Papa is very cross to her sometimes;--more so than to me.

Papa is very cross to her sometimes; more so than to me.


I will try to tell him, though I can't always get at him.


I very often hardly see him all day long.


But I don't mean to be afraid of him, and will tell him that on my word and honour I will never marry any one except you.

But I don't mean to be afraid, and I will tell him that on my word and honour I will never marry anyone except you.


I don't think he will beat me, but if he does, I'll bear it,--for your sake.

I don't think he will beat me, but if he does, I'll bear it, for your sake.


You can write to me quite safely through Didon.


I think if you would call some day and give her something, it would help, as she is very fond of money.

I think if you would give her something, it would help, as she is very fond of money.


I love you better than anything in the world, and I will never,--never give you up.

I love you better than anything in the world, and I will never, never give you up.


I suppose you can come and call,--unless papa tells the man in the hall not to let you in.

I suppose you can come and call, unless papa tells the servants not to let you in.


I'll find that out from Didon, but I can't do it before sending this letter.


Papa dined out yesterday somewhere with that Lord Alfred, so I haven't seen him since you were here.


I never see him before he goes into the city in the morning.


Now I am going down-stairs to breakfast with mamma and that Miss Longestaffe.

Now I am going downstairs to breakfast with mamma and that Miss Longestaffe.


And I am your own, own affectionate ladylove,


Sir Felix when he read this letter at his club in the afternoon of the Monday, turned up his nose and shook his head.

Sir Felix when he read this turned up his nose and shook his head.


He thought if there were much of that kind of thing to be done, he could not go on with it, even though the marriage were certain, and the money secure.

He thought if there were much more of that kind of thing, he could not go on with it, despite the money.


he said to himself as he crumpled the letter up.


Marie having intrusted her letter to Didon, together with a little present of gloves and shoes, went down to breakfast.

Marie, having entrusted her letter to Didon, together with a little present of gloves and shoes, went down to breakfast.


Her mother was the first there, and Miss Longestaffe soon followed.

Her mother was there, and Miss Longestaffe soon followed


That lady, when she found that she was not expected to breakfast with the master of the house, abandoned the idea of having her meal sent to her in her own room.


With Madame Melmotte she had to go out in the carriage every day.

She had to go out in the carriage with her every day


Indeed she could only go to those parties to which Madame Melmotte accompanied her.

, and could only go to parties if Madame Melmotte accompanied her.


If the London season was to be of any use at all, she must accustom herself to the companionship of Madame Melmotte.


The man kept himself very much apart from her.


She met him only at dinner, and that not often.

She met Mr. Melmotte only infrequently, at dinner.


Madame Melmotte was very bad; but she was silent, and seemed to understand that her guest was only her guest as a matter of business.


But Miss Longestaffe already perceived that her old acquaintances were changed in their manner to her.


She had written to her dear friend Lady Monogram, whom she had known intimately as Miss Triplex, and whose marriage with Sir Damask Monogram had been splendid preferment, telling how she had been kept down in Suffolk at the time of her friend's last party, and how she had been driven to consent to return to London as the guest of Madame Melmotte.

She had written to her dear friend Lady Monogram, whom she had known intimately as Miss Triplex, telling her she had been forced to consent to return to London as Madame Melmotte's guest.


She hoped her friend would not throw her off on that account.


She had been very affectionate, with a poor attempt at fun, and rather humble.


Georgiana Longestaffe had never been humble before; but the Monograms were people so much thought of and in such an excellent set!

Georgiana Longestaffe had never been humble before; but the Monograms were in such an excellent set!


She would do anything rather than lose the Monograms.


She had been humble in vain, for Lady Monogram had not even answered her note.


"She never really cared for anybody but herself," Georgiana said in her wretched solitude.

"She never really cared for anybody but herself," Georgiana said wretchedly.


Then, too, she had found that Lord Nidderdale's manner to her had been quite changed.

Then, too, Lord Nidderdale's manner to her had changed.


She was not a fool, and could read these signs with sufficient accuracy.

She was not a fool, and could read these signs.


There had been little flirtations between her and Nidderdale,--meaning nothing, as every one knew that Nidderdale must marry money; but in none of them had he spoken to her as he spoke when he met her in Madame Melmotte's drawing-room.


She could see it in the faces of people as they greeted her in the park,--especially in the faces of the men.

She could see it in the faces of people - especially the men - as they greeted her in the park.


She had always carried herself with a certain high demeanour, and had been able to maintain it.


All that was now gone from her, and she knew it.


Though the thing was as yet but a few days old she understood that others understood that she had degraded herself.

She already understood that others understood that she had degraded herself.


Lord Grasslough had said to her, seeing her come into a room behind Madame Melmotte.


She had simpered, had tried to laugh, and had then turned away her face.

She had tried to laugh, and had then turned away her face.


she said to herself, knowing that a fortnight ago he would not have dared to address her in such a tone.


A day or two afterwards an occurrence took place worthy of commemoration.

A day or two afterwards a memorable event occurred.


His mind must have been much stirred when he allowed himself to be moved to such uncommon action.

His mind must have been much stirred to move him to such uncommon action.


He came too at a very early hour, not much after noon, when it was his custom to be eating his breakfast in bed.

He came at a very early hour, not much after noon,


He declared at once to the servant that he did not wish to see Madame Melmotte or any of the family.

and declared to the servant that he did not wish to see any of the family


He was therefore shown into a separate room where Georgiana joined him.

He was shown into a room where Georgiana joined him.


She tried to laugh as she tossed her head.


This is quite an unexpected compliment."


I can go anywhere without doing much harm.


"You needn't have come, I suppose, unless you liked it.


Is it because they are none of them coming up?"

Is it because they aren't coming up to London?"


What a wonderful young man you are for guessing!"


"No;--everybody does not come and stay here as you are doing.


Everybody doesn't make themselves a part of the family.


I have heard of nobody doing it except you.


I thought you used to think so much of yourself."


"I think as much of myself as ever I did," said Georgiana, hardly able to restrain her tears.


"I can tell you nobody else will think much of you if you remain here.


I could hardly believe it when Nidderdale told me."


"He didn't say much to me, but I could see what he thought.

"He didn't say much, but I could see what he thought.


And of course everybody thinks the same.


How you can like the people yourself is what I can't understand!"

I don't understand how you can like these people!"


"Then why do you come and live with them?"


"Oh, Dolly, it is impossible to make you understand.


You can go just where you please, and do what you like.


And if you're short of money, people will give you credit.


And you can live by yourself, and all that sort of thing.


How should you like to be shut up down at Caversham all the season?"


"I shouldn't mind it,--only for the governor."


"I mean altogether," said the poor girl, unable to be quite as explicit with her brother, as she had been with her father, and mother, and sister.

"I mean altogether," said the poor girl.


"I don't see how the Melmottes are to help you.


The long and the short of it is, you oughtn't to be here.


It's not often I interfere, but when I heard it I thought I'd come and tell you.


I shall write to the governor, and tell him too.

I shall write to the governor, and tell him.


I am not going to see everything going to the devil without saying a word.


As soon as he had left he hurried down to some club that was open,--not the Beargarden, as it was long before the Beargarden hours,--and actually did write a letter to his father.

As soon as he had left he hurried down to some club, and actually did write to his father.


I have seen Georgiana at Mr. Melmotte's house.


I suppose you don't know it, but everybody says he's a swindler.


For the sake of the family I hope you will get her home again.


It seems to me that Bruton Street is the proper place for the girls at this time of the year.

I think Bruton Street is the proper place for the girls at this time of the year.


This letter fell upon old Mr. Longestaffe at Caversham like a thunderbolt.


It was marvellous to him that his son should have been instigated to write a letter.

It was extraordinary to him that his son should have written a letter.


The Melmottes must be very bad indeed,--worse than he had thought,--or their iniquities would not have brought about such energy as this.

The Melmottes must be very bad indeed for him to expend such energies.


But the passage which angered him most was that which told him that he ought to have taken his family back to town.

But he was angry at being told that he ought to have taken his family back to town.


This had come from his son, who had refused to do anything to help him in his difficulties.

This came from his son, who had refused to help him in his difficulties!


Dolly Longestaffe had found himself compelled to go to Fetter Lane immediately after that meeting in Bruton Street at which he had consented to wait two days longer for the payment of his money.


This was on a Wednesday, the day appointed for the payment being Friday.

was promised his money on a Wednesday; the payment to be made on Friday.


He had undertaken that, on his part, Squercum should be made to desist from further immediate proceedings, and he could only carry out his word by visiting Squercum.

He had agreed that Squercum should be made to desist from further proceedings.


The trouble to him was very great, but he began to feel that he almost liked it.

The bother of visiting Squercum was very great, but he began to feel that he almost liked it.


The excitement was nearly as good as that of loo.


Of course it was a "horrid bore,"--this having to go about in cabs under the sweltering sun of a London July day.


Of course it was a "horrid bore,"--this doubt about his money.

Of course it was a "horrid bore," this doubt about his money.


And it went altogether against the grain with him that he should be engaged in any matter respecting the family property in agreement with his father and Mr. Bideawhile.


But there was an importance in it that sustained him amidst his troubles.


It is said that if you were to take a man of moderate parts and make him Prime Minister out of hand, he might probably do as well as other Prime Ministers, the greatness of the work elevating the man to its own level.


In that way Dolly was elevated to the level of a man of business, and felt and enjoyed his own capacity.

Dolly was elevated to the level of a man of business, and enjoyed his own capacity.


It depended chiefly upon him whether such a man as Melmotte should or should not be charged before the Lord Mayor.

Why, it depended chiefly upon him whether Melmotte should or should not be charged before the Lord Mayor.


"Perhaps I oughtn't to have promised," he said to Squercum, sitting in the lawyer's office on a high-legged stool with a cigar in his mouth.

"Perhaps I oughtn't to have promised," he said to Squercum, sitting in the lawyer's office with a cigar in his mouth.


