The story was a hard one to tell, with all the workmen around her, in the midst of the lumber, with the coarse face of the suspicious man looking down upon her; but she did tell it very simply.

The story was a hard one to tell; but she did tell it very simply.


She had come with a message from her brother.

Chapter 68: Miss Melmotte Declares her Purpose


There had been something between her brother and Miss Melmotte, and her brother had felt that it would be best that he should acknowledge that it must be all over.

There had been something between her brother and Miss Melmotte, and her brother had felt that it would be best that he should acknowledge that it must all be over.


"I wonder whether that is true," said Melmotte, looking at her out of his great coarse eyes, with his eyebrows knit, with his hat on his head and his hands in his pockets.

"I wonder whether that is true," said Melmotte, with his eyebrows knit.


Hetta, not knowing how, at the moment, to repudiate the suspicion expressed, was silent.


"Because, you know, there has been a deal of falsehood and double dealing.


Sir Felix has behaved infamously; yes,--by G----, infamously.


A day or two before my daughter started, he gave me a written assurance that the whole thing was over, and now he sends you here.


How am I to know what you are really after?"


"I have come because I thought I could do some good," she said, trembling with anger and fear.


"I was speaking to your daughter at your party."


It may be as you say, but how is one to tell?


When one has been deceived like that, one is apt to be suspicious, Miss Carbury."


Here was one who had spent his life in lying to the world, and who was in his very heart shocked at the atrocity of a man who had lied to him!


"You are not plotting another journey to Liverpool;--are you?"

You are not plotting another journey to Liverpool; are you?


The insult was too much, but alone, unsupported, she did not know how to give him back scorn for scorn.


At last he proposed to take her across to Bruton Street himself, and at his bidding she walked by his side.

I will take you across to Bruton Street to see her."
At his bidding she walked by his side.


"If you suspect me, Mr. Melmotte, I had better not see her at all.


It is only that there may no longer be any doubt."


But I have told you, and you can say it for me.


If you please, I think I will go home now."


But Melmotte knew that his daughter would not believe him on such a subject.


And though Melmotte himself found it difficult to trust anybody, he thought that there was more possible good than evil to be expected from the proposed interview.


"I don't suppose she's such a fool as to try that kind of thing again."


Then the door in Bruton Street was opened, and Hetta, repenting her mission, found herself almost pushed into the hall.

The door in Bruton Street was opened, and Hetta found herself almost pushed into the hall.


She was bidden to follow Melmotte up-stairs, and was left alone in the drawing-room, as she thought, for a long time.

She was left alone in the drawing-room for a long time.


Then the door was slowly opened and Marie crept into the room.


"Miss Carbury," she said, "this is so good of you,--so good of you!

"Miss Carbury," she said, "this is so good of you!


and Marie, sitting down by the stranger, took her hand and encircled her waist.

and Marie, sitting down, took her hand and encircled her waist.


"Mr. Melmotte has told you why I have come."


To poor Hetta such an announcement as this was horrible.

To poor Hetta this announcement was horrible.


He thinks I ought to do just what he tells me, as though my very soul were not my own.

"He thinks I ought to do just what he tells me, as though my soul were not my own.


Hetta had not come there to preach disobedience, but could not fail to remember at the moment that she was not disposed to obey her mother in an affair of the same kind.


Hetta's message was to be conveyed in three words, and when those were told, there was nothing more to be said.


The other night you told me to bid him send you word.


I gave him your message, and I have brought back the answer.


My brother, you know, has no income of his own;--nothing at all."

My brother, you know, has no income - nothing at all."


"But I have," said Marie with eagerness.


If papa treats me badly, I can give it to my husband.


All the people that one hears of that are really true to their loves never find anything impossible.


She paused, but Hetta could not answer the question.


If you know I think you ought to tell me."


"Miss Melmotte--" began poor Hetta very slowly.

"Miss Melmotte-" began poor Hetta very slowly.


You said you would love me;--did you not?


And I'll tell you, though you must not tell anybody again;--I have no real mother.

And I'll tell you, though you must not tell anybody: I have no real mother.


Madame Melmotte is not my mamma, though papa chooses that it should be thought so."


All this she whispered, with rapid words, almost into Hetta's ear.


The new friend, round whom Marie still had her arm, shuddered as she heard this.


When he boxes and thumps me I always turn and gnash my teeth at him.

When he thumps me I turn and gnash my teeth at him.


Can you wonder that I want to have a friend?


Can you be surprised that I should be always thinking of my lover?


But,--if he doesn't love me, what am I to do then?"

But if he doesn't love me, what am I to do then?"


"I don't know what I am to say," ejaculated Hetta amidst her sobs.


Whether the girl was good or bad, to be sought or to be avoided, there was so much tragedy in her position that Hetta's heart was melted with sympathy.


"I wonder whether you love anybody, and whether he loves you," said Marie.


Hetta certainly had not come there to talk of her own affairs, and made no reply to this.


"I suppose you won't tell me about yourself."


"I wish I could tell you something for your own comfort."

"I wish I could tell you something for your comfort."


Why should not we walk out of the house, and be married any way?

Why should we not walk out of the house, and be married anyway?


Papa could only turn me out of his house.


It seemed to Hetta that even listening to such a proposition amounted to falsehood,--to that guilt of which Mr. Melmotte had dared to suppose that she could be capable.


My brother is sure that he cannot--cannot--"

"Indeed my brother is sure that he cannot - cannot-"


There came over the face of the other girl a stern hard look, as though she had resolved at the moment to throw away from her all soft womanly things.


And she relaxed her hold on Hetta's waist.

and she relaxed her hold on Hetta's waist.


"Oh, my dear, I do not mean to be cruel, but you ask me for the truth."

"Oh, my dear, I do not mean to be cruel, but you asked me for the truth."


"What liars they are, what brutes;--what wretches!

"What liars they are, what brutes; what wretches!


That other man never said that he loved me.


Hetta could hardly say that her brother was incapable of such love as Marie expected, but she knew that it was so.


"It is better that you should think of him no more."


If you had loved a man and told him of it, and agreed to be his wife and done as I have, could you bear to be told to think of him no more,--just as though you had got rid of a servant or a horse?

If you had loved a man and agreed to be his wife, could you bear to be told to think of him no more?


I'll marry that other man to spite him, and then, when he finds that we are rich, he'll be broken-hearted."


Tell him,--tell him, that I hate him, and that if I ever meet him, I will look at him so that he shall never forget it.


I could,--oh!--you do not know what I could do.


Tell me;--did he tell you to say that he did not love me?"

Did he tell you to say that he did not love me?"


But did he say that I was to be told that he did not love me?"


Tell him that I say that he is a false-hearted liar, and that I trample him under my foot."


Marie as she said this thrust her foot upon the ground as though that false one were in truth beneath it,--and spoke aloud, as though regardless who might hear her.


They are all bad, but he is the worst of all.


He might have beaten me and reviled me, and I could have borne it.


But to think that he was a liar all the time;--that I can't bear."

But to think that he was a liar all the time; that I can't bear."


Hetta kissed her, tried to comfort her, and left her sobbing on the sofa.


Later in the day, two or three hours after Miss Carbury had gone, Marie Melmotte, who had not shown herself at luncheon, walked into Madame Melmotte's room, and thus declared her purpose.

Two or three hours later, Marie Melmotte walked into Madame Melmotte's room, and declared


: "You can tell papa that I will marry Lord Nidderdale whenever he pleases."


On hearing this Madame Melmotte expressed herself to be delighted.


"Your papa," said she, "will be very glad to hear that you have thought better of this at last.

"Your papa will be very glad to hear it," said Madame Melmotte.


Lord Nidderdale is, I am sure, a very good young man."


"Yes," continued Marie, boiling over with passion as she spoke.


"I'll marry Lord Nidderdale, or that horrid Mr. Grendall who is worse than all the others, or his old fool of a father,--or the sweeper at the crossing,--or the black man that waits at table, or anybody else that he chooses to pick up.

"I'll marry Lord Nidderdale, or that horrid Mr. Grendall, or his old fool of a father - or the sweeper at the crossing, or anybody else that he chooses.


I don't care who it is the least in the world.


But I'll lead him such a life afterwards!


I'll make Lord Nidderdale repent the hour he saw me!


And then, having thus entrusted her message to Madame Melmotte, Marie left the room.

And having entrusted this message to Madame Melmotte, Marie left the room.


During the last six weeks Lady Carbury had lived a life of very mixed depression and elevation.

During the last six weeks Lady Carbury had lived a life of mixed depression and elevation.


Her great work had come out,--the "Criminal Queens,"--and had been very widely reviewed.

Her "Criminal Queens" had come out, and had been widely reviewed.


In this matter it had been by no means all pleasure, in as much as many very hard words had been said of her.

However, many hard words had been said of her.


In spite of the dear friendship between herself and Mr. Alf, one of Mr. Alf's most sharp-nailed subordinates had been set upon her book, and had pulled it to pieces with almost rabid malignity.

In spite of the dear friendship between herself and Mr. Alf, one of Mr. Alf's most sharp-nailed subordinates had been set upon her book, and had pulled it to pieces with rabid malignity.


One would have thought that so slight a thing could hardly have been worthy of such protracted attention.


Error after error was laid bare with merciless prolixity.

Error after error was laid bare without mercy.


No doubt the writer of the article must have had all history at his finger-ends, as in pointing out the various mistakes made he always spoke of the historical facts which had been misquoted, misdated, or misrepresented, as being familiar in all their bearings to every schoolboy of twelve years old.

The writer pointed out basic historical facts which had been misquoted, misdated, or misrepresented.


The writer of the criticism never suggested the idea that he himself, having been fully provided with books of reference, and having learned the art of finding in them what he wanted at a moment's notice, had, as he went on with his work, checked off the blunders without any more permanent knowledge of his own than a housekeeper has of coals when she counts so many sacks into the coal-cellar.


He spoke of the parentage of one wicked ancient lady, and the dates of the frailties of another, with an assurance intended to show that an exact knowledge of all these details abided with him always.

with an assurance intended to show that he himself had an exact knowledge of all these details.


