte to New York.

"She's her father's own daughter," he said one day to Croll in Abchurch Lane; for Croll had returned to the daughter's service, and was to go with her and Madame Melmotte to New York.


He vas passionate, and did lose his 'ead; and vas blow'd up vid bigness."


Whereupon Croll made an action as though he were a frog swelling himself to the dimensions of an ox.


'E vas a great man; but the greater he grew he vas always less and less vise.


'E ate so much that he became too fat to see to eat his vittels."


It was thus that Herr Croll analyzed the character of his late master.


"But Ma'me'selle,--ah, she is different.


She vill never eat too moch, but vill see to eat alvays."


Thus too he analyzed the character of his young mistress.


At first things did not arrange themselves pleasantly between Madame Melmotte and Marie.


The reader will perhaps remember that they were in no way connected by blood.

The reader will perhaps remember that they were not related by blood.


Madame Melmotte was not Marie's mother, nor, in the eye of the law, could Marie claim Melmotte as her father.


She was alone in the world, absolutely without a relation, not knowing even what had been her mother's name,--not even knowing what was her father's true name, as in the various biographies of the great man which were, as a matter of course, published within a fortnight of his death, various accounts were given as to his birth, parentage, and early history.

was alone in the world, absolutely without a relation, not knowing her mother's name - or even her father's true name. In the various biographies of the great man which were published within a fortnight of his death, various accounts were given as to his early history.


The general opinion seemed to be that his father had been a noted coiner in New York,--an Irishman of the name of Melmody,--and, in one memoir, the probability of the descent was argued from Melmotte's skill in forgery.

The general opinion seemed to be that his father had been a noted coiner in New York, an Irishman of the name of Melmody.


But Marie, though she was thus isolated, and now altogether separated from the lords and duchesses who a few weeks since had been interested in her career, was the undoubted owner of the money,--a fact which was beyond the comprehension of Madame Melmotte.

But Marie was the undoubted owner of the money - a fact which was beyond the comprehension of Madame Melmotte.


She could understand,--and was delighted to understand,--that a very large sum of money had been saved from the wreck, and that she might therefore look forward to prosperous tranquillity for the rest of her life.


Though she never acknowledged so much to herself, she soon learned to regard the removal of her husband as the end of her troubles.


But she could not comprehend why Marie should claim all the money as her own.


She declared herself to be quite willing to divide the spoil,--and suggested such an arrangement both to Marie and to Croll.


Of Fisker she was afraid, thinking that the iniquity of giving all the money to Marie originated with him, in order that he might obtain it by marrying the girl.


Croll, who understood it all perfectly, told her the story a dozen times,--but quite in vain.

Croll explained it to her a dozen times, but quite in vain.


She made a timid suggestion of employing a lawyer on her own behalf, and was only deterred from doing so by Marie's ready assent to such an arrangement.

However, her heart was softened by Marie's


Marie's equally ready surrender of any right she might have to a portion of the jewels which had been saved had perhaps some effect in softening the elder lady's heart.

surrender of the jewels which had been saved.


She thus was in possession of a treasure of her own,--though a treasure small in comparison with that of the younger woman; and the younger woman had promised that in the event of her marriage she would be liberal.

Madame Melmotte thus was in possession of a small treasure of her own.


It was distinctly understood that they were both to go to New York under Mr. Fisker's guidance as soon as things should be sufficiently settled to allow of their departure; and Madame Melmotte was told, about the middle of August, that their places had been taken for the 3rd of September.

Madame Melmotte was told that they were to sail for New York on the 3rd of September.


She did not as yet know whether Marie was to go out free or as the affianced bride of Hamilton Fisker.

She did not know whether Marie was affianced to Hamilton Fisker


And she felt herself injured by being left so much in the dark.

; and she felt herself injured by being left in the dark.


She herself was inimical to Fisker, regarding him as a dark, designing man, who would ultimately swallow up all that her husband had left behind him,--and trusted herself entirely to Croll, who was personally attentive to her.

She thought Fisker was a designing man, and trusted herself entirely to Croll.


Fisker was, of course, going on to San Francisco.


Marie also had talked of crossing the American continent.


But Madame Melmotte was disposed to think that for her, with her jewels, and such share of the money as Marie might be induced to give her, New York would be the most fitting residence.

But Madame Melmotte was disposed to prefer New York as a residence.


Why should she drag herself across the continent to California?


Herr Croll had declared his purpose of remaining in New York.


Then it occurred to the lady that as Melmotte was a name which might be too well known in New York, and which it therefore might be wise to change, Croll would do as well as any other.

Then it occurred to the lady that, as Melmotte was a name which might be too well known in New York, and which it therefore might be wise to change, Croll would do as well as any other.


She and Herr Croll had known each other for a great many years, and were, she thought, of about the same age.

She and Herr Croll had known each other for a great many years.


She had, at any rate, her jewels,--and Croll would probably be able to get some portion of all that money, which ought to be hers, if his affairs were made to be identical with her own.


So she smiled upon Croll, and whispered to him; and when she had given Croll two glasses of Curaoa,--which comforter she kept in her own hands, as safe-guarded almost as the jewels,--then Croll understood her.

So she smiled upon Croll, and whispered to him; and Croll understood her.


But it was essential that she should know what Marie intended to do.

But she needed to know what Marie intended to do.


Marie was anything but communicative, and certainly was not in any way submissive.


"My dear," she said one day, asking the question in French, without any preface or apology, "are you going to be married to Mr. Fisker?"

"My dear," she said one day, "are you going to be married to Mr. Fisker?"


If you go on asking me till to-morrow morning I can say no more."


It certainly was not Fisker's fault that she should still be in the dark as to her own destiny, for he had asked her often enough, and had pressed his suit with all his eloquence.

It certainly was not Fisker's fault, for he had asked her often enough.


But Marie had now been wooed so often that she felt the importance of the step which was suggested to her.

But Marie had now been wooed so many times that


The romance of the thing was with her a good deal worn, and the material view of matrimony had also been damaged in her sight.

the romance of the thing was worn and damaged.


She had fallen in love with Sir Felix Carbury, and had assured herself over and over again that she worshipped the very ground on which he stood.


But she had taught herself this business of falling in love as a lesson, rather than felt it.


After her father's first attempts to marry her to this and that suitor because of her wealth,--attempts which she had hardly opposed amidst the consternation and glitter of the world to which she was suddenly introduced,--she had learned from novels that it would be right that she should be in love, and she had chosen Sir Felix as her idol.


The reader knows what had been the end of that episode in her life.


She certainly was not now in love with Sir Felix Carbury.

, modelled on the books she had read, but she was not now in love with Sir Felix Carbury.


Then she had as it were relapsed into the hands of Lord Nidderdale,--one of her early suitors,--and had felt that as love was not to prevail, and as it would be well that she should marry some one, he might probably be as good as any other, and certainly better than many others.