He preferred Squercum to any other lawyer he had met because Squercum's room was untidy and homely, because there was nothing awful about it, and because he could sit in what position he pleased, and smoke all the time.

He preferred Squercum to any other lawyer he had met because Squercum's room was untidy, and he could sit where he pleased, and smoke all the time.


"Well; I don't think you ought, if you ask me," said Squercum.


"You weren't there to be asked, old fellow."


"Bideawhile shouldn't have asked you to agree to anything in my absence," said Squercum indignantly.


"It was a very unprofessional thing on his part, and so I shall take an opportunity of telling him."

"It was very unprofessional on his part."


I wanted you to see what they were at in that room; but I told you to look on and say nothing."

"I wanted you to see what they were at in that room.


Your father then is quite clear that you did not sign the letter?"


"Oh, yes;--the governor is pig-headed, you know, but he's honest."

"Oh, yes; the governor is pig-headed, you know, but he's honest."


"That's a matter of course," said the lawyer.


"All men are honest; but they are generally specially honest to their own side.

"All men are honest," said the lawyer, "but they are generally specially honest to their own side.


Bideawhile's honest; but you've got to fight him deuced close to prevent his getting the better of you.


Melmotte has promised to pay the money on Friday, has he?"


"He's to bring it with him to Bruton Street."


"I don't believe a word of it;--and I'm sure Bideawhile doesn't.


He'll give you a cheque dated on Monday, and that'll give him two days more, and then on Monday there'll be a note to say the money can't be lodged till Wednesday.

He'll give you a cheque dated for Monday, and that'll give him two days more, and then on Monday there'll be a note to say the money can't be lodged till Wednesday.


There should be no compromising with such a man.


You only get from one mess into another.


I told you neither to do anything or to say anything."


If you're there, there won't be any more compromising."


Squercum made one or two further remarks to his client, not at all flattering to Dolly's vanity,--which might have caused offence had not there been such perfectly good feeling between the attorney and the young man.

Squercum made one or two further unflattering remarks which might have caused offence had there not been such perfectly good feeling between the attorney and the young man.


As it was Dolly replied to everything that was said with increased flattery.


"If I was a sharp fellow like you, you know," said Dolly, "of course I should get along better; but I ain't, you know."


It was then settled that they should meet each other, and also meet Mr. Longestaffe senior, Bideawhile, and Melmotte, at twelve o'clock on Friday morning in Bruton Street.

It was settled that they should meet each other, and Mr. Longestaffe senior, Bideawhile, and Melmotte, at twelve o'clock on Friday in Bruton Street.


He had busied himself in this matter, and had ferreted things out, till he had pretty nearly got to the bottom of that affair about the houses in the East, and had managed to induce the heirs of the old man who had died to employ him.

He had ferreted things out, till he had pretty nearly got to the bottom of that affair about the houses in the East End, and he had managed to induce the heirs of the old man who had died to employ him.


As to the Pickering property he had not a doubt on the subject.

As to Pickering, he had not a doubt about it.


Old Longestaffe had been induced by promises of wonderful aid and by the bribe of a seat at the Board of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway to give up the title-deeds of the property,--as far as it was in his power to give them up; and had endeavoured to induce Dolly to do so also.

Old Longestaffe had been bribed with a seat at the Railway Board to give up the title-deeds; and


As he had failed, Melmotte had supplemented his work by ingenuity, with which the reader is acquainted.

when he had failed to induce Dolly to do the same, Melmotte had used his ingenuity.


All this was perfectly clear to Squercum, who thought that he saw before him a most attractive course of proceeding against the Great Financier.

All this was perfectly clear to Squercum.


It was pure ambition rather than any hope of lucre that urged him on.


He regarded Melmotte as a grand swindler,--perhaps the grandest that the world had ever known,--and he could conceive no greater honour than the detection, successful prosecution, and ultimate destroying of so great a man.

He regarded Melmotte as a grand swindler - perhaps the grandest that the world had ever known; and he could conceive no greater honour than the detection, successful prosecution, and ultimate destroying of so great a man.


To have hunted down Melmotte would make Squercum as great almost as Melmotte himself.


But he felt himself to have been unfairly hampered by his own client.


He did not believe that the money would be paid; but delay might rob him of his Melmotte.


He had heard a good many things in the City, and believed it to be quite out of the question that Melmotte should raise the money,--but there were various ways in which a man might escape.

He considered it to be out of the question that Melmotte should raise the money - but there were various ways in which a man might escape.


It may be remembered that Croll, the German clerk, preceded Melmotte into the City on Wednesday after Marie's refusal to sign the deeds.


He, too, had his eyes open, and had perceived that things were not looking as well as they used to look.


Croll had for many years been true to his patron, having been, upon the whole, very well paid for such truth.

Croll had for many years been true to his patron, having been well paid for such truth.


There had been times when things had gone badly with him, but he had believed in Melmotte, and, when Melmotte rose, had been rewarded for his faith.

When things had gone badly, he had believed in Melmotte, and had been rewarded for his faith.


Mr. Croll at the present time had little investments of his own, not made under his employer's auspices, which would leave him not absolutely without bread for his family should the Melmotte affairs at any time take an awkward turn.

Mr. Croll had little investments of his own, which would leave him some money should the Melmotte affairs take an awkward turn.


Melmotte had never required from him service that was actually fraudulent,--had at any rate never required it by spoken words.

Melmotte had never required him to do anything that was actually fraudulent,


Mr. Croll had not been over-scrupulous, and had occasionally been very useful to Mr. Melmotte.

although Mr. Croll had not been over-scrupulous.


But there must be a limit to all things; and why should any man sacrifice himself beneath the ruins of a falling house,--when convinced that nothing he can do can prevent the fall?

But there must be a limit to all things; and why should any man sacrifice himself beneath the ruins of a falling house?


Mr. Croll would have been of course happy to witness Miss Melmotte's signature; but as for that other kind of witnessing,--this clearly to his thinking was not the time for such good-nature on his part.

Mr. Croll would have been happy to witness Miss Melmotte's signature; but as for that other kind of witnessing, he was unwilling.


said one of the junior clerks to Mr. Croll when he entered the office in Abchurch Lane.


"A good deal will be up soon," said the German.


"He hasn't been civil enough to leave his address.


I fancy he don't want his friends to have to trouble themselves by writing to him.


Nobody seems to know what's become of him."


They're too hospitable in New York for Mr. Cohenlupe just at present.


He's on the continent somewhere,--half across France by this time; but nobody knows what route he has taken.

He's on the continent somewhere, half across France by this time; but nobody knows what route he has taken.


That'll be a poke in the ribs for the old boy;--eh, Croll?"

That'll be a poke in the ribs for the old boy; eh, Croll?"


"I wonder what has become of Miles Grendall," continued the clerk.


"Ven de rats is going avay it is bad for de house."


"There seems to have been a regular manufactory of Mexican Railway scrip."


"Our governor knew noding about dat," said Croll.


If they could have been kept up another fortnight they say Cohenlupe would have been worth nearly a million of money, and the governor would have been as good as the bank.

"If they could have been kept up another fortnight they say Cohenlupe would have been worth nearly a million, and the governor would have been as good as the bank.


Is it true they are going to have him before the Lord Mayor about the Pickering title-deeds?"

Is it true they are going to have him before the Lord Mayor?"


Croll declared that he knew nothing about the matter, and settled himself down to his work.

Croll declared that he knew nothing about it, and settled down to his work.


In little more than two hours he was followed by Melmotte, who thus reached the City late in the afternoon.

In two hours he was followed by Melmotte, who


It was he knew too late to raise the money on that day, but he hoped that he might pave the way for getting it on the next day, which would be Thursday.

knew it was too late that day to raise the money, but hoped to pave the way for getting it the next day, the Thursday.


Of course the first news which he heard was of the defection of Mr. Cohenlupe.

Of course the first news he heard was of the defection of Mr. Cohenlupe.


He turned back, and his jaw fell, but at first he said nothing.


He had a vast amount of my property in his hands.


"It never rains but it pours," said Melmotte.


I've been worse than I am now, Croll, as you know, and have had a hundred thousand pounds at my banker's,--loose cash,--before the month was out."

I've been worse than I am now, Croll, as you know, and have had a hundred thousand pounds before the month was out."


"But the worst of it is that every one around me is so damnably jealous.

"But the worst of it is that everyone around me is so damnably jealous.


It isn't what I've lost that will crush me, but what men will say that I've lost.


Ever since I began to stand for Westminster there has been a dead set against me in the City.

Ever since I stood for Westminster there has been a dead set against me in the City.


The whole of that affair of the dinner was planned,--planned by G----, that it might ruin me.

That affair of the dinner was planned so that it might ruin me.


It was all laid out just as you would lay the foundation of a building.


It is hard for one man to stand against all that when he has dealings so large as mine."


There's too much of the real stuff, Croll, for them to crush me.


Property's a kind of thing that comes out right at last.


It's cut and come again, you know, if the stuff is really there.


I suppose I shall find Brehgert in Cuthbert's Court."


Mr. Brehgert never leaves much before six."


Then Mr. Melmotte took his hat and gloves, and the stick that he usually carried, and went out with his face carefully dressed in its usually jaunty air.

Then Mr. Melmotte took his hat and gloves and stick, and went out with his face carefully dressed in its usually jaunty air.


But Croll as he went heard him mutter the name of Cohenlupe between his teeth.

But Croll heard him mutter the name of Cohenlupe between his teeth.


The part which he had to act is one very difficult to any actor.


The carrying an external look of indifference when the heart is sinking within,--or has sunk almost to the very ground,--is more than difficult; it is an agonizing task.

To look indifferent when the heart is sinking - or has sunk to the very ground - is an agonizing task.


In all mental suffering the sufferer longs for solitude,--for permission to cast himself loose along the ground, so that every limb and every feature of his person may faint in sympathy with his heart.


A grandly urbane deportment over a crushed spirit and ruined hopes is beyond the physical strength of most men;--but there have been men so strong.