He must have been a man of vast and varied erudition, and his name was Jones.


The world knew him not, but his erudition was always there at the command of Mr. Alf,--and his cruelty.

The world knew him not, but his learning was at the command of Mr. Alf.


The greatness of Mr. Alf consisted in this, that he always had a Mr. Jones or two ready to do his work for him.

Mr. Alf always had a Mr. Jones or two ready to do his work for him.


It was a great business, this of Mr. Alf's, for he had his Jones also for philology, for science, for poetry, for politics, as well as for history, and one special Jones, extraordinarily accurate and very well posted up in his references, entirely devoted to the Elizabethan drama.

He had his Jones for science, for poetry, for politics, as well as for history, and one special Jones entirely devoted to the Elizabethan drama.


There is the review intended to sell a book,--which comes out immediately after the appearance of the book, or sometimes before it; the review which gives reputation, but does not affect the sale, and which comes a little later; the review which snuffs a book out quietly; the review which is to raise or lower the author a single peg, or two pegs, as the case may be; the review which is suddenly to make an author, and the review which is to crush him.

There is the review intended to sell a book, which comes out immediately after the book's appearance; there is the review which gives reputation, which comes a little later; the review which snuffs a book out quietly; the review which is suddenly to make an author, and the review which is to crush him.


An exuberant Jones has been known before now to declare aloud that he would crush a man, and a self-confident Jones has been known to declare that he has accomplished the deed.


Of all reviews, the crushing review is the most popular, as being the most readable.

Of all reviews, the crushing review is the most readable and the most popular.


When the rumour goes abroad that some notable man has been actually crushed,--been positively driven over by an entire Juggernaut's car of criticism till his literary body be a mere amorphous mass,--then a real success has been achieved, and the Alf of the day has done a great thing; but even the crushing of a poor Lady Carbury, if it be absolute, is effective.

When the rumour goes abroad that some notable man has been crushed - been positively driven over by an entire Juggernaut of criticism - then a real success has been achieved; but even the crushing of a Lady Carbury is effective, and


Such a review will not make all the world call for the "Evening Pulpit," but it will cause those who do take the paper to be satisfied with their bargain.

will cause those who buy the paper to be satisfied with their bargain.


Whenever the circulation of such a paper begins to slacken, the proprietors should, as a matter of course, admonish their Alf to add a little power to the crushing department.

Whenever the circulation of a newspaper begins to slacken, the proprietors should, as a matter of course, add a little power to the crushing department.


Lady Carbury had been crushed by the "Evening Pulpit."

Lady Carbury had been crushed by the Evening Pulpit


We may fancy that it was easy work, and that Mr. Alf's historical Mr. Jones was not forced to fatigue himself by the handling of many books of reference.


The errors did lie a little near the surface; and the whole scheme of the work, with its pandering to bad tastes by pretended revelations of frequently fabulous crime, was reprobated in Mr. Jones's very best manner.


But the poor authoress, though utterly crushed, and reduced to little more than literary pulp for an hour or two, was not destroyed.

But the poor authoress, though reduced to little more than literary pulp for an hour or two, was not destroyed.


On the following morning she went to her publishers, and was closeted for half an hour with the senior partner, Mr. Leadham.

On the following morning she went to her publishers, and met the senior partner, Mr. Leadham.


"I've got it all in black and white," she said, full of the wrong which had been done her, "and can prove him to be wrong.

"I've got it all in black and white," she said, "and can prove him to be wrong.


It was in 1522 that the man first came to Paris, and he couldn't have been her lover before that.


I got it all out of the 'Biographie Universelle.'


I'll write to Mr. Alf myself,--a letter to be published, you know."

I'll write to Mr. Alf myself - a letter to be published, you know."


"Pray don't do anything of the kind, Lady Carbury."


"I've got all the facts,--and the figures."


Mr. Leadham did not care a straw for facts or figures,--had no opinion of his own whether the lady or the reviewer were right; but he knew very well that the "Evening Pulpit" would surely get the better of any mere author in such a contention.

Mr. Leadham did not care a straw for facts or figures; but he knew very well that the Evening Pulpit would get the better of any mere author in such an argument.


"Never fight the newspapers, Lady Carbury."


Who ever yet got any satisfaction by that kind of thing?


It's their business, and you are not used to it."


It does seem so hard," said Lady Carbury, wiping hot tears from her cheeks.

It does seem so hard," said Lady Carbury, wiping tears from her cheeks.


"It won't do us the least harm, Lady Carbury."


A book of that sort couldn't hope to go on very long, you know.


The 'Breakfast Table' gave it an excellent lift, and came just at the right time.

The Breakfast Table gave it an excellent lift, just at the right time.


I rather like the notice in the 'Pulpit,' myself."

I rather like the notice in the Pulpit, myself."


said Lady Carbury, still suffering in every fibre of her self-love from the soreness produced by those Juggernaut's car-wheels.


"Anything is better than indifference, Lady Carbury.


A great many people remember simply that the book has been noticed, but carry away nothing as to the purport of the review.

A great many people remember simply that the book has been noticed.


"But to be told that I have got to learn the ABC of history,--after working as I have worked!"

"But to be told that I have got to learn the ABC of history!"


"That's a mere form of speech, Lady Carbury."


"You think the book has done pretty well?"


"Pretty well;--just about what we hoped, you know."

"Pretty well; just about what we hoped, you know."


"There'll be something coming to me, Mr. Leadham?"


Mr. Leadham sent for a ledger, and turned over a few pages and ran up a few figures, and then scratched his head.

Mr. Leadham sent for a ledger, and ran up a few figures, and then scratched his head.


There would be something, but Lady Carbury was not to imagine that it could be very much.


It did not often happen that a great deal could be made by a first book.

A first book did not often make a great deal.


Nevertheless, Lady Carbury, when she left the publisher's shop, did carry a cheque with her.

Nevertheless, Lady Carbury, when she left the publisher's shop, did carry a cheque.


She was smartly dressed and looked very well, and had smiled on Mr. Leadham.

She was smartly dressed, and had smiled on Mr. Leadham.


Mr. Leadham, too, was no more than man, and had written--a small cheque.

Mr. Leadham was no more than man, and had written a small cheque.


Mr. Alf certainly had behaved badly to her; but both Mr. Broune of the "Breakfast Table," and Mr. Booker of the "Literary Chronicle," had been true to her interests.

Mr. Alf certainly had behaved badly to her; but both Mr. Broune of the Breakfast Table, and Mr. Booker of the Literary Chronicle, had been true.


Lady Carbury had, as she promised, "done" Mr. Booker's "New Tale of a Tub" in the "Breakfast Table."

Lady Carbury had, as she promised, "done" Mr. Booker's "New Tale of a Tub" in the Breakfast Table.


That is, she had been allowed, as a reward for looking into Mr. Broune's eyes, and laying her soft hand on Mr. Broune's sleeve, and suggesting to Mr. Broune that no one understood her so well as he did, to bedaub Mr. Booker's very thoughtful book in a very thoughtless fashion,--and to be paid for her work.

That is, she had been allowed, as a reward for looking into Mr. Broune's eyes, and laying her soft hand on Mr. Broune's sleeve, to bedaub Mr. Booker's very thoughtful book in a very thoughtless fashion, and to be paid for it.


What had been said about his work in the "Breakfast Table" had been very distasteful to poor Mr. Booker.

Her review had been very distasteful to poor Mr. Booker.


It grieved his inner contemplative intelligence that such rubbish should be thrown upon him; but in his outside experience of life he knew that even the rubbish was valuable, and that he must pay for it in the manner to which he had unfortunately become accustomed.

It grieved his intelligence that such rubbish should be thrown upon him; but he knew that even the rubbish was valuable, and that he must pay for it in the usual manner.


So Mr. Booker himself wrote the article on the "Criminal Queens" in the "Literary Chronicle," knowing that what he wrote would also be rubbish.

So Mr. Booker himself reviewed "Criminal Queens" in the Literary Chronicle, knowing that what he wrote would also be rubbish.


"Considerable intimacy with the historical details of various periods."


"The literary world would be sure to hear of Lady Carbury again."


The composition of the review, together with the reading of the book, consumed altogether perhaps an hour of Mr. Booker's time.

The writing of the review, together with the reading of the book, took him perhaps an hour.


He made no attempt to cut the pages, but here and there read those that were open.


He had done this kind of thing so often, that he knew well what he was about.

He had done this kind of thing so often that he knew what he was about.


He could have reviewed such a book when he was three parts asleep.


When the work was done he threw down his pen and uttered a deep sigh.


He felt it to be hard upon him that he should be compelled, by the exigencies of his position, to descend so low in literature; but it did not occur to him to reflect that in fact he was not compelled, and that he was quite at liberty to break stones, or to starve honestly, if no other honest mode of carrying on his career was open to him.

, feeling it hard that he had to descend so low in literature.


"If I didn't, somebody else would," he said to himself.


But the review in the "Morning Breakfast Table" was the making of Lady Carbury's book, as far as it ever was made.

But the review in the Morning Breakfast Table was the making of Lady Carbury's book, as far as it ever was made.


Mr. Broune saw the lady after the receipt of the letter given in the first chapter of this Tale, and was induced to make valuable promises which had been fully performed.


Two whole columns had been devoted to the work, and the world had been assured that no more delightful mixture of amusement and instruction had ever been concocted than Lady Carbury's "Criminal Queens."

Two whole columns had been devoted to the work, assuring the world that no more delightful mixture of amusement and instruction had ever been concocted than Criminal Queens.


It was the very book that had been wanted for years.


It was a work of infinite research and brilliant imagination combined.


There had been no hesitation in the laying on of the paint.


At that last meeting Lady Carbury had been very soft, very handsome, and very winning; Mr. Broune had given the order with good will, and it had been obeyed in the same feeling.

At that last meeting Lady Carbury had been very soft and very handsome; Mr. Broune had given the order, and it had been obeyed.


Therefore, though the crushing had been very real, there had also been some elation; and as a net result, Lady Carbury was disposed to think that her literary career might yet be a success.