Then she had as it were relapsed into the hands of Lord Nidderdale, and felt that he would probably be as good as any other.


She had almost learned to like Lord Nidderdale and to believe that he liked her, when the tragedy came.

She had almost learned to like him when the tragedy came, and


Lord Nidderdale had been very good-natured,--but he had deserted her at last.


She had never allowed herself to be angry with him for a moment.


It had been a matter of course that he should do so.


Her fortune was still large, but not so large as the sum named in the bargain made.


And it was moreover weighted with her father's blood.


From the moment of her father's death she had never dreamed that he would marry her.


Her thoughts in reference to Sir Felix were bitter enough;--but as against Nidderdale they were not at all bitter.


Should she ever meet him again she would shake hands with him and smile,--if not pleasantly as she thought of the things which were past,--at any rate with good humour.

Should she ever meet him again she would shake hands with him and smile.


But all this had not made her much in love with matrimony generally.


She had over a hundred thousand pounds of her own, and, feeling conscious of her own power in regard to her own money, knowing that she could do as she pleased with her wealth, she began to look out into life seriously.

She had over a hundred thousand pounds of her own, and knew that she could do as she pleased with her wealth.


What could she do with her money, and in what way would she shape her life, should she determine to remain her own mistress?

In what way would she shape her life, if she decided to remain her own mistress?


Were she to refuse Fisker how should she begin?

Were she to refuse Fisker, how should she begin?


He would then be banished, and her only remaining friends, the only persons whose names she would even know in her own country, would be her father's widow and Herr Croll.

If he were banished, her only remaining friends would be her father's widow and Herr Croll.


She already began to see Madame Melmotte's purport in reference to Croll, and could not reconcile herself to the idea of opening an establishment with them on a scale commensurate with her fortune.

She already guessed Madame Melmotte's purpose in reference to Croll, and did not wish to live with them.


Nor could she settle in her own mind any pleasant position for herself as a single woman, living alone in perfect independence.

Nor could she think it would be pleasant to live alone in perfect independence.


She had opinions of women's rights,--especially in regard to money; and she entertained also a vague notion that in America a young woman would not need support so essentially as in England.


Nevertheless, the idea of a fine house for herself in Boston, or Philadelphia,--for in that case she would have to avoid New York as the chosen residence of Madame Melmotte,--did not recommend itself to her.


As to Fisker himself,--she certainly liked him.

As to Fisker himself - she certainly liked him.


He was not beautiful like Felix Carbury, nor had he the easy good-humour of Lord Nidderdale.


She had seen enough of English gentlemen to know that Fisker was very unlike them.


But she had not seen enough of English gentlemen to make Fisker distasteful to her.


He told her that he had a big house at San Francisco, and she certainly desired to live in a big house.

But he told her that he had a big house at San Francisco, and she certainly desired to live in a big house.


He represented himself to be a thriving man, and she calculated that he certainly would not be here, in London, arranging her father's affairs, were he not possessed of commercial importance.

He represented himself as a thriving man, and she calculated that he certainly had commercial importance.


She had contrived to learn that, in the United States, a married woman has greater power over her own money than in England, and this information acted strongly in Fisker's favour.

She had learned that, in the United States, a married woman has greater power over her own money than in England, and this information acted strongly in Fisker's favour.


On consideration of the whole subject she was inclined to think that she would do better in the world as Mrs. Fisker than as Marie Melmotte,--if she could see her way clearly in the matter of her own money.

On consideration, she was inclined to think that she would do better in the world as Mrs. Fisker than as Marie Melmotte - if she could see her way clearly in the matter of her own money.


"I have got excellent berths," Fisker said to her one morning at Hampstead.


At these interviews, which were devoted first to business and then to love, Madame Melmotte was never allowed to be present.


"There is a cabin for Madame Melmotte and the maid, and a cabin for you.


And there is another lady going,--Mrs. Hurtle,--whom I think you will like."

And there is another lady going, Mrs. Hurtle, whom I think you will like."


"Not going with us," said Mr. Fisker evasively.


"Well, yes;--but you had better not mention him.

"Well, yes; but you had better not mention him.


He is not exactly all that a husband should be."


"Did she not come over here to marry some one else?"


--For Marie in the days of her sweet intimacy with Sir Felix Carbury had heard something of Mrs. Hurtle's story.


"There is a story, and I dare say I shall tell you all about it some day.


But you may be sure I should not ask you to associate with any one you ought not to know."

But you may be sure I should not ask you to associate with anyone you ought not to know."


But what I meant to observe was this,--that I certainly should not introduce a lady whom I aspire to make my own lady to any lady whom a lady oughtn't to know.

But I meant that I should not introduce a lady whom I hope to make my own lady to any lady whom a lady oughtn't to know.


I hope I make myself understood, Miss Melmotte."


"And perhaps I may go on to say that if I could go on board that ship as your accepted lover, I could do a deal more to make you comfortable, particularly when you land, than just as a mere friend, Miss Melmotte.

"And perhaps I may go on to say that if I could go on board that ship as your accepted lover, I could do a deal more to make you comfortable than just as a mere friend, Miss Melmotte.


Gentlemen's hearts are things very much to be doubted as far as I've seen 'em.

I think gentlemen's hearts are things very much to be doubted."


I don't think many of 'em have 'em at all."


"Miss Melmotte, you do not know the glorious west.


Your past experiences have been drawn from this effete and stone-cold country in which passion is no longer allowed to sway.

your experiences have been drawn from this effete and stone-cold country in which passion is allowed no sway.


On those golden shores which the Pacific washes man is still true,--and woman is still tender."

On those golden shores which the Pacific washes, man is still true, and woman is still tender."


"Perhaps I'd better wait and see, Mr. Fisker."


But this was not Mr. Fisker's view of the case.


There might be other men desirous of being true on those golden shores.


"And then," said he, pleading his cause not without skill, "the laws regulating woman's property there are just the reverse of those which the greediness of man has established here.


The wife there can claim her share of her husband's property, but hers is exclusively her own.


America is certainly the country for women,--and especially California."


"Ah;--I shall find out all about it, I suppose, when I've been there a few months."


"But you would enter San Francisco, Miss Melmotte, under such much better auspices,--if I may be allowed to say so,--as a married lady or as a lady just going to be married."

"But you would enter San Francisco, Miss Melmotte, under much better auspices as a married lady or as a lady just going to be married."


"Ain't single ladies much thought of in California?"


Come, Miss Melmotte, you know what I mean."


I'm spending 30,000 dollars a year,--at that rate,--in my own house.

I'm spending 30,000 dollars in my own house.


If we put them both together,--what's yours and what's mine,--we can put our foot out as far as about any one there, I guess."


"I don't know that I care about putting my foot out.


I've seen something of that already, Mr. Fisker.


You shouldn't put your foot out farther than you can draw it in again."


"You needn't fear me as to that, Miss Melmotte.