A grandly urbane appearance over ruined hopes is beyond the strength of most men.


It was only to the eyes of such a one as Herr Croll that the failure was perceptible.


At this time Mr. Brehgert had completed his correspondence with Miss Longestaffe, in which he had mentioned the probability of great losses from the anticipated commercial failure in Mr. Melmotte's affairs.

, who at this time had completed his correspondence with Miss Longestaffe, in which he had mentioned the probability of great losses.


He had now heard that Mr. Cohenlupe had gone upon his travels, and was therefore nearly sure that his anticipation would be correct.

He had now heard that Mr. Cohenlupe had gone upon his travels, and was therefore sure that his anticipation would be correct.


Nevertheless, he received his old friend with a smile.


When large sums of money are concerned there is seldom much of personal indignation between man and man.

When large sums of money are concerned there is seldom personal indignation between man and man.


The loss of fifty pounds or of a few hundreds may create personal wrath;--but fifty thousand require equanimity.

The loss of fifty pounds may create personal wrath; but fifty thousand require equanimity.


"So Cohenlupe hasn't been seen in the City to-day," said Brehgert.

"So Cohenlupe hasn't been seen in the City today," said Brehgert.


"I think I once told you that Cohenlupe was not the man for large dealings."


Then Melmotte explained to Mr. Brehgert what it was that he wanted then, taking the various documents out of the bag which throughout the afternoon he had carried in his hand.

Then Melmotte explained to Mr. Brehgert what he wanted, taking the various documents out of his bag.


Mr. Brehgert understood enough of his friend's affairs, and enough of affairs in general, to understand readily all that was required.

Mr. Brehgert understood readily all that was required.


He examined the documents, declaring as he did so that he did not know how the thing could be arranged by Friday.

He examined the documents, declaring that he did not know how the thing could be arranged by Friday.


Melmotte replied that 50,000 was not a very large sum of money, that the security offered was worth twice as much as that.

Melmotte replied that 50,000 was not a very large sum, and the security offered was worth twice that.


"You will leave them with me this evening," said Brehgert.


Melmotte paused for a moment, and said that he would of course do so.


He would have given much, very much, to have been sufficiently master of himself to have assented without hesitation;--but then the weight within was so very heavy!

He would have given much to have been sufficiently master of himself to have assented without hesitation; but the weight within him was so very heavy!


Having left the papers and the bag with Mr. Brehgert, he walked westwards to the House of Commons.


He was accustomed to remain in the City later than this, often not leaving it till seven,--though during the last week or ten days he had occasionally gone down to the House in the afternoon.

During the last week he had occasionally gone down to the House in the afternoon.


It was now Wednesday, and there was no evening sitting;--but his mind was too full of other things to allow him to remember this.

Today there was no evening sitting; but his mind was too full of other things to allow him to remember this.


As he walked along the Embankment, his thoughts were very heavy.


How would things go with him?--What would be the end of it?


Ruin;--yes, but there were worse things than ruin.

Ruin; yes, but there were worse things than ruin.


And a short time since he had been so fortunate;--had made himself so safe!

And a short time ago, he had made himself so safe!


As he looked back at it, he could hardly say how it had come to pass that he had been driven out of the track that he had laid down for himself.

As he looked back at it, he could hardly say how he had been driven out of the track that he had laid down for himself.


He had known that ruin would come, and had made himself so comfortably safe, so brilliantly safe, in spite of ruin.


But insane ambition had driven him away from his anchorage.

Insane ambition had tempted him away from his anchorage.


He told himself over and over again that the fault had been not in circumstances,--not in that which men call Fortune,--but in his own incapacity to bear his position.

He blamed himself, not his circumstances.


If he could only begin again, how different would his conduct be!


But of what avail were such regrets as these?

But of what use were such regrets as these?


He must take things as they were now, and see that, in dealing with them, he allowed himself to be carried away neither by pride nor cowardice.

He must take things as they were now, and not allow himself to be carried away by pride or cowardice.


And if the worst should come to the worst, then let him face it like a man!


There was a certain manliness about him which showed itself perhaps as strongly in his own self-condemnation as in any other part of his conduct at this time.

There was a certain manliness about him which showed itself in his self-condemnation.


Judging of himself, as though he were standing outside himself and looking on to another man's work, he pointed out to himself his own shortcomings.

Judging himself, he pointed out to himself his own shortcomings.


If it were all to be done again he thought that he could avoid this bump against the rocks on one side, and that terribly shattering blow on the other.


There was much that he was ashamed of,--many a little act which recurred to him vividly in this solitary hour as a thing to be repented of with inner sackcloth and ashes.

There was much that he was ashamed of; many a little act which recurred to him vividly in this solitary hour as a thing to be repented of.


But never once, not for a moment, did it occur to him that he should repent of the fraud in which his whole life had been passed.

Yet never for a moment did it occur to him to repent of the fraud in which his whole life had been passed.


No idea ever crossed his mind of what might have been the result had he lived the life of an honest man.


Though he was inquiring into himself as closely as he could, he never even told himself that he had been dishonest.


Fraud and dishonesty had been the very principle of his life, and had so become a part of his blood and bones that even in this extremity of his misery he made no question within himself as to his right judgment in regard to them.

Fraud and dishonesty had been the very principle of his life, and had so become a part of his blood and bones that even in this extremity of misery he did not question them.


Not to cheat, not to be a scoundrel, not to live more luxuriously than others by cheating more brilliantly, was a condition of things to which his mind had never turned itself.

Not to cheat, not to be a scoundrel, was a condition of things to which his mind had never turned itself.


In that respect he accused himself of no want of judgment.


But why had he, so unrighteous himself, not made friends to himself of the Mammon of unrighteousness?


Why had he trod upon all the corns of all his neighbours?


Why had he been insolent at the India Office?


Why had he trusted any man as he had trusted Cohenlupe?


Why had he not stuck to Abchurch Lane instead of going into Parliament?


Why had he called down unnecessary notice on his head by entertaining the Emperor of China?


It was too late now, and he must bear it; but these were the things that had ruined him.


He walked into Palace Yard and across it, to the door of Westminster Abbey, before he found out that Parliament was not sitting.


Of course it is," he said, turning round and directing his steps towards Grosvenor Square.


Then he remembered that in the morning he had declared his purpose of dining at home, and now he did not know what better use to make of the present evening.

Now he did not know what use to make of the evening.


His house could hardly be very comfortable to him.


Marie no doubt would keep out of his way, and he did not habitually receive much pleasure from his wife's company.


But in his own house he could at least be alone.


Then, as he walked slowly across the park, thinking so intently on matters as hardly to observe whether he himself were observed or no, he asked himself whether it still might not be best for him to keep the money which was settled on his daughter, to tell the Longestaffes that he could make no payment, and to face the worst that Mr. Squercum could do to him,--for he knew already how busy Mr. Squercum was in the matter.

Then, as he walked slowly across the park, thinking intently, he asked himself whether it still might not be best for him to keep the money which was settled on his daughter, to tell the Longestaffes that he could make no payment, and to face the worst that Mr. Squercum could do.


Though they should put him on his trial for forgery, what of that?

Though they should put him on trial for forgery, what of that?


He had heard of trials in which the accused criminals had been heroes to the multitude while their cases were in progress,--who had been fted from the beginning to the end though no one had doubted their guilt,--and who had come out unscathed at the last.

He had heard of trials in which the accused criminals had been heroes - had been fted though no one had doubted their guilt - and had come out unscathed at last.


It might be that the Longestaffes and Bideawhiles and Squercums should know that he was a forger, but their knowledge would not produce a verdict.


He, as member for Westminster, as the man who had entertained the Emperor, as the owner of one of the most gorgeous houses in London, as the great Melmotte, could certainly command the best half of the bar.

He, the great Melmotte, could certainly command a better lawyer.


He already felt what popular support might do for him.


Surely there need be no despondency while so good a hope remained to him!


He did tremble as he remembered Dolly Longestaffe's letter, and the letter of the old man who was dead.


And he knew that it was possible that other things might be adduced; but would it not be better to face it all than surrender his money and become a pauper, seeing, as he did very clearly, that even by such surrender he could not cleanse his character?

But would it not be better to face it all than to surrender his money and become a pauper?


But he had given those forged documents into the hands of Mr. Brehgert!


Again he had acted in a hurry,--without giving sufficient thought to the matter in hand.

Again he had acted in a hurry, without sufficient thought.


He was angry with himself for that also.


But how is a man to give sufficient thought to his affairs when no step that he takes can be other than ruinous?

But how is a man to give sufficient thought to his affairs when every step is ruinous?


Yes;--he had certainly put into Brehgert's hands means of proving him to have been absolutely guilty of forgery.

Yes - he had certainly put into Brehgert's hands means of proving him to be absolutely guilty of forgery.


He did not think that Marie would disclaim the signatures, even though she had refused to sign the deeds, when she should understand that her father had written her name; nor did he think that his clerk would be urgent against him, as the forgery of Croll's name could not injure Croll.

He did not think that Marie would disclaim the signatures; nor did he think that his clerk Croll would be urgent against him.


But Brehgert, should he discover what had been done, would certainly not permit him to escape.


And now he had put these forgeries without any guard into Brehgert's hands.


He would tell Brehgert in the morning that he had changed his mind.


He would see Brehgert before any action could have been taken on the documents, and Brehgert would no doubt restore them to him.

He would see him before any action could have been taken on the documents, and Brehgert would restore them to him.


Then he would instruct his daughter to hold the money fast, to sign no paper that should be put before her, and to draw the income herself.

Then he would instruct his daughter to hold the money fast, to sign no paper, and to draw the income herself.


Having done that, he would let his foes do their worst.


He had an idea that he could not be admitted to bail if accused of forgery.


If convicted he would bear the punishment, still hoping that an end might come.


But how great was the chance that they might fail to convict him!


As to the dead man's letter, and as to Dolly Longestaffe's letter, he did not think that any sufficient evidence could be found.