Therefore, despite the crushing, there had also been some elation; and overall Lady Carbury was disposed to think that her literary career might yet be a success.


Mr. Leadham's cheque had been for a small amount, but it might probably lead the way to something better.

The small cheque might lead to something better.


People at any rate were talking about her, and her Tuesday evenings at home were generally full.


But her literary life, and her literary successes, her flirtations with Mr. Broune, her business with Mr. Booker, and her crushing by Mr. Alf's Mr. Jones, were after all but adjuncts to that real inner life of hers of which the absorbing interest was her son.

But her literary life and successes were only adjuncts to her real inner life, of which the absorbing interest was her son.


And with regard to him too she was partly depressed, and partly elated, allowing her hopes however to dominate her fears.

About him too she was partly depressed, and partly elated.


Even the moderate reform in the young man's expenses which had been effected under dire necessity had been of late abandoned.

Any moderate reform in the young man's expenses had been abandoned.


Though he never told her anything, she became aware that during the last month of the hunting season he had hunted nearly every day.

Though he never told her anything, she became aware that during the last month of the hunting season he hunted nearly every day.


She knew, too, that he had a horse up in town.


She never saw him but once in the day, when she visited him in his bed about noon, and was aware that he was always at his club throughout the night.

She only saw him at noon, and was aware that he was always at his club throughout the night,


She knew that he was gambling, and she hated gambling as being of all pastimes the most dangerous.


But she knew that he had ready money for his immediate purposes, and that two or three tradesmen who were gifted with a peculiar power of annoying their debtors, had ceased to trouble her in Welbeck Street.

But she knew that he had ready money, and that two or three tradesmen had ceased to trouble her in Welbeck Street.


For the present, therefore, she consoled herself by reflecting that his gambling was successful.


But her elation sprung from a higher source than this.

But her elation sprung from a higher source.


From all that she could hear, she thought it likely that Felix would carry off the great prize; and then,--should he do that,--what a blessed son would he have been to her!

From all that she could hear, she thought it likely that Felix would carry off the great prize of Marie Melmotte; and then what a blessed son would he have been!


How constantly in her triumph would she be able to forget all his vices, his debts, his gambling, his late hours, and his cruel treatment of herself!

She would be able to forget all his vices, his debts, his gambling, and his cruel treatment of herself!


As she thought of it the bliss seemed to be too great for the possibility of realisation.

The bliss seemed too great to be possible.


She was taught to understand that 10,000 a year, to begin with, would be the least of it; and that the ultimate wealth might probably be such as to make Sir Felix Carbury the richest commoner in England.

She understood that 10,000 a year to start with would be the least of it; and that the ultimate wealth might make Sir Felix Carbury the richest commoner in England.


In her very heart of hearts she worshipped wealth, but desired it for him rather than for herself.

She desired it for him rather than for herself.


Then her mind ran away to baronies and earldoms, and she was lost in the coming glories of the boy whose faults had already nearly engulfed her in his own ruin.

Then her mind ran away to baronies and earldoms, and she was lost in the coming glories of the boy whose faults had nearly ruined her.


And she had another ground for elation, which comforted her much, though elation from such a cause was altogether absurd.


She had discovered that her son had become a Director of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway Company.

: her son had become a Director of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway Company.


She must have known,--she certainly did know,--that Felix, such as he was, could not lend assistance by his work to any company or commercial enterprise in the world.


She was aware that there was some reason for such a choice hidden from the world, and which comprised and conveyed a falsehood.

She was aware that there was some reason for such a choice that was hidden from the world.


A ruined baronet of five-and-twenty, every hour of whose life since he had been left to go alone had been loaded with vice and folly,--whose egregious misconduct warranted his friends in regarding him as one incapable of knowing what principle is,--of what service could he be, that he should be made a Director?

A ruined baronet of five-and-twenty, whose life had been loaded with vice and folly - of what use could he be?


But Lady Carbury, though she knew that he could be of no service, was not at all shocked.


She was now able to speak up a little for her boy, and did not forget to send the news by post to Roger Carbury.

She was now able to speak up for her boy, and sent the news by post to Roger Carbury.


And her son sat at the same Board with Mr. Melmotte!

Her son on the same Board with Mr. Melmotte!


What an indication was this of coming triumphs!


Fisker had started, as the reader will perhaps remember, on the morning of Saturday, 19th April, leaving Sir Felix at the Club at about seven in the morning.

Fisker had departed on the 19th of April, leaving Sir Felix at the Club.


All that day his mother was unable to see him.


She found him asleep in his room at noon and again at two; and when she sought him again he had flown.


"I hope," she said, "you'll stay at home on Tuesday evening."


Hitherto she had never succeeded in inducing him to grace her evening parties by his presence.

Hitherto she had never succeeded in inducing him to attend her evening parties.


You know, mother, it is such an awful bore."


"Madame Melmotte and her daughter will be here."


"One looks such a fool carrying on that kind of thing in one's own house.


Everybody sees that it has been contrived."


And it is such a pokey, stuffy little place!"


I have given over ever expecting that you would do anything to please me.

I have given up expecting that you would do anything to please me.


I sacrifice everything for you and I do not even hope for a return.


But when I am doing everything to advance your own interests, when I am working night and day to rescue you from ruin, I think you might at any rate help a little,--not for me of course, but for yourself."

But when I am working night and day to rescue you from ruin, I think you might at any rate help a little - not for me, but for yourself."


"I don't know what you mean by working day and night.


I don't want you to work day and night."


"There is hardly a young man in London that is not thinking of this girl, and you have chances that none of them have.


I am told they are going out of town at Whitsuntide, and that she's to meet Lord Nidderdale down in the country."


"She will do as she is told,--unless she can be made to be downright in love with some one like yourself.

"She will do as she is told - unless she can be made to be in love with someone like yourself.


"If I'm to do it at all I must do it after my own fashion.

"If I'm to do it I must do it in my own way.


"Of course if you will not take the trouble to be here to see her when she comes to your own house, you cannot expect her to think that you really love her."

"Of course if you will not take the trouble to see her when she comes to your own house, you cannot expect her to think that you love her."


Felix, you are so heartless and so cruel that I sometimes think I will make up my mind to let you go your own way and never to speak to you again.

Felix, you are so heartless that I sometimes think I will let you go your own way and never speak to you again.


My friends will be here about ten;--I should say from ten till twelve.


I think you should be here to receive her, not later than ten."


"If I can get my dinner out of my throat by that time, I will come."

"If I can get my dinner by that time, I will come."


When the Tuesday came, the over-driven young man did contrive to get his dinner eaten, and his glass of brandy sipped, and his cigar smoked, and perhaps his game of billiards played, so as to present himself in his mother's drawing-room not long after half-past ten.

When the Tuesday came, the young man did contrive to get his dinner eaten, and his glass of brandy sipped, so as to present himself in his mother's drawing-room not long after half-past ten.


Madame Melmotte and her daughter were already there,--and many others, of whom the majority were devoted to literature.

Madame Melmotte and her daughter were already there, and many others.


Among them Mr. Alf was in the room, and was at this very moment discussing Lady Carbury's book with Mr. Booker.

Mr. Alf was discussing Lady Carbury's book with Mr. Booker.


He had been quite graciously received, as though he had not authorised the crushing.

He had been graciously received, as though he had not authorised the crushing.


Lady Carbury had given him her hand with that energy of affection with which she was wont to welcome her literary friends, and had simply thrown one glance of appeal into his eyes as she looked into his face,--as though asking him how he had found it in his heart to be so cruel to one so tender, so unprotected, so innocent as herself.

Lady Carbury had given him her hand, and had simply thrown one appealing glance into his eyes - as though asking how he had found it in his heart to be so cruel to one so unprotected as herself.


"I cannot stand this kind of thing," said Mr. Alf, to Mr. Booker.

"I cannot stand this kind of thing," said Mr. Alf to Mr. Booker.


"There's a regular system of touting got abroad, and I mean to trample it down."


"If you're strong enough," said Mr. Booker.


I'm strong enough, at any rate, to show that I'm not afraid to lead the way.


I've the greatest possible regard for our friend here;--but her book is a bad book, a thoroughly rotten book, an unblushing compilation from half-a-dozen works of established reputation, in pilfering from which she has almost always managed to misapprehend her facts, and to muddle her dates.

I've the greatest possible regard for our friend here; but her book is a thoroughly rotten book, an unblushing compilation from half-a-dozen other works, with misunderstood facts and muddled dates.


Then she writes to me and asks me to do the best I can for her.


Mr. Alf knew very well what Mr. Booker had done, and Mr. Booker was aware of the extent of Mr. Alf's knowledge.

Mr. Alf knew very well what Mr. Booker had done, and Mr. Booker was aware of this.


"What you say is all very right," said Mr. Booker; "only you want a different kind of world to live in."

"What you say is right," said Mr. Booker; "only you want a different kind of world to live in."


"Just so;--and therefore we must make it different.

"Just so; and therefore we must make it different.


I wonder how our friend Broune felt when he saw that his critic had declared that the 'Criminal Queens' was the greatest historical work of modern days."

I wonder how our friend Broune felt when he saw that his critic had declared that the Criminal Queens was the greatest historical work of modern days."


There isn't much in the book, certainly, as far as I have looked at it.

There isn't much in the book, certainly.


I should have said that violent censure or violent praise would be equally thrown away upon it.


One doesn't want to break a butterfly on the wheel;--especially a friendly butterfly."

One doesn't want to break a butterfly on the wheel; especially a friendly butterfly."


"As to the friendship, it should be kept separate.


That's my idea," said Mr. Alf, moving away.


"I'll never forget what you've done for me,--never!"

"I'll never forget what you've done for me - never!"


said Lady Carbury, holding Mr. Broune's hand for a moment, as she whispered to him.

said Lady Carbury, holding Mr. Broune's hand.


"Nothing more than my duty," said he, smiling.


"I hope you'll learn to know that a woman can really be grateful," she replied.

"I hope you'll learn to know that a woman can really be grateful."