And I shouldn't be able to touch a dollar of your money.


It would be such a triumph to go into Francisco as man and wife."

It would be such a triumph to go into Frisco as man and wife."


"I shouldn't think of being married till I had been there a while and looked about me."


I'm not a bit afraid but what you'll like the house.


But if we were engaged, I could do every thing for you.

But if we were engaged, I could do everything for you.


Where would you be, going into San Francisco all alone?


Oh, Miss Melmotte, I do admire you so much!"


I doubt whether this last assurance had much efficacy.


But the arguments with which it was introduced did prevail to a certain extent.


"I'll tell you how it must be then," she said.


and as he asked the question he jumped up and put his arm round her waist.


"Not like that, Mr. Fisker," she said, withdrawing herself.


You may consider yourself engaged to me."


"I'm the happiest man on this continent," he said, forgetting in his ecstasy that he was not in the United States.

"I'm the happiest man on this continent," he said.


"But if I find when I get to Francisco anything to induce me to change my mind, I shall change it.

"But if I find when I get to San Francisco anything to induce me to change my mind, I shall change it.


I like you very well, but I'm not going to take a leap in the dark, and I'm not going to marry a pig in a poke."


"There you're quite right," he said,--"quite right."


"You may give it out on board the ship that we're engaged, and I'll tell Madame Melmotte the same.


She and Croll don't mean going any farther than New York."


"We needn't break our hearts about that;--need we?"


Well;--I'll go on with Mrs. Hurtle, if she'll have me."


"But if I don't like it when I get to Frisco, as you call it, all the ropes in California shan't make me do it.

but if I don't like it when I get to Frisco, as you call it, all the ropes in California shan't make me do it.


Well;--yes; you may give me a kiss I suppose now if you care about it."

Well; you may give me a kiss now if you care to."


And so,--or rather so far,--Mr. Fisker and Marie Melmotte became engaged to each other as man and wife.


After that Mr. Fisker's remaining business in England went very smoothly with him.


It was understood up at Hampstead that he was engaged to Marie Melmotte,--and it soon came to be understood also that Madame Melmotte was to be married to Herr Croll.


No doubt the father of the one lady and the husband of the other had died so recently as to make these arrangements subject to certain censorious objections.


But there was a feeling that Melmotte had been so unlike other men, both in his life and in his death, that they who had been concerned with him were not to be weighed by ordinary scales.


Nor did it much matter, for the persons concerned took their departure soon after the arrangement was made, and Hampstead knew them no more.


On the 3rd of September Madame Melmotte, Marie, Mrs. Hurtle, Hamilton K. Fisker, and Herr Croll left Liverpool for New York; and the three ladies were determined that they never would revisit a country of which their reminiscences certainly were not happy.

On the 3rd of September Madame Melmotte, Marie, Mrs. Hurtle, Hamilton Fisker, and Herr Croll left Liverpool for New York; and the three ladies were determined that they would never return to England.


The writer of the present chronicle may so far look forward,--carrying his reader with him,--as to declare that Marie Melmotte did become Mrs. Fisker very soon after her arrival at San Francisco.

The writer may so far look forward as to declare that Marie Melmotte did become Mrs. Fisker very soon after her arrival at San Francisco.


Lady Monogram retired from Mr. Melmotte's house in disgust as soon as she was able to escape; but we must return to it for a short time.

Lady Monogram retired from Mr. Melmotte's house in disgust as soon as she could escape; but we must return to it for a short time.


When the guests were once in the drawing-room the immediate sense of failure passed away.

Once the guests were in the drawing-room the sense of failure passed away.


The crowd never became so thick as had been anticipated.


They who were knowing in such matters had declared that the people would not be able to get themselves out of the room till three or four o'clock in the morning, and that the carriages would not get themselves out of the Square till breakfast time.


With a view to this kind of thing Mr. Melmotte had been told that he must provide a private means of escape for his illustrious guests, and with a considerable sacrifice of walls and general house arrangements this had been done.


No such gathering as was expected took place; but still the rooms became fairly full, and Mr. Melmotte was able to console himself with the feeling that nothing certainly fatal had as yet occurred.

; but still the rooms were fairly full, and Mr. Melmotte consoled himself with the feeling that nothing fatal had as yet occurred.


There can be no doubt that the greater part of the people assembled did believe that their host had committed some great fraud which might probably bring him under the arm of the law.

There can be no doubt that most of the people there did believe that their host had committed some great fraud which might bring him under the arm of the law.


When such rumours are spread abroad, they are always believed.


There is an excitement and a pleasure in believing them.


Reasonable hesitation at such a moment is dull and phlegmatic.


If the accused one be near enough to ourselves to make the accusation a matter of personal pain, of course we disbelieve.

As long as the accused one is not near to ourselves


But, if the distance be beyond this, we are almost ready to think that anything may be true of anybody.

, we are almost ready to think anything of anybody.


In this case nobody really loved Melmotte and everybody did believe.


It was so probable that such a man should have done something horrible!


It was only hoped that the fraud might be great and horrible enough.


Melmotte himself during that part of the evening which was passed up-stairs kept himself in the close vicinity of royalty.


He behaved certainly very much better than he would have done had he had no weight at his heart.

behaved very much better than he would have done had he had no weight at his heart.


He made few attempts at beginning any conversation, and answered, at any rate with brevity, when he was addressed.

He made few attempts at beginning any conversation, and answered with brevity when he was addressed.


With scrupulous care he ticked off on his memory the names of those who had come and whom he knew, thinking that their presence indicated a verdict of acquittal from them on the evidence already before them.

With scrupulous care he ticked off on his memory the names of those who had come, thinking that their presence indicated a verdict of acquittal from them.


Seeing the members of the Government all there, he wished that he had come forward in Westminster as a Liberal.


And he freely forgave those omissions of Royalty as to which he had been so angry at the India Office, seeing that not a Prince or Princess was lacking of those who were expected.


He could turn his mind to all this, although he knew how great was his danger.


Many things occurred to him as he stood, striving to smile as a host should smile.


It might be the case that half-a-dozen detectives were already stationed in his own hall,--perhaps one or two, well dressed, in the very presence of royalty,--ready to arrest him as soon as the guests were gone, watching him now lest he should escape.

Half-a-dozen detectives might be already stationed in his own hall, ready to arrest him as soon as the guests were gone.


He had always lived with the consciousness that such a burden was on him and might crush him at any time.

He had always lived with the consciousness that such a burden lay on him and might crush him at any time.


He had known that he had to run these risks.


He had told himself a thousand times that when the dangers came, dangers alone should never cow him.

, and had told himself that they should never cow him.


He had always endeavoured to go as near the wind as he could, to avoid the heavy hand of the criminal law of whatever country he inhabited.

He had always tried to go as near the wind as he could, while avoiding the heavy hand of the criminal law


He had studied the criminal laws, so that he might be sure in his reckonings; but he had always felt that he might be carried by circumstances into deeper waters than he intended to enter.