The evidence as to the deeds by which Marie was to have released the property was indeed conclusive; but he believed that he might still recover those documents.


For the present it must be his duty to do nothing,--when he should have recovered and destroyed those documents,--and to live before the eyes of men as though he feared nothing.

For the present he must do nothing - once he had recovered and destroyed those documents - and would live as though he feared nothing.


He dined at home alone, in the study, and after dinner carefully went through various bundles of papers, preparing them for the eyes of those ministers of the law who would probably before long have the privilege of searching them.

He dined at home alone, in the study, and after dinner carefully went through various bundles of papers, preparing them for the eyes of those lawyers who would probably before long be searching them.


At dinner, and while he was thus employed, he drank a bottle of champagne,--feeling himself greatly comforted by the process.

While he was doing this, he drank a bottle of champagne, and felt greatly comforted by the process.


If he could only hold up his head and look men in the face, he thought that he might still live through it all.

If he could only hold up his head, he might still live through it all.


How much had he done by his own unassisted powers!


He had once been imprisoned for fraud at Hamburgh, and had come out of gaol a pauper; friendless, with all his wretched antecedents against him.

He had once been imprisoned for fraud at Hamburg, and had come out of jail a friendless pauper;


Now he was a member of the British House of Parliament, the undoubted owner of perhaps the most gorgeously furnished house in London, a man with an established character for high finance,--a commercial giant whose name was a familiar word on all the exchanges of the two hemispheres.

now he was a member of the British House of Parliament, the owner of perhaps the most gorgeously furnished house in London, and commercial giant.


Even though he should be condemned to penal servitude for life, he would not all die.


He rang the bell and desired that Madame Melmotte might be sent to him, and bade the servant bring him brandy.


In ten minutes his poor wife came crawling into the room.


Every one connected with Melmotte regarded the man with a certain amount of awe,--every one except Marie, to whom alone he had at times been himself almost gentle.


The servants all feared him, and his wife obeyed him implicitly when she could not keep away from him.


She came in now and stood opposite to him, while he spoke to her.


She never sat in his presence in that room.


He asked her where she and Marie kept their jewelry;--for during the last twelvemonths rich trinkets had been supplied to both of them.

He asked her where she and Marie kept their jewellery.


Of course she answered by another question.


"Is anything going to happen, Melmotte?"


Are they here in this house, or in Grosvenor Square?"

Are the jewels here in this house, or in Grosvenor Square?"


"Then have them all packed up,--as small as you can; never mind about wool and cases and all that.

"Then have them all packed up, as small as you can.


Have them close to your hand so that if you have to move you can take them with you.

Have them close to hand so that if you have to move you can take them with you.


You ought to know by this time that when a man's work is such as mine, things will happen.


Whatever there is to be borne, I suppose it is I must bear it.


I have not had it very soft all my life hitherto, and I don't think it's going to be very soft now."


You talk of moving as though that were the worst thing that could happen.


How would you like to be in some place where they wouldn't let you move?"


"Tell me, Melmotte;--are they going to?"


Then the poor woman did sit down, overcome by her feelings.

The poor woman sat down, overcome by her feelings.


"I didn't ask you to come here for a scene," said Melmotte.


"Do as I bid you about your own jewels, and Marie's.

"Do as I bid you about your jewels, and Marie's.


The thing is to have them in small compass, and that you should not have it to do at the last moment, when you will be flurried and incapable.

The thing is not to have it to do at the last moment, when you will be flurried.


Now you needn't stay any longer, and it's no good asking any questions because I shan't answer them."


So dismissed, the poor woman crept out again, and immediately, after her own slow fashion, went to work with her ornaments.

So dismissed, the poor woman crept out again, and went to work with her ornaments.


Melmotte sat up during the greater part of the night, sometimes sipping brandy and water, and sometimes smoking.

Melmotte sat up most of the night, sipping brandy and water, and sometimes smoking.


But he did no work, and hardly touched a paper after his wife left him.

But he hardly touched a paper after his wife left him.


Miss Ruby Ruggles, the granddaughter of old Daniel Ruggles, of Sheep's Acre, in the parish of Sheepstone, close to Bungay, received the following letter from the hands of the rural post letter-carrier on that Sunday morning;--"A friend will be somewhere near Sheepstone Birches between four and five o'clock on Sunday afternoon."

Miss Ruby Ruggles, the granddaughter of old Daniel Ruggles, of Sheep's Acre, near Bungay, received the following letter from the rural postman that Sunday morning:
"A friend will be near Sheepstone Birches between four and five on Sunday afternoon."

Chapter 18: Ruby Ruggles Hears a Love Tale


There was not another word in the letter, but Miss Ruby Ruggles knew well from whom it came.

There was not another word in the letter, but Miss Ruby Ruggles knew from whom it came.


Daniel Ruggles was a farmer, who had the reputation of considerable wealth, but who was not very well looked on in the neighbourhood as being somewhat of a curmudgeon and a miser.

Daniel Ruggles was a farmer, who had the reputation of wealth, but also the reputation of being a curmudgeon and a miser.


His wife was dead;--he had quarrelled with his only son, whose wife was also dead, and had banished him from his home;--his daughters were married and away; and the only member of his family who lived with him was his granddaughter Ruby.

His wife was dead; he had quarrelled with his only son, and had banished him from his home; his daughters were married and had moved away; and the only member of his family who lived with him was his granddaughter Ruby.


And this granddaughter was a great trouble to the old man.


She was twenty-three years old, and had been engaged to a prosperous young man at Bungay in the meal and pollard line, to whom old Ruggles had promised to give 500 on their marriage.

was twenty-three, and had been engaged to a prosperous young man at Bungay in the corn-meal and bran line, to whom old Ruggles had promised to give 500 on their marriage.


But Ruby had taken it into her foolish young head that she did not like meal and pollard, and now she had received the above very dangerous letter.

But Ruby had taken it into her foolish young head that she did not like meal and bran, and now she had received the above very dangerous letter.


Though the writer had not dared to sign his name she knew well that it came from Sir Felix Carbury,--the most beautiful gentleman she had ever set her eyes upon.

She knew well that it came from Sir Felix Carbury - the most beautiful gentleman she had ever set her eyes upon.


Living down at Sheep's Acre, on the Waveney, she had heard both too much and too little of the great world beyond her ken.

Living down at Sheep's Acre, she had heard both too much and too little of the great world.


There were, she thought, many glorious things to be seen which she would never see were she in these her early years to become the wife of John Crumb, the dealer in meal and pollard at Bungay.

There were, she thought, many glorious things which she would never see if she were to become the wife of John Crumb, the meal and bran dealer.


Therefore she was full of a wild joy, half joy half fear, when she got her letter; and, therefore, punctually at four o'clock on that Sunday she was ensconced among the Sheepstone Birches, so that she might see without much danger of being seen.

Therefore she was full of a wild joy - half joy, half fear - when she got her letter. At four o'clock on that Sunday she was at Sheepstone Birches.


Poor Ruby Ruggles, who was left to be so much mistress of herself at the time of her life in which she most required the kindness of a controlling hand!


Mr. Ruggles held his land, or the greater part of it, on what is called a bishop's lease, Sheep's Acre Farm being a part of the property which did belong to the bishopric of Elmham, and which was still set apart for its sustentation;--but he also held a small extent of outlying meadow which belonged to the Carbury estate, so that he was one of the tenants of Roger Carbury.

Mr. Ruggles's land at Sheep's Acre Farm belonged to the bishopric of Elmham; but he also held an outlying meadow which belonged to the Carbury estate.


Those Sheepstone Birches, at which Felix made his appointment, belonged to Roger.


On a former occasion, when the feeling between the two cousins was kinder than that which now existed, Felix had ridden over with the landlord to call on the old man, and had then first seen Ruby;--and had heard from Roger something of Ruby's history up to that date.

Once Felix had ridden over with Roger to call on the old man, and had then first seen Ruby; and had heard from Roger


It had then been just made known that she was to marry John Crumb.


Since that time not a word had been spoken between the men respecting the girl.


Mr. Carbury had heard, with sorrow, that the marriage was either postponed or abandoned,--but his growing dislike to the baronet had made it very improbable that there should be any conversation between them on the subject.

Since then Roger had heard, with sorrow, that the marriage was either postponed or abandoned - but he had not spoken to Felix on the subject.


Sir Felix, however, had probably heard more of Ruby Ruggles than her grandfather's landlord.

Sir Felix, however, had probably heard more of Ruby Ruggles than he had.


There is, perhaps, no condition of mind more difficult for the ordinarily well-instructed inhabitant of a city to realise than that of such a girl as Ruby Ruggles.

There is, perhaps, no condition of mind more difficult for the educated city-dweller to imagine than that of such a girl as Ruby Ruggles.


The rural day labourer and his wife live on a level surface which is comparatively open to the eye.

The rural labourer and his wife live a life that seems open to the eye.


Their aspirations, whether for good or evil,--whether for food and drink to be honestly earned for themselves and children, or for drink first, to be come by either honestly or dishonestly,--are, if looked at at all, fairly visible.


And with the men of the Ruggles class one can generally find out what they would be at, and in what direction their minds are at work.

With the men of the Ruggles class one can generally find out what they want, and how their minds work.


But the Ruggles woman,--especially the Ruggles young woman,--is better educated, has higher aspirations and a brighter imagination, and is infinitely more cunning than the man.

But the Ruggles woman - especially the Ruggles young woman - has higher aspirations and a brighter imagination, and is infinitely more cunning than the man.


If she be good-looking and relieved from the pressure of want, her thoughts soar into a world which is as unknown to her as heaven is to us, and in regard to which her longings are apt to be infinitely stronger than are ours for heaven.


Her education has been much better than that of the man.


She can read, whereas he can only spell words from a book.

his: she can read, whereas he can only spell words from a book.


She can write a letter after her fashion, whereas he can barely spell words out on a paper.

She can write a letter after her fashion, whereas he can barely form words on paper.