Then she let go his hand and moved away to some other guest.

She let go his hand and moved away to some other guest.


There was a dash of true sincerity in what she had said.


Of enduring gratitude it may be doubtful whether she was capable: but at this moment she did feel that Mr. Broune had done much for her, and that she would willingly make him some return of friendship.

At that moment she did feel that she would willingly make Mr. Broune some return of friendship.


Of any feeling of another sort, of any turn at the moment towards flirtation, of any idea of encouragement to a gentleman who had once acted as though he were her lover, she was absolutely innocent.

Of any flirtation, she was absolutely innocent.


She had forgotten that little absurd episode in their joint lives.

She had forgotten that little absurd episode in their lives.


She was at any rate too much in earnest at the present moment to think about it.


He could not quite make up his mind whether the lady was or was not in love with him,--or whether, if she were, it was incumbent on him to indulge her;--and if so, in what manner.

He could not make up his mind whether the lady was in love with him - and if she were, whether he ought to indulge her; and if so, in what manner.


Then as he looked after her, he told himself that she was certainly very beautiful, that her figure was distinguished, that her income was certain, and her rank considerable.

She was certainly very beautiful, her figure was distinguished, her income certain, and her rank considerable.


Nevertheless, Mr. Broune knew of himself that he was not a marrying man.

Nevertheless, Mr. Broune knew that he was not a marrying man.


He had made up his mind that marriage would not suit his business, and he smiled to himself as he reflected how impossible it was that such a one as Lady Carbury should turn him from his resolution.

He had made up his mind that marriage would not suit his business, and Lady Carbury would not turn him from his resolution.


"I am so glad that you have come to-night, Mr. Alf," Lady Carbury said to the high-minded editor of the "Evening Pulpit."

"I am so glad that you have come tonight, Mr. Alf," Lady Carbury said to the high-minded editor of the Evening Pulpit.


"Am I not always glad to come, Lady Carbury?"


"That you might perhaps have felt that I should be unwilling to welcome you after,--well, after the compliments of last Thursday."

that you might perhaps have felt that I should be unwilling to welcome you after - well, after the compliments of last Thursday."


"I never allow the two things to join themselves together.


You see, Lady Carbury, I don't write all these things myself."

"Lady Carbury, I don't write all these things myself."


What a bitter creature you would be if you did."


"To tell the truth, I never write any of them.


Of course we endeavour to get people whose judgments we can trust, and if, as in this case, it should unfortunately happen that the judgment of our critic should be hostile to the literary pretensions of a personal friend of my own, I can only lament the accident, and trust that my friend may have spirit enough to divide me as an individual from that Mr. Alf who has the misfortune to edit a newspaper."

Of course we endeavour to get critics whose judgments we can trust, and if, as in this case, our critic's judgment is unfortunately hostile to a friend's book, I can only lament the accident, and trust that my friend may have spirit enough to divide me as an individual from Mr. Alf the editor."


"It is because you have so trusted me that I am obliged to you," said Lady Carbury with her sweetest smile.


She did not believe a word that Mr. Alf had said to her.

She did not believe a word that Mr. Alf said.


She thought, and thought rightly, that Mr. Alf's Mr. Jones had taken direct orders from his editor, as to his treatment of the "Criminal Queens."

She thought, and thought rightly, that Mr. Alf's critic had taken direct orders from his editor as to his treatment of the "Criminal Queens."


But she remembered that she intended to write another book, and that she might perhaps conquer even Mr. Alf by spirit and courage under her present infliction.

But she intended to write another book, and thought she might perhaps conquer even Mr. Alf by her courage.


It was Lady Carbury's duty on the occasion to say pretty things to everybody.

It was Lady Carbury's duty to say pretty things to everybody.


But in the midst of it all she was ever thinking of her son and Marie Melmotte, and she did at last venture to separate the girl from her mother.

But in the midst of it all she was thinking of her son and Marie Melmotte, and she did at last venture to separate the girl from her mother.


Marie herself was not unwilling to be talked to by Sir Felix.

Marie was not unwilling to be talked to by Sir Felix.


He had never bullied her, had never seemed to scorn her; and then he was so beautiful!


She, poor girl, bewildered among various suitors, utterly confused by the life to which she was introduced, troubled by fitful attacks of admonition from her father, who would again, fitfully, leave her unnoticed for a week at a time; with no trust in her pseudo-mother--for poor Marie had in truth been born before her father had been a married man, and had never known what was her own mother's fate,--with no enjoyment in her present life, had come solely to this conclusion, that it would be well for her to be taken away somewhere by somebody.

She, poor girl, bewildered by suitors, utterly confused by the life to which she was introduced, troubled by fitful admonitions from her father, who would leave her unnoticed for a week at a time; with no trust in her pseudo-mother - for poor Marie had in truth been born before her father had married, and had never known her own mother's fate - she had concluded that it would be well for her to be taken away somewhere by somebody.


Many a varied phase of life had already come in her way.


She could just remember the dirty street in the German portion of New York in which she had been born and had lived for the first four years of her life, and could remember too the poor, hardly-treated woman who had been her mother.

She could just remember the dirty street in the German portion of New York where she had lived for her first four years, and could remember too the poor woman who had been her mother.


She could remember being at sea, and her sickness,--but could not quite remember whether that woman had been with her.

She could remember being at sea, and her sickness, but could not quite remember whether that woman had been with her.


Then she had run about the streets of Hamburgh, and had sometimes been very hungry, sometimes in rags,--and she had a dim memory of some trouble into which her father had fallen, and that he was away from her for a time.

Then she had run about the streets of Hamburg, sometimes very hungry, sometimes in rags - and she had a dim memory that her father had fallen into some trouble, and was away for a time.


She had up to the present splendid moment her own convictions about that absence, but she had never mentioned them to a human being.


Then her father had married her present mother in Francfort.

Then her father had married her present mother in Frankfurt.


That she could remember distinctly, as also the rooms in which she was then taken to live, and the fact that she was told that from henceforth she was to be a Jewess.

She could remember that distinctly, and also the fact that she was told that from henceforth she was to be a Jewess.


They went from Francfort to Paris, and there they were all Christians.

they went to Paris, where they were all Christians.


From that time they had lived in various apartments in the French capital, but had always lived well.

They had lived in various apartments in the French capital,


Sometimes there had been a carriage, sometimes there had been none.

sometimes with a carriage, sometimes not.


And then there came a time in which she was grown woman enough to understand that her father was being much talked about.

She had realised that her father was being much talked about.


Her father to her had always been alternately capricious and indifferent rather than cross or cruel, but just at this period he was cruel both to her and to his wife.

He had always been capricious and indifferent rather than cruel, but at this period he was cruel both to her and to his wife.


And Madame Melmotte would weep at times and declare that they were all ruined.


Then, at a moment, they burst out into sudden splendour at Paris.


There was an hotel, with carriages and horses almost unnumbered;--and then there came to their rooms a crowd of dark, swarthy, greasy men, who were entertained sumptuously; but there were few women.

There was a hotel, with carriages and horses, and a crowd of dark, greasy men, who were entertained sumptuously in their rooms; but few women.


At this time Marie was hardly nineteen, and young enough in manner and appearance to be taken for seventeen.


Suddenly again she was told that she was to be taken to London, and the migration had been effected with magnificence.

Suddenly again she was told that she was to be taken to London; and


She was first taken to Brighton, where the half of an hotel had been hired, and had then been brought to Grosvenor Square, and at once thrown into the matrimonial market.

she had been brought to Grosvenor Square, and at once thrown into the matrimonial market.


No part of her life had been more disagreeable to her, more frightful, than the first months in which she had been trafficked for by the Nidderdales and Grassloughs.

No part of her life had been more disagreeable, more frightful, than the first months in which she had been trafficked for by the Nidderdales and Grassloughs.


She had been too frightened, too much of a coward to object to anything proposed to her, but still had been conscious of a desire to have some hand in her own future destiny.

She had been too frightened to object, but still had wished to have some hand in her own future destiny.


Luckily for her, the first attempts at trafficking with the Nidderdales and Grassloughs had come to nothing; and at length she was picking up a little courage, and was beginning to feel that it might be possible to prevent a disposition of herself which did not suit her own tastes.

Luckily for her, the first attempts at trafficking with the Nidderdales and Grassloughs had come to nothing; and she was picking up a little courage, and was beginning to feel that it might be possible to prevent an alliance which she did not like.


She was also beginning to think that there might be a disposition of herself which would suit her own tastes.

She was also beginning to think that there might be one which would suit her own tastes.


Felix Carbury was standing leaning against a wall, and she was seated on a chair close to him.

Felix Carbury was leaning against a wall, and she was seated on a chair close to him.


"I love you better than anyone in the world," he said, speaking plainly enough for her to hear, perhaps indifferent as to the hearing of others.

"I love you better than anyone in the world," he said.


"Oh, Sir Felix, pray do not talk like that."


Now I want you to say whether you will be my wife."


"You may if you like," she replied in a very low whisper.


It was thus that the greatest heiress of the day, the greatest heiress of any day if people spoke truly, gave herself away to a man without a penny.

It was thus that the greatest heiress of the day gave herself away to a man without a penny.


That evening Montague was surprised to receive at the Beargarden a note from Mr. Melmotte, which had been brought thither by a messenger from the city,--who had expected to have an immediate answer, as though Montague lived at the club.

That evening Montague was surprised to receive at the Beargarden this note from Mr. Melmotte.

Chapter 40: "Unanimity is the very Soul of these Things"


If not inconvenient would you call on me in Grosvenor Square to-morrow, Sunday, at half past eleven.

If convenient would you call on me in Grosvenor Square tomorrow, Sunday, at half past eleven.


If you are going to church, perhaps you will make an appointment in the afternoon; if not, the morning will suit best.


I want to have a few words with you in private about the Company.


My messenger will wait for answer if you are at the club.

My messenger will wait for an answer if you are at the club.


Paul immediately wrote to say that he would call at Grosvenor Square at the hour appointed,--abandoning any intentions which he might have had in reference to Sunday morning service.