; but he had also felt that he might be carried into deeper waters than he intended to enter.


As the soldier who leads a forlorn hope, or as the diver who goes down for pearls, or as the searcher for wealth on fever-breeding coasts, knows that as his gains may be great, so are his perils, Melmotte had been aware that in his life, as it opened itself out to him, he might come to terrible destruction.


He had not always thought, or even hoped, that he would be as he was now, so exalted as to be allowed to entertain the very biggest ones of the earth; but the greatness had grown upon him,--and so had the danger.

Melmotte had not always thought, or even hoped, that he would be so exalted as he was now; but the greatness had grown upon him - and so had the danger.


He could not now be as exact as he had been.


He was prepared himself to bear all mere ignominy with a tranquil mind,--to disregard any shouts of reprobation which might be uttered, and to console himself when the bad quarter of an hour should come with the remembrance that he had garnered up a store sufficient for future wants and placed it beyond the reach of his enemies.

He had prepared himself to bear all mere ignominy with a tranquil mind, and to remember that he had garnered up a store sufficient for future needs and placed it beyond the reach of his enemies.


But as his intellect opened up to him new schemes, and as his ambition got the better of his prudence, he gradually fell from the security which he had preconceived, and became aware that he might have to bear worse than ignominy.

But now he became aware that he might have to bear worse than ignominy.


Perhaps never in his life had he studied his own character and his own conduct more accurately, or made sterner resolves, than he did as he stood there smiling, bowing, and acting without impropriety the part of host to an Emperor.

Perhaps never in his life had he studied his own character and conduct more accurately, or made sterner resolves, than he did as he stood there smiling and bowing.


He had risen too high to be a successful fugitive, even should he succeed in getting off before hands were laid upon him.


He must bide his ground, if only that he might not at once confess his own guilt by flight; and he would do so with courage.

He must stand his ground, and not confess his own guilt by flight.


Looking back at the hour or two that had just passed he was aware that he had allowed himself not only to be frightened in the dinner-room,--but also to seem to be frightened.

Looking back at the past hour or two he was aware that he had allowed himself to be frightened - and also to seem to be frightened.


The thing had come upon him unawares and he had been untrue to himself.


He should not have asked those questions of Mr. Todd and Mr. Beauclerk, and should have been more good-humoured than usual with Lord Alfred in discussing those empty seats.

He should not have asked those questions of Mr. Todd and Mr. Beauclerk.


The blow had come upon him too suddenly, and he had faltered.


Nothing should cow him,--no touch from a policeman, no warrant from a magistrate, no defalcation of friends, no scorn in the City, no solitude in the West End.

No policeman or magistrate, no defection of friends, no scorn in the City would affect him.


He would go down among the electors to-morrow and would stand his ground, as though all with him were right.

He would go down among the electors tomorrow as though all were right.


Men should know at any rate that he had a heart within his bosom.


And he confessed also to himself that he had sinned in that matter of arrogance.


He could see it now,--as so many of us do see the faults which we have committed, which we strive, but in vain, to discontinue, and which we never confess except to our own bosoms.


The task which he had imposed on himself, and to which circumstances had added weight, had been very hard to bear.


He should have been good-humoured to these great ones whose society he had gained.


He should have bound these people to him by a feeling of kindness as well as by his money.


And he could see too that there was no help for spilt milk.


I think he took some pride in his own confidence as to his own courage, as he stood there turning it all over in his mind.

I think he took some pride in his confidence as to his own courage, as he stood there turning it all over in his mind.


But the task of unravelling it all would not be easy.


It is the small vermin and the little birds that are trapped at once.

It is the small vermin that are trapped at once


But wolves and vultures can fight hard before they are caught.

; but wolves and vultures can fight hard before they are caught.


With the means which would still be at his command, let the worst come to the worst, he could make a strong fight.


When a man's frauds have been enormous there is a certain safety in their very diversity and proportions.


Might it not be that the fact that these great ones of the earth had been his guests should speak in his favour?


A man who had in very truth had the real brother of the Sun dining at his table could hardly be sent into the dock and then sent out of it like a common felon.

A man who had had the brother of the Sun dining at his table could hardly be sent into the dock like a common felon.


Madame Melmotte during the evening stood at the top of her own stairs with a chair behind her on which she could rest herself for a moment when any pause took place in the arrivals.

Madame Melmotte during the evening stood at the top of her own stairs greeting the arrivals.


She had of course dined at the table,--or rather sat there;--but had been so placed that no duty had devolved upon her.


She had heard no word of the rumours, and would probably be the last person in that house to hear them.


It never occurred to her to see whether the places down the table were full or empty.


She sat with her large eyes fixed on the Majesty of China and must have wondered at her own destiny at finding herself with an Emperor and Princes to look at.

She sat with her large eyes fixed on the Majesty of China.


From the dining-room she had gone when she was told to go, up to the drawing-room, and had there performed her task, longing only for the comfort of her bedroom.


She, I think, had but small sympathy with her husband in all his work, and but little understanding of the position in which she had been placed.


Money she liked, and comfort, and perhaps diamonds and fine dresses, but she can hardly have taken pleasure in duchesses or have enjoyed the company of the Emperor.


From the beginning of the Melmotte era it had been an understood thing that no one spoke to Madame Melmotte.


Marie Melmotte had declined a seat at the dinner-table.


This at first had been cause of quarrel between her and her father, as he desired to have seen her next to young Lord Nidderdale as being acknowledged to be betrothed to him.

This had caused a quarrel between her and her father, as he wanted her to be seen sitting next to Lord Nidderdale.


But since the journey to Liverpool he had said nothing on the subject.


He still pressed the engagement, but thought now that less publicity might be expedient.


She was, however, in the drawing-room standing at first by Madame Melmotte, and afterwards retreating among the crowd.

She was, however, in the drawing-room, standing at first by Madame Melmotte, and afterwards retreating among the crowd.


To some ladies she was a person of interest as the young woman who had lately run away under such strange circumstances; but no one spoke to her till she saw a girl whom she herself knew, and whom she addressed, plucking up all her courage for the occasion.

To some ladies she was a person of interest; but no one spoke to her till she saw a girl whom she knew, and whom she addressed, plucking up all her courage.


This was Hetta Carbury who had been brought hither by her mother.

This was Hetta Carbury, who had been brought by her mother.


The tickets for Lady Carbury and Hetta had of course been sent before the elopement;--and also, as a matter of course, no reference had been made to them by the Melmotte family after the elopement.

The tickets for Lady Carbury and Hetta had of course been sent before the elopement; and


Lady Carbury herself was anxious that that affair should not be considered as having given cause for any personal quarrel between herself and Mr. Melmotte, and in her difficulty had consulted Mr. Broune.

Lady Carbury was anxious that that affair should not be seen to have caused any personal quarrel between herself and Mr. Melmotte. In her difficulty she had consulted Mr. Broune


Mr. Broune was the staff on which she leant at present in all her difficulties.