Her tongue is more glib, and her intellect sharper.


But her ignorance as to the reality of things is much more gross than his.

But her ignorance about real life is much greater than his.


By such contact as he has with men in markets, in the streets of the towns he frequents, and even in the fields, he learns something unconsciously of the relative condition of his countrymen,--and, as to that which he does not learn, his imagination is obtuse.

He learns from the markets, the streets and the fields of the condition of his countrymen.


But the woman builds castles in the air, and wonders, and longs.

The woman builds castles in the air, and wonders, and longs.


To the young farmer the squire's daughter is a superior being very much out of his way.


To the farmer's daughter the young squire is an Apollo, whom to look at is a pleasure,--by whom to be looked at is a delight.

To the farmer's daughter the young squire is an Apollo, whom to look at is a pleasure - by whom to be looked at is a delight.


The danger for the most part is soon over.


The girl marries after her kind, and then husband and children put the matter at rest for ever.

: the girl marries one of her own kind, and the matter is at rest.


A mind more absolutely uninstructed than that of Ruby Ruggles as to the world beyond Suffolk and Norfolk it would be impossible to find.

A mind more absolutely ignorant than that of Ruby Ruggles about the world beyond Suffolk it would be impossible to find.


But her thoughts were as wide as they were vague, and as active as they were erroneous.

But her thoughts were as wide as they were vague, and as active as they were mistaken.


Why should she with all her prettiness, and all her cleverness,--with all her fortune to boot,--marry that dustiest of all men, John Crumb, before she had seen something of the beauties of the things of which she had read in the books which came in her way?

Why should she, with all her prettiness and cleverness, marry that dusty John Crumb, before she had seen any of the beauties of the world?


He was a sturdy, honest fellow, too,--slow of speech but sure of his points when he had got them within his grip,--fond of his beer but not often drunk, and the very soul of industry at his work.

He was a sturdy, honest fellow, slow of speech but sure of his points, fond of his beer but not often drunk, and the very soul of industry at his work.


But though she had known him all her life she had never known him otherwise than dusty.


The meal had so gotten within his hair, and skin, and raiment, that it never came out altogether even on Sundays.

The meal had got within his hair, and skin, and clothes, so


His normal complexion was a healthy pallor, through which indeed some records of hidden ruddiness would make themselves visible, but which was so judiciously assimilated to his hat and coat and waistcoat, that he was more like a stout ghost than a healthy young man.

that he looked more like a stout ghost than a healthy young man.


Nevertheless it was said of him that he could thrash any man in Bungay, and carry two hundred weight of flour upon his back.

Nevertheless it was said that he could thrash any man in Bungay, and carry two hundred weight of flour upon his back.


And Ruby also knew this of him,--that he worshipped the very ground on which she trod.

And Ruby also knew that he worshipped the very ground on which she trod.


But, alas, she thought there might be something better than such worship; and, therefore, when Felix Carbury came in her way, with his beautiful oval face, and his rich brown colour, and his bright hair and lovely moustache, she was lost in a feeling which she mistook for love; and when he sneaked over to her a second and a third time, she thought more of his listless praise than ever she had thought of John Crumb's honest promises.

But, alas, she thought there might be something better than such worship; and when Felix Carbury came in her way, with his beautiful face, she was lost in a feeling which she mistook for love; and when he sneaked over to her a second and a third time, she thought more of his listless praise than ever she had thought of John Crumb's honest promises.


But, though she was an utter fool, she was not a fool without a principle.


She was miserably ignorant; but she did understand that there was a degradation which it behoved her to avoid.

and miserably ignorant, she did understand that there was a degradation which she needed to avoid.


She thought, as the moths seem to think, that she might fly into the flame and not burn her wings.

She thought, as moths seem to think, that she might fly into the flame and not burn her wings.


After her fashion she was pretty, with long glossy ringlets, which those about the farm on week days would see confined in curl-papers, and large round dark eyes, and a clear dark complexion, in which the blood showed itself plainly beneath the soft brown skin.

She was pretty, with long glossy ringlets, large round dark eyes, and a clear complexion.


She was strong, and healthy, and tall,--and had a will of her own which gave infinite trouble to old Daniel Ruggles, her grandfather.

She was strong, healthy, and tall - and had a will of her own which gave infinite trouble to old Daniel Ruggles, her grandfather.


Felix Carbury took himself two miles out of his way in order that he might return by Sheepstone Birches, which was a little copse distant not above half a mile from Sheep's Acre farmhouse.

Felix Carbury took himself two miles out of his way in order that he might return by Sheepstone Birches.


A narrow angle of the little wood came up to the road, by which there was a gate leading into a grass meadow, which Sir Felix had remembered when he made his appointment.


The road was no more than a country lane, unfrequented at all times, and almost sure to be deserted on Sundays.

The road leading to it was a quiet country lane, almost sure to be deserted on Sundays.


He approached the gate in a walk, and then stood awhile looking into the wood.

He approached the gate, and stood awhile looking into the wood.


He had not stood long before he saw the girl's bonnet beneath a tree standing just outside the wood, in the meadow, but on the bank of the ditch.


Thinking for a moment what he would do about his horse, he rode him into the field, and then, dismounting, fastened him to a rail which ran down the side of the copse.

, he dismounted, fastened his horse to a rail, and


Then he sauntered on till he stood looking down upon Ruby Ruggles as she sat beneath the tree.


"I like your impudence," she said, "in calling yourself a friend."


When you was going away, you was to be back at Carbury in a fortnight; and that is,--oh, ever so long ago now."

You said you was to be back at Carbury in a fortnight; and that is ever so long ago now."


And the postman to know all as in 'em for anything anybody knows, and grandfather to be almost sure to see 'em.

And grandfather is almost sure to see 'em.


I don't call letters no good at all, and I beg you won't write 'em any more."


I don't know why you are come here, Sir Felix,--nor yet I don't know why I should come and meet you.

I don't know why you are come here, Sir Felix, - nor why I should come and meet you.


"Because I love you;--that's why I come; eh, Ruby?

"Because I love you; that's why I come, Ruby.


And you have come because you love me; eh, Ruby?


Then he threw himself on the ground beside her, and got his arm round her waist.


It would boot little to tell here all that they said to each other.

There is no need to tell here all that they said to each other.


The happiness of Ruby Ruggles for that half hour was no doubt complete.

The happiness of Ruby Ruggles for that half hour was complete.


She had her London lover beside her; and though in every word he spoke there was a tone of contempt, still he talked of love, and made her promises, and told her that she was pretty.

She had her London lover beside her; and though in every word he spoke there was a tone of contempt, still he talked of love, and made her promises, and told her she was pretty.


He probably did not enjoy it much; he cared very little about her, and carried on the liaison simply because it was the proper sort of thing for a young man to do.


He had begun to think that the odour of patchouli was unpleasant, and that the flies were troublesome, and the ground hard, before the half hour was over.


She felt that she could be content to sit there for ever and to listen to him.

She felt that she could sit there for ever and listen to him.


This was a realisation of those delights of life of which she had read in the thrice-thumbed old novels which she had gotten from the little circulating library at Bungay.


She had not dared to ask him to marry her,--had not dared to say those very words; and he had not dared to ask her to be his mistress.

She had not dared to ask him to marry her; and he had not dared to ask her to be his mistress.


There was an animal courage about her, and an amount of strength also, and a fire in her eye, of which he had learned to be aware.

There was an animal courage about her, and a strength, and a fire in her eye, of which he had learned to be wary.


Before the half hour was over I think that he wished himself away;--but when he did go, he made a promise to see her again on the Tuesday morning.

Before the half hour was over he wished himself away; but when he did go, he promised to see her again on the Tuesday morning.


Her grandfather would be at Harlestone market, and she would meet him at about noon at the bottom of the kitchen garden belonging to the farm.

Her grandfather would be at Harlestone market, and she would meet him at noon at the bottom of the farm's kitchen garden.


As he made the promise he resolved that he would not keep it.


He would write to her again, and bid her come to him in London, and would send her money for the journey.

He would write to her, and bid her come to him in London, and would send her money for the journey.


"I suppose I am to be his wedded wife," said Ruby to herself, as she crept away down from the road, away also from her own home;--so that on her return her presence should not be associated with that of the young man, should any one chance to see the young man on the road.

"I suppose I am to be his wedded wife," thought Ruby, as she crept away.


"I'll never be nothing unless I'm that," she said to herself.

"I'll never be nothing unless I'm that."


Then she allowed her mind to lose itself in expatiating on the difference between John Crumb and Sir Felix Carbury.

Then she allowed her mind to lose itself in thinking of the difference between John Crumb and Sir Felix Carbury.


Paul Montague reached London on his return from Suffolk early on the Monday morning, and on the following day he wrote to Mrs. Hurtle.

Paul Montague reached London from Suffolk early on the Monday morning, and the following day he wrote to Mrs. Hurtle.


As he sat in his lodgings, thinking of his condition, he almost wished that he had taken Melmotte's offer and gone to Mexico.

He almost wished that he had taken Melmotte's offer and gone to Mexico.


He might at any rate have endeavoured to promote the railway earnestly, and then have abandoned it if he found the whole thing false.


In such case of course he would never have seen Hetta Carbury again; but, as things were, of what use to him was his love,--of what use to him or to her?

In that case he would never have seen Hetta Carbury again; but, as things were, of what use was his love?


The kind of life of which he dreamed, such a life in England as was that of Roger Carbury, or, as such life would be, if Roger had a wife whom he loved, seemed to be far beyond his reach.

The kind of life of which he dreamed seemed to be far beyond his reach.


Would it not be well that he should go away, and, as he went, write to Hetta and bid her marry the best man that ever lived in the world?

Perhaps he should go away, and write to Hetta and bid her marry Roger Carbury - the best man that ever lived.


But the journey to Mexico was no longer open to him.


He had repudiated the proposition and had quarrelled with Melmotte.