Paul immediately wrote to say that he would call at Grosvenor Square at the hour appointed.


But this was not the only letter he received that evening.


On his return to his lodgings he found a note, containing only one line, which Mrs. Hurtle had found the means of sending to him after her return from Southend.

On his return to his lodgings he found a brief note, which Mrs. Hurtle had sent him after her return from Southend.


W. H." The period of the reprieve was thus curtailed to less than a day.

W. H." His reprieve was thus curtailed to less than a day.


On the Sunday morning he breakfasted late and then walked up to Grosvenor Square, much pondering what the great man could have to say to him.

On the Sunday morning he walked up to Grosvenor Square, pondering what the great man could have to say to him.


The great man had declared himself very plainly in the Board-room,--especially plainly after the Board had risen.


Paul had understood that war was declared, and had understood also that he was to fight the battle single-handed, knowing nothing of such strategy as would be required, while his antagonist was a great master of financial tactics.

Paul had understood that war was declared, and that his antagonist was a master of financial tactics.


He was prepared to go to the wall in reference to his money, only hoping that in doing so he might save his character and keep the reputation of an honest man.

He was prepared to lose his money, if in doing so he might save his character and reputation.


He was quite resolved to be guided altogether by Mr. Ramsbottom, and intended to ask Mr. Ramsbottom to draw up for him such a statement as would be fitting for him to publish.

He intended to ask Mr. Ramsbottom to draw up for him a fitting statement.


But it was manifest now that Mr. Melmotte would make some proposition, and it was impossible that he should have Mr. Ramsbottom at his elbow to help him.

But it now appeared that Mr. Melmotte would make some proposition, when there was no Mr. Ramsbottom at his elbow to help him.


He had been in Melmotte's house on the night of the ball, but had contented himself after that with leaving a card.


He had heard much of the splendour of the place, but remembered simply the crush and the crowd, and that he had danced there more than once or twice with Hetta Carbury.

remembered only the crush and the crowd, and that he had danced with Hetta Carbury.


When he was shown into the hall he was astonished to find that it was not only stripped, but was full of planks, and ladders, and trussels, and mortar.

When he was shown into the hall he was astonished to find that it was stripped, and full of planks, ladders and mortar.


The preparations for the great dinner had been already commenced.

The preparations for the great dinner had already commenced.


Through all this he made his way to the stairs, and was taken up to a small room on the second floor, where the servant told him that Mr. Melmotte would come to him.

He was taken up to a small room on the second floor, where the servant told him that Mr. Melmotte would come to him.


Here he waited a quarter of an hour looking out into the yard at the back.

He waited a quarter of an hour looking out into the yard.


There was not a book in the room, or even a picture with which he could amuse himself.

There was not a book in the room with which he could amuse himself.


He was beginning to think whether his own personal dignity would not be best consulted by taking his departure, when Melmotte himself, with slippers on his feet and enveloped in a magnificent dressing-gown, bustled into the room.

He was beginning to wonder whether he should leave, when Melmotte, in a magnificent dressing-gown and slippers, bustled in.


Brehgert,--from the house of Todd, Brehgert, and Goldsheiner, you know,--has just been with me.


We had to settle something about the Moldavian loan.


He came a quarter late, and of course he went a quarter late.

, and he came a quarter of an hour late."


And how is a man to catch a quarter of an hour?


Montague assured the great man that the delay was of no consequence.

Montague assured him that the delay was of no consequence.


"And I am so sorry to ask you into such a place as this.


I had Brehgert in my room down-stairs, and then the house is so knocked about!


We get into a furnished house a little way off in Bruton Street to-morrow.

We move into a furnished house in Bruton Street tomorrow -


Longestaffe lets me his house for a month till this affair of the dinner is over.

Longstaffe is letting me his house for a month till this dinner is over.


By-the-bye, Montague, if you'd like to come to the dinner, I've got a ticket I can let you have.

By-the-bye, Montague, if you'd like to come to the dinner, I've got a ticket for you.


Montague had heard of the dinner, but had perhaps heard as little of it as any man frequenting a club at the west end of London.


He did not in the least want to be at the dinner, and certainly did not wish to receive any extraordinary civility from Mr. Melmotte's hands.

did not in the least want to attend the dinner.


But he was very anxious to know why Mr. Melmotte should offer it.


He excused himself saying that he was not particularly fond of big dinners, and that he did not like standing in the way of other people.

He excused himself, saying that he was not fond of big dinners.


"There are ever so many people of title would give anything for a ticket.

"Ever so many people would give anything for a ticket.


You'd be astonished at the persons who have asked.


We've had to squeeze in a chair on one side for the Master of the Buckhounds, and on another for the Bishop of--; I forget what bishop it is, but we had the two archbishops before.


They say he must come because he has something to do with getting up the missionaries for Thibet.


But I've got the ticket, if you'll have it."


This was the ticket which was to have taken in Georgiana Longestaffe as one of the Melmotte family, had not Melmotte perceived that it might be useful to him as a bribe.


"You're the only man in London then," said Melmotte, somewhat offended.


"But at any rate you'll come in the evening, and I'll have one of Madame Melmotte's tickets sent to you."

"At any rate you'll come in the evening, and I'll have one of Madame Melmotte's tickets sent to you."


Paul, not knowing how to escape, said that he would come in the evening.


"I am particularly anxious," continued he, "to be civil to those who are connected with our great Railway, and of course, in this country, your name stands first,--next to my own."

"I am particularly anxious," continued Melmotte, "to be civil to those who are connected with our great Railway, and of course, in this country, your name stands next to my own."


Then the great man paused, and Paul began to wonder whether it could be possible that he had been sent for to Grosvenor Square on a Sunday morning in order that he might be asked to dine in the same house a fortnight later.


"Have you anything special to say about the Railway?"


It is so hard to get things said at the Board.


Of course there are some there who do not understand matters."


"I doubt if there be any one there who does understand this matter," said Paul.

"I doubt if there is anyone there who does understand this matter," said Paul.


"Well, well; I am not prepared to go quite so far as that.

"Well, well; I would not go quite so far as that.


My friend Cohenlupe has had great experience in these affairs, and of course you are aware that he is in Parliament.


And Lord Alfred sees farther into them than perhaps you give him credit for."

and Lord Alfred sees farther into them than perhaps you give him credit for."


"Perhaps you don't know him quite as well as I do."


The scowl began to appear on Mr. Melmotte's brow.


Hitherto it had been banished as well as he knew how to banish it.


We didn't quite agree at the last meeting."


Unanimity is everything in the direction of such an undertaking as this.

Unanimity is everything in such an undertaking as this.


Mr. Melmotte in the ecstasy of his enthusiasm lifted up both his hands over his head.

Mr. Melmotte in his enthusiasm lifted both his hands over his head.


"Without unanimity we can do - nothing."


"Unanimity should be printed everywhere about a Board-room.


"But suppose the directors are not unanimous."


You don't want to see the thing fall to pieces!"


If you and I quarrel in that Board-room, there is no knowing the amount of evil we may do to every individual shareholder in the Company.

If you and I quarrel in that Board-room, there is no knowing the evil we may do to every shareholder in the Company.


I find the responsibility on my own shoulders so great that I say the thing must be stopped.

I find the responsibility so great that I say the thing must be stopped.


Damme, Mr. Montague, it must be stopped.


We mustn't ruin widows and children, Mr. Montague.


We mustn't let those shares run down 20 below par for a mere chimera.

by letting those shares run down for a mere fancy.


I've known a fine property blasted, Mr. Montague, sent straight to the dogs,--annihilated, sir;--so that it all vanished into thin air, and widows and children past counting were sent out to starve about the streets,--just because one director sat in another director's chair.

I've known a fine property blasted, Mr. Montague, annihilated, sir; so that widows and children past counting were sent out to starve in the streets, just because one director sat in another director's chair, by G__!


What do you think of that, Mr. Montague?


Gentlemen who don't know the nature of credit, how strong it is,--as the air,--to buoy you up; how slight it is,--as a mere vapour,--when roughly touched, can do an amount of mischief of which they themselves don't in the least understand the extent!


Melmotte's description of the peculiar susceptibility of great mercantile speculations had not been given without some effect on Montague, but this direct appeal to himself almost drove that effect out of his mind.


"But you should know what justice is before you demand it at the expense of other people.


I suppose you are like the rest of us, in this matter.


"For myself, I want interest for my capital; that is all.

"I want interest for my capital; that is all.


If I understand the matter,"--and here Melmotte pulled out a little book, showing thereby how careful he was in mastering details,--"you had about 6,000 embarked in the business when Fisker joined your firm.

Here Melmotte pulled out a little book. "You had about 6,000 embarked in the business when Fisker joined your firm.


You imagine yourself to have that still."


You have that, and you've drawn nearly a thousand pounds since Fisker came over, in one shape or another.

You still have that, and you've drawn nearly a thousand pounds since Fisker came over.


I am most anxious that you should remain with us.


I was about to propose, only for that little rumpus the other day, that, as you're an unmarried man, and have time on your hands, you should go out to California and probably across to Mexico, in order to get necessary information for the Company.

I was about to propose, but for that little rumpus the other day, that you should go out to California and across to Mexico, to get necessary information for the Company.


Were I of your age, unmarried, and without impediment, it is just the thing I should like.


Of course you'd go at the Company's expense.


I would see to your own personal interests while you were away;--or you could appoint any one by power of attorney.


Your seat at the Board would be kept for you; but, should anything occur amiss,--which it won't, for the thing is as sound as anything I know,--of course you, as absent, would not share the responsibility.

Your seat at the Board would be kept for you.


It would be a delightful trip;--but if you don't like it, you can of course remain at the Board, and be of the greatest use to me.

It would be a delightful trip; but if you don't like it, you can of course remain at the Board, and be of the greatest use to me.


Indeed, after a bit I could devolve nearly the whole management on you;--and I must do something of the kind, as I really haven't the time for it.

Indeed, after a bit I could devolve nearly the whole management on you; and I must do something of the kind, as I really haven't the time for it.


But,--if it is to be that way,--do be unanimous.