All this of course took place while Melmotte's name was as yet unsullied as snow.


Mr. Broune saw no reason why Lady Carbury should not take advantage of her tickets.

, and who saw no reason why she should not go.


These invitations were simply tickets to see the Emperor surrounded by the Princes.


The young lady's elopement is "no affair of yours," Mr. Broune had said.

"The young lady's elopement is no affair of yours," Mr. Broune had said.


"I should go, if it were only for the sake of showing that you did not consider yourself to be implicated in the matter."

"I should go, if only to show that you do not consider yourself implicated in the matter."


Lady Carbury did as she was advised, and took her daughter with her.


"Nonsense," said the mother, when Hetta objected; "Mr. Broune sees it quite in the right light.


This is a grand demonstration in honour of the Emperor, rather than a private party;--and we have done nothing to offend the Melmottes.


A few minutes before they started from Welbeck Street a note came from Mr. Broune, written in pencil and sent from Melmotte's house by a Commissioner.

A few minutes before they started from Welbeck Street a note came from Mr. Broune:


I am here and as far as I can see it is all right.


The E. is beautiful, and P.'s are as thick as blackberries."


Lady Carbury, who had not been in the way of hearing the reports, understood nothing of this; but of course she went.

Lady Carbury understood nothing of this; but of course she went.


Hetta was standing alone in a corner, near to her mother, who was talking to Mr. Booker, with her eyes fixed on the awful tranquillity of the Emperor's countenance, when Marie Melmotte timidly crept up to her and asked her how she was.

Hetta was standing alone in a corner, with her eyes fixed on the awful tranquillity of the Emperor's countenance, when Marie Melmotte timidly crept up and asked her how she was.


Hetta, probably, was not very cordial to the poor girl, being afraid of her, partly as the daughter of the great Melmotte and partly as the girl with whom her brother had failed to run away; but Marie was not rebuked by this.

Hetta was probably not very cordial to the poor girl, as the daughter of the great Melmotte with whom her brother had failed to run away.


"I hope you won't be angry with me for speaking to you."

"I hope you won't be angry with me for speaking to you," said Marie.


She could not be angry with the girl for speaking to her, feeling that she was there as the guest of the girl's mother.


"I suppose you know about your brother," said Marie, whispering with her eyes turned to the ground.


"Oh, I do so wish that I knew the truth.


I hope you don't think I would have done it if I hadn't loved him better than anybody in the world.

I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't loved him better than anybody in the world.


Don't you think that if a girl loves a man,--really loves him,--that ought to go before everything?"

Don't you think that if a girl really loves a man, that ought to go before everything?"


This was a question that Hetta was hardly prepared to answer.


She felt quite certain that under no circumstances would she run away with a man.

She felt certain that under no circumstances would she run away with a man.


What's the good of anything if you're to be broken-hearted?

What's the good of anything if you're broken-hearted?


I don't care what they say of me, or what they do to me, if he would only be true to me.

I don't care what they do to me, if he would only be true to me.


Why doesn't he--let me know--something about it?"

Why doesn't he let me know - something about it?"


This also was a question difficult to be answered.


Since that horrid morning on which Sir Felix had stumbled home drunk,--which was now four days since,--he had not left the house in Welbeck Street till this evening.

Since that horrid morning on which Sir Felix had stumbled home drunk, four days ago, he had not left the house in Welbeck Street till this evening.


He had gone out a few minutes before Lady Carbury had started, but up to that time he had almost kept his bed.


He would not get up till dinner-time, would come down after some half-dressed fashion, and then get back to his bedroom, where he would smoke and drink brandy-and-water and complain of headache.

till dinner-time, would come down half-dressed, and then go back to his bedroom, where he would smoke and drink brandy-and-water and complain of headache.


The theory was that he was ill;--but he was in fact utterly cowed and did not dare to show himself at his usual haunts.

The theory was that he was ill; but he was in fact utterly cowed and did not dare to show himself at his usual haunts.


He was aware that he had quarrelled at the club, aware that all the world knew of his intended journey to Liverpool, aware that he had tumbled about the streets intoxicated.


He had not dared to show himself, and the feeling had grown upon him from day to day.


Now, fairly worn out by his confinement, he had crept out intending, if possible, to find consolation with Ruby Ruggles.

This evening, worn out by his confinement, he had crept out intending, if possible, to find consolation with Ruby Ruggles.


You can understand what it is to love him as I do;--can't you?"


"Why does he not come to me, or send to me; or let me know something?

"Why does he not come to me, or send word to me?


Tell me,--you must know,--does he really care for me?"

Tell me - you must know - does he really care for me?"


The real feeling betrayed by the girl recommended her.


Hetta could not but sympathize with the affection manifested for her own brother, though she could hardly understand the want of reticence displayed by Marie in thus speaking of her love to one who was almost a stranger.

made Hetta sympathize with her, though she could hardly understand Marie's lack of reticence in speaking of her love to one who was almost a stranger.


"Felix hardly ever talks about himself to me," she said.


"If he doesn't care for me, there shall be an end of it," Marie said very gravely.


If I thought that he loved me, I'd go through,--oh,--all the world for him.

If I thought that he loved me, I'd go through anything for him.


Nothing that papa could say should stop me.


I have never talked to any one but you about it.

I have never talked to anyone but you about it.


That's my feeling, and I'm not a bit ashamed of it.


But it's very bad to get married without being in love.


"It is bad," said Hetta, thinking of Roger Carbury.


continued Marie, sinking her voice to a low whisper, but still making her words quite audible to her companion.


Now Hetta was strongly of opinion that her brother did not in the least "care for" Marie Melmotte, and that it would be very much for the best that Marie Melmotte should know the truth.

Now Hetta was strongly of the opinion that her brother did not in the least care for her, and thought that Marie should know the truth.


But she had not that sort of strength which would have enabled her to tell it.

But she had not the strength to tell it.


"Tell me just what you think," said Marie.


He is my brother,--and of course I love you for loving him."

He is my brother, and of course I love you for loving him."


This was almost more than Hetta meant; but she felt herself constrained to say some gracious word.

This was almost more than Hetta meant; but she felt obliged to say some gracious word.


That man there, Lord Nidderdale, wants to marry me.


He is very nice; but he does not love me any more than he loves you.

He is very nice; but he does not love me.


I would go with Felix and slave for him if he were poor.


Hetta, doubting as to the propriety of the promise, promised that she would.

Hetta, though doubting the propriety of this, promised that she would.


"Just tell him I want to know; that's all.


Then I shall not care what happens to me.


I suppose I shall marry that young man, though it will be very bad.


I shall just be as if I hadn't any self of my own at all.

I shall just be as if I hadn't any self of my own.


But he ought to send me word after all that has passed.


Do not you think he ought to send me word?"