It was necessary that he should immediately take some further step in regard to Mrs. Hurtle.


Twice lately he had gone to Islington determined that he would see that lady for the last time.


Then he had taken her to Lowestoft, and had been equally firm in his resolution that he would there put an end to his present bonds.


Now he had promised to go again to Islington;--and was aware that if he failed to keep his promise, she would come to him.

he had promised to go again to Islington. He knew that if he failed to keep his promise, she would come to him.


In this way there would never be an end to it.


He would certainly go again, as he had promised,--if she should still require it; but he would first try what a letter would do,--a plain unvarnished tale.

So he would go there; but first he would try what a letter would do - a plain unvarnished tale.


Might it still be possible that a plain tale sent by post should have sufficient efficacy?


This was his plain tale as he now told it.


I promised that I would go to you again in Islington, and so I will, if you still require it.

I promised that I would come to you again in Islington, and so I will, if you still require it.


But I think that such a meeting can be of no service to either of us.

But I think that such a meeting can be of no use to either of us.


I do not for a moment mean to justify my own conduct.

I do not mean to justify my own conduct.


When I met you on our journey hither from San Francisco, I was charmed with your genius, your beauty, and your character.

When I met you on our journey from San Francisco, I was charmed with your genius, your beauty, and your character.


They are now what I found them to be then.


But circumstances have made our lives and temperaments so far different, that I am certain that, were we married, we should not make each other happy.

But circumstances have made our lives and temperaments so different, that I am certain that, were we married, we should not make each other happy.


Of course the fault was mine; but it is better to own that fault, and to take all the blame,--and the evil consequences, let them be what they may,--

Of course the fault was mine; but it is better to own that fault, and to take all the blame, and any evil consequences


to be shot, for instance, like the gentleman in Oregon,--

(-to be shot, for instance, like the gentleman in Oregon-)


than to be married with the consciousness that even at the very moment of the ceremony, such marriage will be a matter of sorrow and repentance.

than to be married knowing that such marriage will be a matter of sorrow and repentance.


As soon as my mind was made up on this I wrote to you.


I can not,--I dare not,--blame you for the step you have since taken.

I cannot blame you for the step you have taken.


But I can only adhere to the resolution I then expressed.


The first day I saw you here in London you asked me whether I was attached to another woman.


But I should not of my own accord have spoken to you of altered affections.


It was after I had resolved to break my engagement with you that I first knew this girl.

But it was after I had resolved to break my engagement with you that I first knew this girl.


It was not because I had come to love her that I broke it.


I have no grounds whatever for hoping that my love will lead to any results.


I have now told you as exactly as I can the condition of my mind.


If it were possible for me in any way to compensate the injury I have done you,--or even to undergo retribution for it,--I would do so.

If it were possible for me in any way to compensate the injury I have done you, or to suffer retribution, I would do so.


But what compensation can be given, or what retribution can you exact?


I think that our further meeting can avail nothing.


But if, after this, you wish me to come again, I will come for the last time,--because I have promised.

But if you wish me to come again, I will come for the last time - because I have promised.


Mrs. Hurtle, as she read this, was torn in two ways.

Mrs. Hurtle, as she read this, was torn.


All that Paul had written was in accordance with the words written by herself on a scrap of paper which she still kept in her own pocket.

All that Paul had written was in accordance with the words written by herself on a scrap of paper which she still kept in her pocket.


Those words, fairly transcribed on a sheet of note-paper, would be the most generous and the fittest answer she could give.

Those words would be the most generous and the fittest answer she could give.


She had all a woman's natural desire to sacrifice herself.


But the sacrifice which would have been most to her taste would have been of another kind.


Had she found him ruined and penniless she would have delighted to share with him all that she possessed.


Had she found him a cripple, or blind, or miserably struck with some disease, she would have stayed by him and have nursed him and given him comfort.

, or blind, or crippled, she would have stayed by him and have given him comfort.


Even had he been disgraced she would have fled with him to some far country and have pardoned all his faults.


No sacrifice would have been too much for her that would have been accompanied by a feeling that he appreciated all that she was doing for him, and that she was loved in return.

No sacrifice would have been too much for her if she was appreciated and loved in return.


But to sacrifice herself by going away and never more being heard of, was too much for her!

But to sacrifice herself by going away was too much.


What woman can endure such sacrifice as that?


To give up not only her love, but her wrath also;--that was too much for her!

To give up not only her love, but her anger also!


The idea of being tame was terrible to her.


Her life had not been very prosperous, but she was what she was because she had dared to protect herself by her own spirit.

She had always protected herself by her own spirit.


Now, at last, should she succumb and be trodden on like a worm?


Should she be weaker even than an English girl?


Should she allow him to have amused himself with her love, to have had "a good time," and then to roam away like a bee, while she was so dreadfully scorched, so mutilated and punished!


Had not her whole life been opposed to the theory of such passive endurance?


She took out the scrap of paper and read it; and, in spite of all, she felt that there was a feminine softness in it that gratified her.

She took out the scrap of paper and read it; the softness in it gratified her.


And so she gave play to all her strongest feelings on the other side,--being in truth torn in two directions.


Then she sat herself down to her desk, and with rapid words, and flashing thoughts, wrote as follows:--


I have suffered many injuries, but of all injuries this is the worst and most unpardonable,--and the most unmanly.

I have suffered many injuries, but of all injuries this is the worst and most unmanly.


Surely there never was such a coward, never so false a liar.


The poor wretch that I destroyed was mad with liquor and was only acting after his kind.


Even Caradoc Hurtle never premeditated such wrong as this.

Even poor Caradoc Hurtle never premeditated such wrong as this.


What;--you are to bind yourself to me by the most solemn obligation that can join a man and a woman together, and then tell me,--when they have affected my whole life,--that they are to go for nothing, because they do not suit your view of things?

What; you are to bind yourself to me by the most solemn promises that can join a man and a woman together, and then tell me - when they have affected my whole life - that they are to go for nothing, because they do not suit your view of things?


On thinking over it, you find that an American wife would not make you so comfortable as some English girl;--and therefore it is all to go for nothing!


I have no brother, no man near me;--or you would not dare to do this.

I have no brother, no man near me; or you would not dare to do this.


You do not dare to say so, but you must mean it.


I desire you to come to me,--according to your promise,--and you will find me with a horsewhip in my hand.

I desire you to come to me - according to your promise - and you will find me with a horsewhip in my hand.


I will whip you till I have not a breath in my body.


And then I will see what you will dare to do;--whether you will drag me into a court of law for the assault.

And then I will see whether you will dare to drag me into a court of law for the assault.


And now you know the welcome you shall find.

Now you know the welcome you shall find.


I will buy the whip while this is reaching you, and you shall find that I know how to choose such a weapon.


But should you be afraid and break your promise, I will come to you.


I will make London too hot to hold you;--and if I do not find you I will go with my story to every friend you have.

I will make London too hot to hold you; and if I do not find you I will go with my story to every friend you have.


I have now told you as exactly as I can the condition of my mind.


Having written this she again read the short note, and again gave way to violent tears.


On the following morning she wrote a third, and sent that.


This letter duly reached Paul Montague at his lodgings.

This letter reached Paul Montague at his lodgings.


He had now no desire to delay the meeting.

, having no desire to delay the meeting.


He had at any rate taught her that his gentleness towards her, his going to the play with her, and drinking tea with her at Mrs. Pipkin's, and his journey with her to the sea, were not to be taken as evidence that he was gradually being conquered.


He had declared his purpose plainly enough at Lowestoft,--and plainly enough in his last letter.

He had declared his purpose plainly, and


She had told him down at the hotel, that had she by chance have been armed at the moment, she would have shot him.


She could arm herself now if she pleased;--but his real fear had not lain in that direction.

she could arm herself if she pleased; but he had now


The pang consisted in having to assure her that he was resolved to do her wrong.

told her that he was resolved to do her wrong.


The door was opened for him by Ruby, who by no means greeted him with a happy countenance.

The door was opened for him by Ruby, who looked unhappy.


It was the second morning after the night of her imprisonment; and nothing had occurred to alleviate her woe.


At this very moment her lover should have been in Liverpool, but he was, in fact, abed in Welbeck Street.

At this very moment her lover was in bed in Welbeck Street.


"Yes, sir; she's at home," said Ruby, with a baby in her arms and a little child hanging on to her dress.


"Please, sir, is Sir Felix still in London?"


Ruby had written to Sir Felix the very night of her imprisonment, but had not as yet received any reply.

Ruby had written to Sir Felix, but had not received any reply.


Paul, whose mind was altogether intent on his own troubles, declared that at present he knew nothing about Sir Felix, and was then shown into Mrs. Hurtle's room.

Paul declared that he knew nothing about Sir Felix, and was shown into Mrs. Hurtle's room.


[Illustration: The door was opened for him by Ruby.]


"So you have come," she said, without rising from her chair.


"Of course I came, when you desired it."


My wishes do not seem to affect you much.


Will you sit down there," she said, pointing to a seat at some distance from herself.


"So you think it would be best that you and I should never see each other again?"


She was very calm; but it seemed to him that the quietness was assumed, and that at any moment it might be converted into violence.

She was very calm; but it seemed to him that the quietness might at any moment change to violence.


He thought that there was that in her eye which seemed to foretell the spring of the wild-cat.

He thought that her eye seemed to foretell the spring of the wild-cat.


"Why should a gentleman trouble himself to say any more,--than that he has changed his mind?

"Why should a gentleman trouble himself to say any more than that he has changed his mind?


Why make a fuss about such little things as a woman's life, or a woman's heart?"


"And having come, in consequence of my unreasonable request, of course you are wise to hold your peace."


"But you did not promise to speak;--did you?"


Am I to be so weak as to tell you now what I would have you say?


Suppose you were to say, 'I am a gentleman, and a man of my word, and I repent me of my intended perfidy,' do you not think you might get your release that way?

Suppose you were to say, 'I am a gentleman, and a man of my word, and I repent of my intended perfidy,' do you not think you might get your release that way?