Unanimity is the very soul of these things;--the very soul, Mr. Montague."

Unanimity is the very soul of these things, Mr. Montague."


"Well;--if you can't, and if you won't take my advice about going out;--which, pray, think about, for you would be most useful.

"Well; if you can't, and if you won't take my advice about going out; which, pray, think about, for you would be most useful


It might be the very making of the railway;--then I can only suggest that you should take your 6,000 and leave us.

- then I can only suggest that you should take your 6,000 and leave us.


I, myself, should be greatly distressed; but if you are determined that way I will see that you have your money.

I, myself, should be greatly distressed; but if you are determined I will see that you have your money


I will make myself personally responsible for the payment of it,--some time before the end of the year."


Paul Montague told the great man that he would consider the whole matter, and see him in Abchurch Lane before the next Board day.

Paul Montague told the great man that he would consider the matter, and see him in Abchurch Lane before the next Board day.


"And now, good-bye," said Mr. Melmotte, as he bade his young friend adieu in a hurry.


"I'm afraid that I'm keeping Sir Gregory Gribe, the Bank Director, waiting down-stairs."

"I'm afraid that I'm keeping Sir Gregory Gribe, the Bank Director, waiting downstairs."


Melmotte had got back his daughter, and was half inclined to let the matter rest there.


He would probably have done so had he not known that all his own household were aware that she had gone off to meet Sir Felix Carbury, and had he not also received the condolence of certain friends in the city.

He would probably have done so had it not become widely known that she had gone off to meet Sir Felix Carbury.


It seemed that about two o'clock in the day the matter was known to everybody.


Of course Lord Nidderdale would hear of it, and if so all the trouble that he had taken in that direction would have been taken in vain.

Of course Lord Nidderdale would hear of it, and all the trouble that he had taken in that direction would be in vain.


Stupid fool of a girl to throw away her chance,--nay, to throw away the certainty of a brilliant career, in that way!

Stupid fool of a girl to throw away her chance in that way!


But his anger against Sir Felix was infinitely more bitter than his anger against his daughter.


The man had pledged himself to abstain from any step of this kind,--had given a written pledge,--had renounced under his own signature his intention of marrying Marie!

The man had given a written pledge not to marry Marie!


Melmotte had of course learned all the details of the cheque for 250,--how the money had been paid at the bank to Didon, and how Didon had given it to Sir Felix.

Melmotte had of course learned all the details of the cheque for 250.


Marie herself acknowledged that Sir Felix had received the money.

Marie acknowledged that Sir Felix had received the money.


If possible he would prosecute the baronet for stealing his money.

If possible he would prosecute the baronet for theft.


Had Melmotte been altogether a prudent man he would probably have been satisfied with getting back his daughter and would have allowed the money to go without further trouble.

Had Melmotte been prudent he would have allowed the money to go without further trouble.


At this especial point in his career ready money was very valuable to him, but his concerns were of such magnitude that 250 could make but little difference.

Although at this point ready money was very valuable to him, his concerns were of such magnitude that 250 could make little difference.


But there had grown upon the man during the last few months an arrogance, a self-confidence inspired in him by the worship of other men, which clouded his intellect, and robbed him of much of that power of calculation which undoubtedly he naturally possessed.

But during the last few months there had grown in him an arrogance, a self-confidence inspired by the worship of other men, which clouded his intellect.


He remembered perfectly his various little transactions with Sir Felix.


Indeed it was one of his gifts to remember with accuracy all money transactions, whether great or small, and to keep an account book in his head, which was always totted up and balanced with accuracy.

Indeed it was one of his gifts to remember accurately all money transactions.


He knew exactly how he stood, even with the crossing-sweeper to whom he had given a penny last Tuesday, as with the Longestaffes, father and son, to whom he had not as yet made any payment on behalf of the purchase of Pickering.


But Sir Felix's money had been consigned into his hands for the purchase of shares,--and that consignment did not justify Sir Felix in taking another sum of money from his daughter.

But Sir Felix's money had been handed to him for the purchase of shares, and did not justify Sir Felix in taking money from his daughter.


In such a matter he thought that an English magistrate, and an English jury, would all be on his side,--especially as he was Augustus Melmotte, the man about to be chosen for Westminster, the man about to entertain the Emperor of China!

He thought that an English magistrate would be on his side - especially as he was Augustus Melmotte, the man about to be chosen for Westminster, the man about to entertain the Emperor of China!


The next day was Friday,--the day of the Railway Board.


Early in the morning he sent a note to Lord Nidderdale.


Pray come to the Board to-day;--or at any rate come to me in the city.

asking him to come to the Railway Board.


This he wrote, having made up his mind that it would be wise to make a clear breast of it with his hoped-for son-in-law.

He thought that it would be wise to make a clean breast of it with his hoped-for son-in-law.


If there was still a chance of keeping the young lord to his guns that chance would be best supported by perfect openness on his part.


The young lord would of course know what Marie had done.


But the young lord had for some weeks past been aware that there had been a difficulty in regard to Sir Felix Carbury, and had not on that account relaxed his suit.

But Nidderdale had already known that there was a difficulty in regard to Sir Felix Carbury, yet had not given up his suit.


It might be possible to persuade the young lord that as the young lady had now tried to elope and tried in vain, his own chance might on the whole be rather improved than injured.

It might be possible to persuade him that his own chances might now be improved rather than injured.


Mr. Melmotte on that morning had many visitors, among whom one of the earliest and most unfortunate was Mr. Longestaffe.

Mr. Melmotte on that morning had many visitors, amongst them Mr. Longestaffe.


At that time there had been arranged at the offices in Abchurch Lane a mode of double ingress and egress,--a front stairs and a back stairs approach and exit, as is always necessary with very great men,--in reference to which arrangement the honour and dignity attached to each is exactly contrary to that which generally prevails in the world; the front stairs being intended for everybody, and being both slow and uncertain, whereas the back stairs are quick and sure, and are used only for those who are favoured.

His offices in Abchurch Lane had a front stairs and a back stairs; the front stairs being intended for everybody, whereas the back stairs were only for those who were favoured.


Miles Grendall had the command of the stairs, and found that he had plenty to do in keeping people in their right courses.


Mr. Longestaffe reached Abchurch Lane before one,--having altogether failed in getting a moment's private conversation with the big man on that other Friday, when he had come later.

when Mr. Longestaffe reached Abchurch Lane, he fell at once into Miles's hands.


He fell at once into Miles's hands, and was ushered through the front stairs passage and into the front stairs waiting-room, with much external courtesy.

Miles ushered him through the front stairs passage and into the waiting-room, with much courtesy.


Did Mr. Longestaffe want to see Mr. Melmotte?


Oh;--Mr. Longestaffe wanted to see Mr. Melmotte as soon as possible!

Of course Mr. Longestaffe should see Mr. Melmotte as soon as possible.


Of course Mr. Longestaffe should see Mr. Melmotte.


He, Miles, knew that Mr. Melmotte was particularly desirous of seeing Mr. Longestaffe.


Mr. Melmotte had mentioned Mr. Longestaffe's name twice during the last three days.


Would Mr. Longestaffe sit down for a few minutes?


Had Mr. Longestaffe seen the "Morning Breakfast Table"?


Mr. Melmotte undoubtedly was very much engaged.


At this moment a deputation from the Canadian Government was with him;--and Sir Gregory Gribe was in the office waiting for a few words.


But Miles thought that the Canadian Government would not be long,--and as for Sir Gregory, perhaps his business might be postponed.

but Miles thought that they would not be long.


Miles would do his very best to get an interview for Mr. Longestaffe,--more especially as Mr. Melmotte was so very desirous himself of seeing his friend.

Miles would do his very best to get an interview for Mr. Longestaffe.


It was astonishing that such a one as Miles Grendall should have learned his business so well and should have made himself so handy!


We will leave Mr. Longestaffe with the "Morning Breakfast Table" in his hands, in the front waiting-room, merely notifying the fact that there he remained for something over two hours.

We will leave Mr. Longestaffe in the front waiting-room, merely noting that he remained there for over two hours.


In the mean time both Mr. Broune and Lord Nidderdale came to the office, and both were received without delay.

In the meantime both Mr. Broune and Lord Nidderdale came to the office, and were received without delay.


Miles knew who he was, and made no attempt to seat him in the same room with Mr. Longestaffe.


"I'll just send him a note," said Mr. Broune, and he scrawled a few words at the office counter.


"I'm commissioned to pay you some money on behalf of Miss Melmotte."

"I'm commissioned to pay some money on behalf of Miss Melmotte


Those were the words, and they at once procured him admission to the sanctum.

," said Mr. Broune - words which at once procured him admission to the sanctum.


The Canadian Deputation must have taken its leave, and Sir Gregory could hardly have as yet arrived.

The Canadian Deputation must have taken its leave.


Lord Nidderdale, who had presented himself almost at the same moment with the Editor, was shown into a little private room,--which was, indeed, Miles Grendall's own retreat.

Lord Nidderdale, who had arrived almost at the same moment, was shown into a little private room.


"There are always so many things up here."


There's that fellow who does the 'Breakfast Table' in with him.


Lord Nidderdale answered this question by another.


"I suppose all this about Miss Melmotte is true?"


asked Nidderdale.
"She did go off yesterday morning," said Miles, in a whisper.


He's such a d---- brute, he'd be sure to go wrong whatever he had in hand."


For that matter I've no reason to love him.


He staggered out of the club yesterday morning at four o'clock as drunk as Cloe.

He staggered out of the club yesterday morning at four o'clock, drunk.


He'd lost a pot of money, and had been kicking up a row about you for the last hour."

He'd lost a pot of money, and had been kicking up a row about you."


exclaimed Miles, with honest indignation.


But though he was able to make a row, I'm sure he couldn't get himself down to Liverpool.

But I'm sure he couldn't get himself down to Liverpool.


And I saw all his things lying about the club hall late last night;--no end of portmanteaux and bags; just what a fellow would take to New York.

And I saw all his things lying about the club hall late last night.