"You tell him, then," said Marie, nodding her head as she crept away.

"You tell him, then," said Marie, as she crept away.


Nidderdale had been observing her while she had been talking to Miss Carbury.


He had heard the rumour, and of course felt that it behoved him to be on his guard more specially than any one else.


But he had not believed what he had heard.


That men should be thoroughly immoral, that they should gamble, get drunk, run into debt, and make love to other men's wives, was to him a matter of every-day life.

That men should gamble, get drunk, run into debt, and make love to other men's wives, was to him a matter of everyday life.


Nothing of that kind shocked him at all.


But he was not as yet quite old enough to believe in swindling.

But he was not yet quite old enough to believe in swindling.


It had been impossible to convince him that Miles Grendall had cheated at cards, and the idea that Mr. Melmotte had forged was as improbable and shocking to him as that an officer should run away in battle.


Common soldiers, he thought, might do that sort of thing.


He had almost fallen in love with Marie when he saw her last, and was inclined to feel the more kindly to her now because of the hard things that were being said about her father.

He had almost fallen in love with Marie when he saw her last, and was inclined to feel kindly to her now because of the hard things that were being said about her father.


And yet he knew that he must be careful.


If "he came a cropper" in this matter, it would be such an awful cropper!


I think the Emperor is the greatest fun I ever saw.


Prince Frederic,"--one of the German princes who was staying at the time among his English cousins,--"Prince Frederic says that he's stuffed with hay, and that he's made up fresh every morning at a shop in the Haymarket."

Prince Frederic says that he's stuffed with hay."


I think he's the grandest old buffer out, and I'm awfully glad that I've dined with him.


I couldn't make out whether he really put anything to eat into his jolly old mouth."

I couldn't make out whether he really ate anything."


"Have you been thinking about what we were talking about the other day?"

"Have you thought of what we were talking about the other day?"


"No, my lord,--I haven't thought about it since.


"Well;--it's a sort of thing that people do think about, you know."


"I've been thinking about nothing else the last three months."


"You've been thinking whether you'd get married or not."


"That's what I mean," said Lord Nidderdale.


Oh, goodness;--they're all going, and we must get out of the way.

Oh, goodness; they're all going, and we must get out of the way.


Is that Prince Frederic, who told you about the hay?


And who is that in the violet dress;--with all the pearls?"


"Dear me;--isn't it odd, having a lot of people in one's own house, and not being able to speak a word to them?

Isn't it odd, having a lot of people in one's own house, and not being able to speak a word to them?


And then the people went, and when they had all gone Melmotte put his wife and daughter into his own carriage, telling them that he would follow them on foot to Bruton Street when he had given some last directions to the people who were putting out the lights, and extinguishing generally the embers of the entertainment.

The people went. When they had all gone Melmotte put his wife and daughter into his carriage, telling them that he would follow them on foot to Bruton Street after giving some last directions to the servants.


He had looked round for Lord Alfred, taking care to avoid the appearance of searching; but Lord Alfred had gone.

He looked round for Lord Alfred; but Lord Alfred had gone.


Lord Alfred was one of those who knew when to leave a falling house.


Melmotte at the moment thought of all that he had done for Lord Alfred, and it was something of the real venom of ingratitude that stung him at the moment rather than this additional sign of coming evil.

Melmotte thought of all that he had done for Lord Alfred, and the venom of ingratitude stung him.


He was more than ordinarily gracious as he put his wife into the carriage, and remarked that, considering all things, the party had gone off very well.

He was unusually gracious as he put his wife into the carriage, and remarked that the party had gone off very well.


"I only wish it could have been done a little cheaper," he said laughing.

"I only wish it could have been done a little cheaper," he said, laughing.


Then he went back into the house, and up into the drawing-rooms which were now utterly deserted.

Then he went back into the house, and up into the deserted drawing-rooms.


Some of the lights had been put out, but the men were busy in the rooms below, and he threw himself into the chair in which the Emperor had sat.

The men were busy in the rooms below, and he threw himself into the chair in which the Emperor had sat.


It was wonderful that he should come to such a fate as this;--that he, the boy out of the gutter, should entertain at his own house, in London, a Chinese Emperor and English and German Royalty,--and that he should do so almost with a rope round his neck.

It was wonderful that he, the boy out of the gutter, should entertain at his own house a Chinese Emperor and English and German Royalty - and that he should do so almost with a rope round his neck.


Even if this were to be the end of it all, men would at any rate remember him.


The grand dinner which he had given before he was put into prison would live in history.


And it would be remembered, too, that he had been the Conservative candidate for the great borough of Westminster,--perhaps, even, the elected member.

And it would be remembered, too, that he had been the Conservative candidate for Westminster - perhaps the elected member.


He, too, in his manner, assured himself that a great part of him would escape Oblivion.


"Non omnis moriar," in some language of his own, was chanted by him within his own breast, as he sat there looking out on his own magnificent suite of rooms from the arm-chair which had been consecrated by the use of an Emperor.

thought, as he sat there looking at his magnificent suite of rooms from the arm-chair which had been consecrated by the use of an Emperor.


No policemen had come to trouble him yet.


No hint that he would be "wanted" had been made to him.


There was no tangible sign that things were not to go on as they went before.


Things would be exactly as they were before, but for the absence of those guests from the dinner-table, and for the words which Miles Grendall had spoken.


Had he not allowed himself to be terrified by shadows?

Had he allowed himself to be terrified by shadows?


Of course he had known that there must be such shadows.


His life had been made dark by similar clouds before now, and he had lived through the storms which had followed them.

His life had been made dark by similar clouds before now, and he had lived through the storms.


He was thoroughly ashamed of the weakness which had overcome him at the dinner-table, and of that palsy of fear which he had allowed himself to exhibit.

He was thoroughly ashamed of the weakness and fear which had overcome him at the dinner-table.


There should be no more shrinking such as that.


When people talked of him they should say that he was at least a man.


As this was passing through his mind a head was pushed in through one of the doors, and immediately withdrawn.

As this was passing through his mind a head was pushed in through one of the doors.


I'm just going home, and came up here to see how the empty rooms would look after they were all gone.

I came up here to see how the empty rooms would look after they were all gone.


"I suppose he did," said Melmotte, unable to hinder himself from throwing a certain tone of scorn into his voice,--as though proclaiming the fate of his own house and the consequent running away of the rat.

"I suppose he did," said Melmotte, unable to prevent a certain scorn entering his voice.


"Very well," said Miles, still standing at the door.


There had been a few words of consultation between him and his father,--only a very few words.

There had been a few words of consultation between him and his father.


"You'd better see it out to-night, as you've had a regular salary, and all that.

"You'd better see it out tonight," his father had said, "as you've had a regular salary.


I sha'n't go near him to-morrow till I find out how things are going.

I shan't go near him till I find out how things are going.


By G----, I've had about enough of him."