Might it not be possible that I should reply that as your heart was gone from me, your hand might go after it;--that I scorned to be the wife of a man who did not want me?"

Might it not be possible that I should reply that I scorned to be the wife of a man who did not want me?"


As she asked this she gradually raised her voice, and half lifted herself in her seat, stretching herself towards him.

As she asked this she gradually raised her voice, and half lifted herself in her seat.


"You might indeed," he replied, not well knowing what to say.


I should take you, Paul,--still take you; with a confidence that I should yet win you to me by my devotion.

I should still take you, Paul; with a confidence that I should yet win you by my devotion.


I have still some kindness of feeling towards you,--none to that woman who is I suppose younger than I, and gentler, and a maid."

I have still some kindness towards you - none to that woman who is I suppose younger and gentler than I."


She still looked as though she expected a reply, but there was nothing to be said in answer to this.

There was nothing to be said in answer to this.


"Now that you are going to leave me, Paul, is there any advice you can give me, as to what I shall do next?


I have given up every friend in the world for you.


Mrs. Pipkin's room here is more my home than any other spot on the earth.


I have all the world to choose from, but no reason whatever for a choice.


If I could die and be no more heard of, you should be welcome to it."


There was no answer possible to all this.


The questions were asked because there was no answer possible.


Paul, you are in some degree responsible,--are you not,--for my loneliness?"

You are in some degree responsible, are you not, for my loneliness?"


But you know that I cannot answer your questions."


"You cannot wonder that I should be somewhat in doubt as to my future life.


"As far as I can see, I had better remain here.


She went into hysterics yesterday when I spoke of leaving her."


That woman, Paul, would starve in our country, and I shall be desolate in this."


Then she paused, and there was absolute silence for a minute.


"You thought my letter very short; did you not?"


"It said, I suppose, all you had to say."


I wrote three, and had to choose which I would send you.


I fancy that yours to me was easier written than either one of mine.


I could not send them all by post, together.


While I was writing it, I was determined that that should go."


Then she handed him the sheet of paper which contained the threat of the horsewhip.


"I am glad you did not send that," he said.


"Is there anything in it that seems to you to be unreasonable?"


Is there anything said there which the usage to which I have been subjected does not justify?"


"You ask me questions which I cannot answer.


I do not think that under any provocation a woman should use a horsewhip."


"It is certainly more comfortable for gentlemen,--who amuse themselves,--that women should have that opinion.


But, upon my word, I don't know what to say about that.

"Upon my word, I don't know what to say about that.


As long as there are men to fight for women, it may be well to leave the fighting to the men.


But when a woman has no one to help her, is she to bear everything without turning upon those who ill-use her?

When a woman has no one to help her, is she to bear everything without turning upon those who ill-use her?


Shall a woman be flayed alive because it is unfeminine in her to fight for her own skin?

Shall a woman be flayed alive because it is unfeminine to fight for her own skin?


What is the good of being--feminine, as you call it?


That men may be attracted, I should say.


But if a woman finds that men only take advantage of her assumed weakness, shall she not throw it off?


If she be treated as prey, shall she not fight as a beast of prey?

If she is treated as prey, shall she not fight as a beast of prey?


The charm of womanly weakness presented itself to my mind in a soft moment,--and then I wrote this other letter.

Paul, the charm of womanly weakness entered my mind in a soft moment, and then I wrote this other letter."


And so she handed him the scrap which had been written at Lowestoft, and he read that also.

She handed him the scrap which had been written at Lowestoft.


He could hardly finish it, because of the tears which filled his eyes.

He could hardly finish it because of the tears which filled his eyes.


But, having mastered its contents, he came across the room and threw himself on his knees at her feet, sobbing.

Then he came across the room and threw himself on his knees at her feet, sobbing.


"I have not sent it, you know," she said.


"I only show it you that you may see how my mind has been at work."


"It hurts me more than the other," he replied.


"Nay, I would not hurt you,--not at this moment.

"Nay, I would not hurt you - not at this moment.


Sometimes I feel that I could tear you limb from limb, so great is my disappointment, so ungovernable my rage!

Sometimes I feel that I could tear you limb from limb, so great is my disappointment and my rage!


Why should life be an utter blank to me, while you have everything before you?


"I cannot now take that other as the expression of your mind."


"But it will be when you have left me;--and was when you were with me at the sea-side.

"But it will be my feeling when you have left me - and was when you were with me at the sea-side.


And it was so I felt when I got your first letter in San Francisco.


A man should kneel to a woman for love, not for pardon."


But though she spoke thus, she put her hand upon his forehead, and pushed back his hair, and looked into his face.

She put her hand upon his forehead, and pushed back his hair, and looked into his face.


"I wonder whether that other woman loves you.


She took his hand and pressed it to her breast.


When you spoke of--compensation, did you mean--money?"

When you spoke of compensation, did you mean - money?"


You shall be troubled no more with Winifrid Hurtle."


She took the sheet of paper which contained the threat of the horsewhip and tore it into scraps.


But she took it and restored it to her pocket-book.


Go, and let there be no other word spoken."


As soon as the front door was closed behind him she rang the bell and begged Ruby to ask Mrs. Pipkin to come to her.


"Mrs. Pipkin," she said, as soon as the woman had entered the room; "everything is over between me and Mr. Montague."


She was standing upright in the middle of the room, and as she spoke there was a smile on her face.


"Lord a' mercy," said Mrs. Pipkin, holding up both her hands.


"As I have told you that I was to be married to him, I think it right now to tell you that I'm not going to be married to him."


"And why not?--and he such a nice young man,--and quiet too."

"Why not? and he such a nice young man, and quiet too."


"As to the why not, I don't know that I am prepared to speak about that.


and you going down to Lowestoft with him, and all."


Mrs. Pipkin could not bear to think that she should hear no more of such an interesting story.


"We did go down to Lowestoft together, and we both came back,--not together.

"We did go down to Lowestoft together, and we came back - not together.


"I'm sure it's not your fault, Mrs. Hurtle.


When a marriage is to be, and doesn't come off, it never is the lady's fault."

When a marriage doesn't come off, it never is the lady's fault."


If you please, we won't say anything more about it."

If you please, Mrs. Pipkin, we won't say anything more about it."


said Mrs. Pipkin, prepared to have her apron up to her eyes at a moment's notice.


Where should she get such another lodger as Mrs. Hurtle,--a lady who not only did not inquire about victuals, but who was always suggesting that the children should eat this pudding or finish that pie, and who had never questioned an item in a bill since she had been in the house!

Where should she get such another lodger as Mrs. Hurtle, who had never questioned an item in a bill since she had been in the house!


"We'll say nothing about that yet, Mrs. Pipkin."


Then Mrs. Pipkin gave utterance to so many assurances of sympathy and help that it almost seemed that she was prepared to guarantee to her lodger another lover in lieu of the one who was now dismissed.

Then Mrs. Pipkin gave her so many assurances of sympathy and help that it almost seemed that she would guarantee her lodger another lover, in place of the one who was now dismissed.


Mr. Squercum all this time was in a perfect fever of hard work and anxiety.

Dolly's lawyer Mr. Squercum was all this time in a perfect fever of hard work and anxiety.


It may be said of him that he had been quite sharp enough to perceive the whole truth.

He had been quite sharp enough to perceive the whole truth


He did really know it all,--if he could prove that which he knew.


He had extended his enquiries in the city till he had convinced himself that, whatever wealth Melmotte might have had twelve months ago, there was not enough of it left at present to cover the liabilities.

His enquiries in the city had convinced him that Melmotte did not have enough money to cover his liabilities.


Squercum was quite sure that Melmotte was not a falling, but a fallen star,--perhaps not giving sufficient credence to the recuperative powers of modern commerce.

Squercum was quite sure that Melmotte was not a falling, but a fallen star.


Squercum told a certain stockbroker in the City, who was his specially confidential friend, that Melmotte was a "gone coon."


The stockbroker made also some few enquiries, and on that evening agreed with Squercum that Melmotte was a "gone coon."


If such were the case it would positively be the making of Squercum if it could be so managed that he should appear as the destroying angel of this offensive dragon.

If such were the case, it would be the making of Squercum if he could appear as Melmotte's destroying angel.


So Squercum raged among the Bideawhiles, who were unable altogether to shut their doors against him.


They could not dare to bid defiance to Squercum,--feeling that they had themselves blundered, and feeling also that they must be careful not to seem to screen a fault by a falsehood.

did not dare defy him - feeling that they had themselves blundered.


"I suppose you give it up about the letter having been signed by my client," said Squercum to the elder of the two younger Bideawhiles.

"I suppose you give it up about the letter having been signed by my client," said Squercum to one of the Bideawhiles.


"I give up nothing and I assert nothing," said the superior attorney.

"I give up nothing and I assert nothing," said he.


"Whether the letter be genuine or not we had no reason to believe it to be otherwise.


The young gentleman's signature is never very plain, and this one is about as like any other as that other would be like the last."

The young gentleman's signature is never very plain, and this one is about as alike as any other."


"Would you let me look at it again, Mr. Bideawhile?"


Then the letter which had been very often inspected during the last ten days was handed to Mr. Squercum.


"It's a stiff resemblance;--such as he never could have written had he tried it ever so."

"He never could have written it had he tried ever so."


"We are not generally on the lookout for forgeries in letters from our clients or our clients' sons."


But then Mr. Longestaffe had already told you that his son would not sign the letter."

But Mr. Longestaffe had already told you that his son would not sign the letter.


"How is one to know when and how and why a young man like that will change his purpose?"


But you see after such a declaration as that on the part of my client's father, the letter,--which is in itself a little irregular perhaps--"

And after such a declaration as that, the letter - which is in itself a little irregular-"


"I don't know that it's irregular at all."


"Well;--it didn't reach you in a very confirmatory manner.