"It was all her doing," said Miles, who was of course intimate with Mr. Melmotte's whole establishment, and had had means therefore of hearing the true story.


said the young lord, "I wonder what the old boy means to say to me about it."

said the young lord. "I wonder what the old boy means to say to me about it."


Then there was heard the clear tingle of a little silver bell, and Miles told Lord Nidderdale that his time had come.


Mr. Broune had of late been very serviceable to Mr. Melmotte, and Melmotte was correspondingly gracious.

Melmotte had been very gracious to Mr. Broune,


On seeing the Editor he immediately began to make a speech of thanks in respect of the support given by the "Breakfast Table" to his candidature.

on account of the support given by the Breakfast Table to his candidature.


But Mr. Broune cut short his speech of thanks.


"I never talk about the 'Breakfast Table,'" said he.

"I never talk about the Breakfast Table," said he.


"We endeavour to get along as right as we can, and the less said the soonest mended."


"I have come now about quite another matter, and perhaps, the less said the sooner mended about that also.

"I have come about quite another matter.


Sir Felix Carbury on a late occasion received a sum of money in trust from your daughter.

Sir Felix Carbury lately received a sum of money in trust from your daughter


Circumstances have prevented its use in the intended manner, and, therefore, as Sir Felix's friend, I have called to return the money to you."

, and as Sir Felix's friend, I have called to return it to you."


Mr. Broune did not like calling himself the friend of Sir Felix, but he did even that for the lady who had been good enough to him not to marry him.

Mr. Broune did not like calling himself the friend of Sir Felix, but he did even that for the lady who had been good enough not to marry him.


"Oh, indeed," said Mr. Melmotte, with a scowl on his face, which he would have repressed if he could.

"Oh, indeed," said Mr. Melmotte, with a scowl.


I've drawn a cheque myself, payable to your order,--to make the matter all straight.


And Mr. Broune put a cheque for that amount down upon the table.

And Mr. Broune put a cheque for that amount upon the table.


"I dare say it's all right," said Mr. Melmotte.


"But, remember, I don't think that this absolves him.


"At any rate he has paid back the money, which chance put into his hands, to the only person entitled to receive it on the young lady's behalf.


Mr. Melmotte did put out his hand in token of amity.


Then Mr. Broune departed and Melmotte tinkled his bell.

They shook hands; then Mr. Broune departed and Melmotte tinkled his bell.


As Nidderdale was shown in he crumpled up the cheque, and put it into his pocket.

As Nidderdale was shown in he put the cheque into his pocket,


He was at once clever enough to perceive that any idea which he might have had of prosecuting Sir Felix must be abandoned.

abandoning any idea of prosecuting Sir Felix.


Nidderdale declared himself to be as fresh as paint.


"You don't look down in the mouth, my Lord."


Then Lord Nidderdale,--who no doubt felt that it behoved him to show a good face before his late intended father-in-law,--sang the refrain of an old song, which it is trusted my readers may remember.

and - to show a good face before his late intended father-in-law - sang the refrain of an old song:


"Cheer up, Sam; Don't let your spirits go down.


There's many a girl that I know well, Is waiting for you in the town."


"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Melmotte, "very good.


But you won't let this stupid nonsense stand in your way with Marie."


"Upon my word, sir, I don't know about that.


Miss Melmotte has given the most convincing proof of her partiality for another gentleman, and of her indifference to me."

Miss Melmotte has given convincing proof of her partiality for another gentleman, and of her indifference to me."


She's been reading novels till she has learned to think she couldn't settle down quietly till she had run off with somebody."

She's been reading novels till she has learned to think she had to run off with somebody."


"She doesn't seem to have succeeded on this occasion, Mr. Melmotte."


"No;--of course we had her back again from Liverpool."

"No; of course we had her back again from Liverpool."


"But they say that she got further than the gentleman."


You know that I've been on the square with you always.

You know that I've been square with you always.


She's my only child, and sooner or later she must have all that I possess.


What she will have at once will make any man wealthy,--that is, if she marries with my sanction; and in a year or two I expect that I shall be able to double what I give her now, without touching my capital.

In a year or two I expect that I shall be able to double what I give her now, without touching my capital.


Of course you understand that I desire to see her occupying high rank.


I think that, in this country, that is a noble object of ambition.


Had she married that sweep I should have broken my heart.


Now, my Lord, I want you to say that this shall make no difference to you.

Now, my Lord, I hope this shall make no difference to you.


The thing of course has been a misfortune.


But you may be sure that this little accident will assist rather than impede your views.


After this she will not be very fond of Sir Felix Carbury."

But after this she will not be very fond of Sir Felix Carbury."


Though, by Jove, girls will forgive anything."


You'll come and see her just the same as ever!"


"I don't know about that, Mr. Melmotte."


You're not so weak as to surrender all your settled projects for such a piece of folly as that!


"The money will all be there, Lord Nidderdale."


And there isn't a man in all London would be better pleased to settle down with a good income than I would.


But, by Jove, it's a rather strong order when a girl has just run away with another man.


"In three months' time everybody will have forgotten it."

"In three months everybody will have forgotten it."


"To tell you the truth, sir, I think Miss Melmotte has got a will of her own stronger than you give her credit for.


She has never given me the slightest encouragement."


Ever so long ago, about Christmas, she did once say that she would do as you bade her.


But she is very much changed since then.


"No;--but she has taken advantage of it, and I have no right to complain."


"You just come to the house, and ask her again to-morrow.


Don't let us be done out of all our settled arrangements by the folly of an idle girl.


Will you come on Sunday morning about noon?"


Lord Nidderdale thought of his position for a few moments and then said that perhaps he would come on Sunday morning.

Lord Nidderdale thought for a few moments and then said that perhaps he would come on Sunday morning.


After that Melmotte proposed that they two should go and "get a bit of lunch" at a certain Conservative club in the City.

After that Melmotte proposed that they should go and have lunch at a Conservative club


There would be time before the meeting of the Railway Board.

, before the meeting of the Railway Board.


Nidderdale had no objection to the lunch, but expressed a strong opinion that the Board was "rot."


"That's all very well for you, young man," said the chairman, "but I must go there in order that you may be able to enjoy a splendid fortune."

"That's all very well for you, young man," said the chairman, "but I must go there in order that you may enjoy a splendid fortune.


Then he touched the young man on the shoulder and drew him back as he was passing out by the front stairs.


"Come this way, Nidderdale;--come this way.


There are people waiting for me there who think that a man can attend to business from morning to night without ever having a bit in his mouth."

there are people waiting for me there who think that a man can attend to business from morning to night without ever having to eat."


At the club, the City Conservative world,--which always lunches well,--welcomed Mr. Melmotte very warmly.

At the club, Mr. Melmotte was warmly welcomed.


The election was coming on, and there was much to be said.


He played the part of the big City man to perfection, standing about the room with his hat on, and talking loudly to a dozen men at once.

He played the part of the big City man to perfection, talking loudly to a dozen men at once.


And he was glad to show the club that Lord Nidderdale had come there with him.

He was glad to show the club that Lord Nidderdale had come there with him.


The club of course knew that Lord Nidderdale was the accepted suitor of the rich man's daughter,--accepted, that is, by the rich man himself,--and the club knew also that the rich man's daughter had tried,--but had failed,--to run away with Sir Felix Carbury.

The club of course knew that Melmotte's daughter had tried to run away with Sir Felix Carbury; and Lord Nidderdale's


There is nothing like wiping out a misfortune and having done with it.


The presence of Lord Nidderdale was almost an assurance to the club that the misfortune had been wiped out, and, as it were, abolished.

presence was an assurance that the misfortune had been wiped out.


A little before three Mr. Melmotte returned to Abchurch Lane, intending to regain his room by the back way; while Lord Nidderdale went westward, considering within his own mind whether it was expedient that he should continue to show himself as a suitor for Miss Melmotte's hand.

A little before three Mr. Melmotte returned to Abchurch Lane, intending to regain his room by the back way; while Lord Nidderdale went westward, considering whether he should continue to be a suitor for Miss Melmotte's hand.


He had an idea that a few years ago a man could not have done such a thing--that he would be held to show a poor spirit should he attempt it; but that now it did not much matter what a man did,--if only he were successful.


"After all it's only an affair of money," he said to himself.


Mr. Longestaffe in the meantime had progressed from weariness to impatience, from impatience to ill-humour, and from ill-humour to indignation.


More than once he saw Miles Grendall, but Miles Grendall was always ready with an answer.


That Canadian Deputation was determined to settle the whole business this morning, and would not take itself away.

informed him that the Canadian Deputation would not take itself away.


And Sir Gregory Gribe had been obstinate, beyond the ordinary obstinacy of a bank director.


The rate of discount at the bank could not be settled for to-morrow without communication with Mr. Melmotte, and that was a matter on which the details were always most oppressive.


At first Mr. Longestaffe was somewhat stunned by the Deputation and Sir Gregory Gribe; but as he waxed wroth the potency of those institutions dwindled away, and as, at last, he waxed hungry, they became as nothing to him.


Was he not Mr. Longestaffe of Caversham, a Deputy-Lieutenant of his County, and accustomed to lunch punctually at two o'clock?

Mr. Longstaffe was accustomed to lunch punctually at two o'clock; and


When he had been in that waiting-room for two hours, it occurred to him that he only wanted his own, and that he would not remain there to be starved for any Mr. Melmotte in Europe.

he would not be starved for any Melmotte in Europe.


It occurred to him also that that thorn in his side, Squercum, would certainly get a finger into the pie to his infinite annoyance.


Then he walked forth, and attempted to see Grendall for the fourth time.

He attempted to see Grendall for the fourth time.


But Miles Grendall also liked his lunch, and was therefore declared by one of the junior clerks to be engaged at that moment on most important business with Mr. Melmotte.

But Miles Grendall also liked his lunch, and was therefore declared by one of the junior clerks to be on most important business with Mr. Melmotte.


"Then say that I can't wait any longer," said Mr. Longestaffe, stamping out of the room with angry feet.

"Then say that I can't wait any longer," said Mr. Longestaffe, stamping out angrily.