But hardly enough of his money,--or it may be presumed that Lord Alfred would have "hooked it" sooner.


"Why don't you come in, and not stand there?"


"There's no Emperor here now for you to be afraid of."


"I'm afraid of nobody," said Miles, walking into the middle of the room.

"I'm afraid of nobody," said Miles, walking into the room.


What's one man that another man should be afraid of him?


We've got to die, and there'll be an end of it, I suppose."


"That's about it," said Miles, hardly following the working of his master's mind.


When a man has worked as I have done, he gets about tired at my age.

When a man has worked as I have done, he gets tired.


I suppose I'd better be down at the committee-room about ten to-morrow?"

I suppose I'd better be down at the committee-room about ten tomorrow?"


Miles Grendall assented slowly, and with imperfect assent.


"And tell your father he might as well be there as early as convenient."

"And tell your father he might as well be there early."


"All right," said Miles as he took his departure.


If any evil can be done to me by treachery and desertion, they will do it."


Then it occurred to him to think whether the Grendall article had been worth all the money that he had paid for it.


He walked down into the hall, and through the banqueting-room, and stood at the place where he himself had sat.

He walked down into the hall, and through the banqueting-room.


What a scene it had been, and how frightfully low his heart had sunk within him!


It had been the defection of the Lord Mayor that had hit him hardest.

The defection of the Lord Mayor had hit him the hardest.


The men went on with their work, not noticing him, and probably not knowing him.


The dinner had been done by contract, and the contractor's foreman was there.


The care of the house and the alterations had been confided to another contractor, and his foreman was waiting to see the place locked up.


A confidential clerk, who had been with Melmotte for years, and who knew his ways, was there also to guard the property.

A clerk who had been with Melmotte for years, and who knew his ways, was there to guard the property.


"Good night, Croll," he said to the man in German.


Croll touched his hat and bade him good night.


Melmotte listened anxiously to the tone of the man's voice, trying to catch from it some indication of the mind within.

Melmotte listened anxiously to the tone of the man's voice.


Did Croll know of these rumours, and if so, what did he think of them?


Croll had known him in some perilous circumstances before, and had helped him through them.

Croll had helped him through perils before.


He paused a moment as though he would ask a question, but resolved at last that silence would be safest.

He paused as though he would ask a question, but resolved at last that silence would be safest.


"You'll see everything safe, eh, Croll?"


Croll said that he would see everything safe, and Melmotte passed out into the Square.

Croll said that he would, and Melmotte passed out into the Square.


He had not far to go, round through Berkeley Square into Bruton Street, but he stood for a few moments looking up at the bright stars.

He had not far to go to Bruton Street, but he stood for a few moments looking up at the bright stars.


If he could be there, in one of those unknown distant worlds, with all his present intellect and none of his present burdens, he would, he thought, do better than he had done here on earth.


If he could even now put himself down nameless, fameless, and without possessions in some distant corner of the world, he could, he thought, do better.


But he was Augustus Melmotte, and he must bear his burdens, whatever they were, to the end.

But he was Augustus Melmotte, and he must bear his burdens to the end.


He could reach no place so distant but that he would be known and traced.

He could reach no place so distant that he would not be known and traced.


[Illustration: Mr. Melmotte speculates.]


About this time, a fortnight or nearly so before the election, Mr. Longestaffe came up to town and saw Mr. Melmotte very frequently.

At this time, a fortnight before the election, Mr. Longestaffe came up to town and saw Mr. Melmotte very frequently.

Chapter 45: Mr. Melmotte is Pressed for Time


He could not go into his own house, as he had let that for a month to the great financier, nor had he any establishment in town; but he slept at an hotel and lived at the Carlton.

He could not go into his own house, as he had let that for a month to the great financier, but he lived at the Carlton.


He was quite delighted to find that his new friend was an honest Conservative, and he himself proposed the honest Conservative at the club.

He was delighted to find that his new friend was an honest Conservative, and proposed him as a member at the club.


There was some idea of electing Mr. Melmotte out of hand, but it was decided that the club could not go beyond its rule, and could only admit Mr. Melmotte out of his regular turn as soon as he should occupy a seat in the House of Commons.

However, according to the rules it was decided that the club could only admit Mr. Melmotte once he occupied a seat in the House of Commons.


Mr. Melmotte, who was becoming somewhat arrogant, was heard to declare that if the club did not take him when he was willing to be taken, it might do without him.

Mr. Melmotte, who was becoming somewhat arrogant, was heard to declare that the club might do without him.


If not elected at once, he should withdraw his name.


So great was his prestige at this moment with his own party that there were some, Mr. Longestaffe among the number, who pressed the thing on the committee.

So great was his prestige at this moment that there were some, Mr. Longestaffe included, who tried to persuade the committee


that Mr. Melmotte was not like other men.


It was a great thing to have Mr. Melmotte in the party.


Mr. Melmotte's financial capabilities would in themselves be a tower of strength.


Rules were not made to control the club in a matter of such importance as this.

Rules should not control the club in a matter of such importance as this.


A noble lord, one among seven who had been named as a fit leader of the Upper House on the Conservative side in the next session, was asked to take the matter up; and men thought that the thing might have been done had he complied.


But he was old-fashioned, perhaps pig-headed; and the club for the time lost the honour of entertaining Mr. Melmotte.

But the club for the time lost the honour of entertaining Mr. Melmotte.


It may be remembered that Mr. Longestaffe had been anxious to become one of the directors of the Mexican Railway, and that he was rather snubbed than encouraged when he expressed his wish to Mr. Melmotte.

It may be remembered that Mr. Longestaffe had been anxious to become one of the directors of the Mexican Railway, and that he was snubbed when he expressed his wish to Mr. Melmotte.


Like other great men, Mr. Melmotte liked to choose his own time for bestowing favours.


Since that request was made the proper time had come, and he had now intimated to Mr. Longestaffe that in a somewhat altered condition of things there would be a place for him at the Board, and that he and his brother directors would be delighted to avail themselves of his assistance.

The time had now come, and he had let Mr. Longestaffe know that there would be a place for him at the Board.


The alliance between Mr. Melmotte and Mr. Longestaffe had become very close.


The Melmottes had visited the Longestaffes at Caversham.


Georgiana Longestaffe was staying with Madame Melmotte in London.


The Melmottes were living in Mr. Longestaffe's town house, having taken it for a month at a very high rent.


Mr. Longestaffe now had a seat at Mr. Melmotte's board.


And Mr. Melmotte had bought Mr. Longestaffe's estate at Pickering on terms very favourable to the Longestaffes.


It had been suggested to Mr. Longestaffe by Mr. Melmotte that he had better qualify for his seat at the Board by taking shares in the Company to the amount of--perhaps two or three thousand pounds, and Mr. Longestaffe had of course consented.

Mr. Melmotte suggested to Mr. Longestaffe that he had better qualify for his seat at the Board by taking shares in the Company to the amount of two or three thousand pounds, and Mr. Longestaffe had of course consented.