What Mr. Longestaffe can have been at to wish to give up his title-deeds without getting anything for them--"

direct from Mr. Longstaffe. And why he would wish to give up his title-deeds without getting anything for them-"


"Excuse me, Mr. Squercum, but that's between Mr. Longestaffe and us."


"Just so;--but as Mr. Longestaffe and you have jeopardised my client's property it is natural that I should make a few remarks.

"Just so; but as Mr. Longestaffe and you have jeopardised my client's property it is natural that I should make a few remarks.


I think you'd have made a few remarks yourself, Mr. Bideawhile, if the case had been reversed.


I shall bring the matter before the Lord Mayor, you know."


"And I think I understand you now that you do not intend to insist on the signature as being genuine."

I understand that you now do not insist that the signature is genuine."


I think you'll find it very hard to prove that it's not genuine."


"I'm afraid your client is not always very clear as to what he does."


"I don't know what you mean by that, Mr. Bideawhile.


I fancy that if I were to speak in that way of your client you would be very angry with me.


Will the old gentleman say that he gave the letter into his son's hands, so that, even if such a freak should have come into my client's head, he could have signed it and sent it off?


If I understand, Mr. Longestaffe says that he locked the letter up in a drawer in the very room which Melmotte occupied, and that he afterwards found the drawer open.

And Mr. Longestaffe says that he locked the letter up in a drawer in the room which Melmotte occupied, and afterwards found the drawer open.


It won't, I suppose, be alleged that my client knew so little what he was about that he broke open the drawer in order that he might get at the letter.


Look at it whichever way you will, he did not sign it, Mr. Bideawhile."


All I say is that we had fair ground for supposing that it was his letter.


I really don't know that I can say anything more."


"Only that we are to a certain degree in the same boat together in this matter."


"I won't admit even that, Mr. Squercum."


"The difference being that your client by his fault has jeopardised his own interests and those of my client, while my client has not been in fault at all.


I shall bring the matter forward before the Lord Mayor to-morrow, and as at present advised shall ask for an investigation with reference to a charge of fraud.

I shall bring the matter before the Lord Mayor tomorrow, you know, and ask for an investigation into fraud."


I presume you will be served with a subpoena to bring the letter into court."


"If so you may be sure that we shall produce it."


Then Mr. Squercum took his leave and went straight away to Mr. Bumby, a barrister well known in the City.

Then Mr. Squercum left and went straight to Mr. Bumby, a barrister well known in the City.


The game was too powerful to be hunted down by Mr. Squercum's unassisted hands.


He had already seen Mr. Bumby on the matter more than once.


Mr. Bumby was inclined to doubt whether it might not be better to get the money, or some guarantee for the money.


Mr. Bumby thought that if a bill at three months could be had for Dolly's share of the property it might be expedient to take it.

Mr. Bumby thought that if a bill at three months could be had for Dolly's share of the property it might be better to take it.


Mr. Squercum suggested that the property itself might be recovered, no genuine sale having been made.

When Mr. Squercum suggested that the property itself might be recovered, no genuine sale having been made


"Title-deeds give possession, Mr. Squercum.


You don't suppose that the company which has lent money to Melmotte on the title-deeds would have to lose it.

The company which has lent money to Melmotte on the title-deeds will not give them up.


Take the bill; and if it is dishonoured run your chance of what you'll get out of the property."


"Every rap will have been made over," said Mr. Squercum.


This took place on the Monday, the day on which Melmotte had offered his full confidence to his proposed son-in-law.


On the following Wednesday three gentlemen met together in the study in the house in Bruton Street from which it was supposed that the letter had been abstracted.

three gentlemen met together in the study of the house in Bruton Street from which it was supposed that the letter had been taken.


There were Mr. Longestaffe, the father, Dolly Longestaffe, and Mr. Bideawhile.

They were Mr. Longestaffe senior, Dolly Longestaffe, and Mr. Bideawhile.


The house was still in Melmotte's possession, and Melmotte and Mr. Longestaffe were no longer on friendly terms.

The house was still in Melmotte's possession, and although he and Mr. Longestaffe were no longer on friendly terms


Direct application for permission to have this meeting in this place had been formally made to Mr. Melmotte, and he had complied.

, he had agreed to a formal request for this meeting.


The meeting took place at eleven o'clock--a terribly early hour.

It took place at eleven o'clock - a terribly early hour for Dolly.


Dolly had at first hesitated as to placing himself as he thought between the fire of two enemies, and Mr. Squercum had told him that as the matter would probably soon be made public, he could not judiciously refuse to meet his father and the old family lawyer.


Therefore Dolly had attended, at great personal inconvenience to himself.


"By George, it's hardly worth having if one is to take all this trouble about it," Dolly had said to Lord Grasslough, with whom he had fraternised since the quarrel with Nidderdale.

"By George, it's hardly worth having if one is to take all this trouble about it," Dolly had said to Lord Grasslough.


Dolly entered the room last, and at that time neither Mr. Longestaffe nor Mr. Bideawhile had touched the drawer, or even the table, in which the letter had been deposited.

He was the last to enter the room: neither Mr. Longestaffe nor Mr. Bideawhile had touched the drawer, or even the table.


"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," said Mr. Bideawhile, "perhaps you will show us where you think you put the letter."

"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," said Mr. Bideawhile, "show us where you think you put the letter."


"Since the matter has been discussed the whole thing has come back upon my memory."


"I never signed it," said Dolly, standing with his hands in his pockets and interrupting his father.


"Nobody says you did, sir," rejoined the father with an angry voice.

"Nobody says you did, sir," rejoined the father angrily.


"If you will condescend to listen we may perhaps arrive at the truth."


I've been told that Mr. Bideawhile says so."


We have only said that we had no reason for supposing the letter to be other than genuine.


"Nothing on earth would have made me sign it," said Dolly.


"Why should I have given my property up before I got my money?


The father looked up at the lawyer and shook his head, testifying as to the hopelessness of his son's obstinacy.


"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," continued the lawyer, "let us see where you put the letter."


Then the father very slowly, and with much dignity of deportment, opened the drawer,--the second drawer from the top, and took from it a bundle of papers very carefully folded and docketed.

The father very slowly opened the second drawer from the top, and took from it a bundle of folded papers.


"There," said he, "the letter was not placed in the envelope but on the top of it, and the two were the two first documents in the bundle."

"There," said he, "the letter was on top of the envelope and they were the two first documents in the bundle."


He went on to say that as far as he knew no other paper had been taken away.


He was quite certain that he had left the drawer locked.

he was quite certain that he had left the drawer locked.


He was very particular in regard to that particular drawer, and he remembered that about this time Mr. Melmotte had been in the room with him when he had opened it, and,--as he was certain,--had locked it again.

He also remembered that about this time Mr. Melmotte had been in the room with him when he had opened it, and locked it again.


At that special time there had been, he said, considerable intimacy between him and Melmotte.


It was then that Mr. Melmotte had offered him a seat at the Board of the Mexican railway.

It was at that time that Mr. Melmotte had offered him a seat on the Board of the Mexican railway.


"Of course he picked the lock, and stole the letter," said Dolly.


"I am afraid that it falls short of evidence, however strong and just may be the suspicion induced," said the lawyer.

"I am afraid that it falls short of evidence, however strong the suspicion may be," said the lawyer.


"Your father for a time was not quite certain about the letter."


"He thought that I had signed it," said Dolly.


"I am quite certain now," rejoined the father angrily.


"A man has to collect his memory before he can be sure of anything."


"I am thinking you know how it would go to a jury."

"I am thinking how it would go before a jury."


"What I want to know is how we are to get the money," said Dolly.


"I should like to see him hung,--of course; but I'd sooner have the money.


"Adolphus, we don't want to know here what Mr. Squercum says."

"Adolphus, we don't want to know what Mr. Squercum says."


"I don't know why what Mr. Squercum says shouldn't be as good as what Mr. Bideawhile says.


Of course Squercum doesn't sound very aristocratic."


"Quite as much so as Bideawhile, no doubt," said the lawyer laughing.


"No; Squercum isn't aristocratic, and Fetter Lane is a good deal lower than Lincoln's Inn.


Nevertheless Squercum may know what he's about.


It was Squercum who was first down upon Melmotte in this matter, and if it wasn't for Squercum we shouldn't know as much about it as we do at present."

If it wasn't for Squercum we shouldn't know as much about it as we do."


Squercum's name was odious to the elder Longestaffe.


He believed, probably without much reason, that all his family troubles came to him from Squercum, thinking that if his son would have left his affairs in the hands of the old Slows and the old Bideawhiles, money would never have been scarce with him, and that he would not have made this terrible blunder about the Pickering property.


And the sound of Squercum, as his son knew, was horrid to his ears.


He hummed and hawed, and fumed and fretted about the room, shaking his head and frowning.

He hummed and hawed, and fumed and fretted about the room, shaking his head.


His son looked at him as though quite astonished at his displeasure.


"There's nothing more to be done here, sir, I suppose," said Dolly putting on his hat.

"There's nothing more to be done here, sir, I suppose," said Dolly, putting on his hat.


"It may be that I shall have to instruct counsel, and I thought it well that I should see in the presence of both of you exactly how the thing stood.

"I thought it well that I should see in the presence of both of you exactly how the thing stood.


You speak so positively, Mr. Longestaffe, that there can be no doubt?"


"And now perhaps you had better lock the drawer in our presence.


Stop a moment--I might as well see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."

I will see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."


So saying Mr. Bideawhile knelt down in front of the table and began to examine the lock.

So saying he knelt down and carefully examined the lock.


This he did very carefully and satisfied himself that there was "no sign of violence."


"Whoever has done it, did it very well," said Bideawhile.


[Illustration: "I might as well see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."]


"Of course Melmotte did it," said Dolly Longestaffe standing immediately over Bideawhile's shoulder.

"Of course Melmotte did it," said Dolly.


At that moment there was a knock at the door,--a very distinct, and, we may say, a formal knock.

At that moment there was a knock at the door.


There are those who knock and immediately enter without waiting for the sanction asked.