There would be no need of any transaction in absolute cash.


The shares could of course be paid for out of Mr. Longestaffe's half of the purchase money for Pickering Park, and could remain for the present in Mr. Melmotte's hands.

The shares could be paid for out of Mr. Longestaffe's half of the purchase money for Pickering Park, and could remain for the present in Mr. Melmotte's hands.


To this also Mr. Longestaffe had consented, not quite understanding why the scrip should not be made over to him at once.


It was a part of the charm of all dealings with this great man that no ready money seemed ever to be necessary for anything.


Great purchases were made and great transactions apparently completed without the signing even of a cheque.

Great transactions were apparently completed without the signing even of a cheque.


Mr. Longestaffe found himself to be afraid even to give a hint to Mr. Melmotte about ready money.

Mr. Longestaffe was afraid even to give a hint to Mr. Melmotte about ready money.


In speaking of all such matters Melmotte seemed to imply that everything necessary had been done, when he had said that it was done.


Pickering had been purchased and the title-deeds made over to Mr. Melmotte; but the 80,000 had not been paid,--had not been absolutely paid, though of course Mr. Melmotte's note assenting to the terms was security sufficient for any reasonable man.

Pickering had been purchased and the title-deeds made over to Mr. Melmotte; but the 80,000 had not been paid, though of course Mr. Melmotte's note assenting to the terms was security sufficient for any reasonable man.


The property had been mortgaged, though not heavily, and Mr. Melmotte had no doubt satisfied the mortgagee; but there was still a sum of 50,000 to come, of which Dolly was to have one half and the other was to be employed in paying off Mr. Longestaffe's debts to tradesmen and debts to the bank.

The property had been mortgaged, but there was still a sum of 50,000 to come, of which Dolly was to have one half and the other was to be used in paying off Mr. Longestaffe's debts.


It would have been very pleasant to have had this at once,--but Mr. Longestaffe felt the absurdity of pressing such a man as Mr. Melmotte, and was partly conscious of the gradual consummation of a new ra in money matters.

It would have been very pleasant to have had this at once - but Mr. Longestaffe felt the absurdity of pressing such a man as Mr. Melmotte.


"If your banker is pressing you, refer him to me," Mr. Melmotte had said.


As for many years past we have exchanged paper instead of actual money for our commodities, so now it seemed that, under the new Melmotte rgime, an exchange of words was to suffice.


Dolly, idle as he was, foolish as he was, dissipated as he was and generally indifferent to his debts, liked to have what belonged to him.

Dolly, idle and foolish as he was, liked to have what belonged to him.


5,000 would pay off all his tradesmen's debts and leave him comfortably possessed of money in hand, while the other 20,000 would make his own property free.


There was a charm in this which awakened even Dolly, and for the time almost reconciled him to his father's society.


But now a shade of impatience was coming over him.


He had actually gone down to Caversham to arrange the terms with his father,--and had in fact made his own terms.

He had actually gone down to Caversham to arrange the terms with his father, and


His father had been unable to move him, and had consequently suffered much in spirit.


Dolly had been almost triumphant,--thinking that the money would come on the next day, or at any rate during the next week.

had been almost triumphant, thinking that the money would come the next day, or at any rate during the next week.


Now he came to his father early in the morning,--at about two o'clock,--to enquire what was being done.

Now Dolly came to his father to enquire what was being done.


He had not as yet been made blessed with a single ten-pound note in his hand, as the result of the sale.

He had not as yet been blessed with a single ten-pound note as the result of the sale.


"Yes;--I'm to be with him to-morrow, and he is to introduce me to the Board."

"Yes, tomorrow; and he is to introduce me to the Board."


"You're going in for that, are you, sir?


"Nidderdale and young Carbury belong to it.


We had them all there for dinner one day, and a jolly dinner we gave them.


Miles Grendall and old Alfred belong to it.


I don't think they'd go in for it, if there was no money going.


I'd make them fork out something if I took the trouble of going all that way."


"I think that perhaps, Adolphus, you hardly understand these things."


"No, I don't understand much about business, I know.


What I want to understand is, when Melmotte is going to pay up this money."


"I suppose he'll arrange it with the banks," said the father.


"I beg that he won't arrange my money with the banks, sir.


A cheque upon his bank which I can pay in to mine is about the best thing going.

I want a cheque upon his bank which I can pay in to mine.


You'll be in the city to-morrow, and you'd better tell him.


If you don't like, you know, I'll get Squercum to do it."


Mr. Squercum was a lawyer whom Dolly had employed of late years much to the annoyance of his parent.

Mr. Squercum was a lawyer whom Dolly had employed lately, much to the annoyance of his parent.


Mr. Squercum's name was odious to Mr. Longestaffe.


It will be very foolish if you do;--perhaps ruinous."


"Then he'd better pay up, like anybody else," said Dolly as he left the room.


The father knew the son, and was quite sure that Squercum would have his finger in the pie unless the money were paid quickly.

His father was quite sure that Squercum would have his finger in the pie unless the money were paid quickly.


When Dolly had taken an idea into his head, no power on earth,--no power at least of which the father could avail himself,--would turn him.

When Dolly had taken an idea into his head, no power on earth would turn him.


On that same day Melmotte received two visits in the city from two of his fellow directors.

On that same day Melmotte received visits from two of his fellow directors.


Though his electioneering speeches were neither long nor pithy, still he had to think of them beforehand.


Members of his Committee were always trying to see him.


Orders as to the dinner and the preparation of the house could not be given by Lord Alfred without some reference to him.

Orders as to the dinner and the preparation of the house had to be given.


And then those gigantic commercial affairs which were enumerated in the last chapter could not be adjusted without much labour on his part.

And then his gigantic commercial affairs required much labour on his part.


His hands were not empty, but still he saw each of these young men,--for a few minutes.

Still he saw each of these young men for a few minutes.


"My dear young friend, what can I do for you?"


he said to Sir Felix, not sitting down, so that Sir Felix also should remain standing.


You see that a good many money matters pass through my hands."

A good many money matters pass through my hands."


"The thousand pounds I gave you for shares.


If you don't mind, and as the shares seem to be a bother, I'll take the money back."

If you don't mind, as the shares seem to be a bother, I'll take the money back."


"It was only the other day you had 200," said Melmotte, showing that he could apply his memory to small transactions when he pleased.

"It was only the other day you had 200," said Melmotte.


"Exactly;--and you might as well let me have the 800."

"Exactly; and you might as well let me have the 800."


"I've ordered the shares;--gave the order to my broker the other day."

"I've ordered the shares; gave the order to my broker the other day."


"Then I'd better take the shares," said Sir Felix, feeling that it might very probably be that day fortnight before he could start for New York.

"Then I'd better take the shares," said Sir Felix.


"My dear fellow, I really think you hardly calculate the value of my time when you come to me about such an affair as this."