"Ah, Mr. Longestaffe," said the great financier, seizing him by the hand, "you are the very man I am desirous of seeing."

"Ah, Mr. Longestaffe," said the great financier, seizing him by the hand, "you are the very man I wanted to see."


"I have been waiting two hours up in your place," said the Squire of Caversham.

"I have been waiting two hours," said the Squire of Caversham.


"Tut, tut, tut;--and they never told me!"


"I spoke to Mr. Grendall half a dozen times."


And he did put a slip with your name on it on my desk.


My dear sir, I have so many things on my brain, that I hardly know how to get along with them.


It was cruel that a man so hungry should be asked to go to a Board by a chairman who had just lunched at his club.


"I was carried away to the Bank of England and could not help myself," said Melmotte.


"And when they get me there I can never get away again."


"My son is very anxious to have the payments made about Pickering," said Mr. Longestaffe, absolutely holding Melmotte by the collar of his coat.

My son is very anxious to have the payments made about Pickering."


said Melmotte, assuming an air of unimportant doubt,--of doubt as though the thing were of no real moment.

said Melmotte, assuming an air of absent-minded doubt.


"Certainly not," said Mr. Longestaffe, "unless made this morning."


"There was something about it, but I cannot just remember what.


My second cashier, Mr. Smith, manages all my private affairs, and they go clean out of my head.


I'm afraid he's in Grosvenor Square at this moment.


Wasn't there some question of a mortgage?"


I'm sure there was something about a mortgage."


"There was a mortgage, of course;--but that only made three payments necessary instead of two."

"Of course there was a mortgage; that made three payments necessary instead of two."


"But there was some unavoidable delay about the papers;--something occasioned by the mortgagee.

"But there was some unavoidable delay about the papers; something occasioned by the mortgagee.


But you shan't be inconvenienced, Mr. Longestaffe."


"I never knew a young man that wasn't in a hurry for his money," said Melmotte laughing.

"I never knew a young man that wasn't in a hurry for his money," said Melmotte, laughing.


"Oh, yes;--there were three payments to be made; one to you, one to your son, and one to the mortgagee.

"Oh, yes; there were three payments to be made; one to you, one to your son, and one to the mortgagee.


I will speak to Mr. Smith myself to-morrow--and you may tell your son that he really need not trouble his lawyer.

I will speak to Mr. Smith tomorrow - and tell your son that he really need not trouble his lawyer.


He will only be losing his money, for lawyers are expensive.


Mr. Longestaffe, having after a fashion said what he had to say, declined to go to the Board.


A painful rumour had reached him the day before, which had been communicated to him in a very quiet way by a very old friend,--by a member of a private firm of bankers whom he was accustomed to regard as the wisest and most eminent man of his acquaintance,--that Pickering had been already mortgaged to its full value by its new owner.

A painful rumour had reached him the day before, quietly communicated by a very old friend, a member of a private firm of bankers - that Pickering had been already mortgaged to its full value by its new owner.


"Mind, I know nothing," said the banker.


"The report has reached me, and if it be true, it shows that Mr. Melmotte must be much pressed for money.

"It shows that Mr. Melmotte must be much pressed for money.


It does not concern you at all if you have got your price.


But it seems to be rather a quick transaction.


I suppose you have, or he wouldn't have the title-deeds."


Mr. Longestaffe thanked his friend, and acknowledged that there had been something remiss on his part.


Therefore, as he went westward, he was low in spirits.


But nevertheless he had been reassured by Melmotte's manner.


Sir Felix Carbury of course did not attend the Board; nor did Paul Montague, for reasons with which the reader has been made acquainted.

Sir Felix Carbury of course did not attend the Board; nor did Paul Montague.


Lord Nidderdale had declined, having had enough of the City for that day, and Mr. Longestaffe had been banished by hunger.

Lord Nidderdale had had enough of the City for that day, and Mr. Longestaffe had been banished by hunger.


The chairman was therefore supported only by Lord Alfred and Mr. Cohenlupe.


But they were such excellent colleagues that the work was got through as well as though those absentees had all attended.

But the work was got through as well as if those absentees had all attended


When the Board was over Mr. Melmotte and Mr. Cohenlupe retired together.

, and then Mr. Melmotte and Mr. Cohenlupe retired together.


"I must get that money for Longestaffe," said Melmotte to his friend.


You can't do it this week,--nor yet before this day week."


I've renewed the mortgage, and that makes it only fifty.


If I can manage the half of that which goes to the son, I can put the father off."

If I can manage half of the son's money, I can put the father off."


"You must raise what you can on the whole property."


"I've done that already," said Melmotte hoarsely.


You can manage 25,000 for me by Monday?"


Mr. Cohenlupe said that he would try, but intimated his opinion that there would be considerable difficulty in the operation.

Mr. Cohenlupe said that he would try, but that it would be very difficult.


The very greatness of Mr. Melmotte's popularity, the extent of the admiration which was accorded by the public at large to his commercial enterprise and financial sagacity, created a peculiar bitterness in the opposition that was organised against him at Westminster.

The very greatness of Mr. Melmotte's popularity created bitter opposition against him at Westminster.


As the high mountains are intersected by deep valleys, as puritanism in one age begets infidelity in the next, as in many countries the thickness of the winter's ice will be in proportion to the number of the summer musquitoes, so was the keenness of the hostility displayed on this occasion in proportion to the warmth of the support which was manifested.


As the great man was praised, so also was he abused.


As he was a demi-god to some, so was he a fiend to others.


And indeed there was hardly any other way in which it was possible to carry on the contest against him.


From the moment in which Mr. Melmotte had declared his purpose of standing for Westminster in the Conservative interest, an attempt was made to drive him down the throats of the electors by clamorous assertions of his unprecedented commercial greatness.

From the moment he declared his purpose of standing for Westminster, an attempt was made to drive him down the throats of the electors by assertions of his commercial greatness.


It seemed that there was but one virtue in the world, commercial enterprise,--and that Melmotte was its prophet.


It seemed, too, that the orators and writers of the day intended all Westminster to believe that Melmotte treated his great affairs in a spirit very different from that which animates the bosoms of merchants in general.


He had risen above any feeling of personal profit.


His wealth was so immense that there was no longer place for anxiety on that score.

His wealth was so immense, it was said, that he had no need for any personal profit.


He already possessed,--so it was said,--enough to found a dozen families, and he had but one daughter!


But by carrying on the enormous affairs which he held in his hands, he would be able to open up new worlds, to afford relief to the oppressed nationalities of the over-populated old countries.


He had seen how small was the good done by the Peabodys and the Bairds, and, resolving to lend no ear to charities and religions, was intent on projects for enabling young nations to earn plentiful bread by the moderate sweat of their brows.


He was the head and front of the railway which was to regenerate Mexico.

He was the head of the railway which was to regenerate Mexico.


It was presumed that the contemplated line from ocean to ocean across British America would become a fact in his hands.


It was he who was to enter into terms with the Emperor of China for farming the tea-fields of that vast country.

He was to enter into terms with the Emperor of China for farming the tea-fields of that vast country.


He was already in treaty with Russia for a railway from Moscow to Khiva.


He had a fleet,--or soon would have a fleet of emigrant ships,--ready to carry every discontented Irishman out of Ireland to whatever quarter of the globe the Milesian might choose for the exercise of his political principles.

He had a fleet - or soon would have a fleet - of emigrant ships, ready to carry every discontented Irishman from Ireland to all quarters of the globe.


It was known that he had already floated a company for laying down a submarine wire from Penzance to Point de Galle, round the Cape of Good Hope,--so that, in the event of general wars, England need be dependent on no other country for its communications with India.


And then there was the philanthropic scheme for buying the liberty of the Arabian fellahs from the Khedive of Egypt for thirty millions sterling,--the compensation to consist of the concession of a territory about four times as big as Great Britain in the lately annexed country on the great African lakes.


It may have been the case that some of these things were as yet only matters of conversation,--speculations as to which Mr. Melmotte's mind and imagination had been at work, rather than his pocket or even his credit; but they were all sufficiently matured to find their way into the public press, and to be used as strong arguments why Melmotte should become member of Parliament for Westminster.

Some of these things were only speculation; but they all found their way into the public press, and were used as strong arguments why Melmotte should become member of Parliament for Westminster.


All this praise was of course gall to those who found themselves called upon by the demands of their political position to oppose Mr. Melmotte.


You can run down a demi-god only by making him out to be a demi-devil.


These very persons, the leading Liberals of the leading borough in England as they called themselves, would perhaps have cared little about Melmotte's antecedents had it not become their duty to fight him as a Conservative.


Had the great man found at the last moment that his own British politics had been liberal in their nature, these very enemies would have been on his committee.


It was their business to secure the seat.


And as Melmotte's supporters began the battle with an attempt at what the Liberals called "bounce,"--to carry the borough with a rush by an overwhelming assertion of their candidate's virtues,--the other party was driven to make some enquiries as to that candidate's antecedents.

The opposing Liberals were driven to make enquiries about his history.


They quickly warmed to the work, and were not less loud in exposing the Satan of speculation, than had been the Conservatives in declaring the commercial Jove.


Emissaries were sent to Paris and Francfort, and the wires were used to Vienna and New York.

Messages were sent to Paris and Frankfurt, Vienna and New York.


It was not difficult to collect stories,--true or false; and some quiet men, who merely looked on at the game, expressed an opinion that Melmotte might have wisely abstained from the glories of Parliament.

It was not difficult to collect stories - true or false.


Nevertheless there was at first some difficulty in finding a proper Liberal candidate to run against him.

Nevertheless there was at first some difficulty in finding a Liberal candidate to run against him.


The nobleman who had been elevated out of his seat by the death of his father had been a great Whig magnate, whose family was possessed of immense wealth and of popularity equal to its possessions.


One of that family might have contested the borough at a much less expense than any other person,--and to them the expense would have mattered but little.


But there was no such member of it forthcoming.


Lord This and Lord That,--and the Honourable This and the Honourable That, sons of other cognate Lords,--already had seats which they were unwilling to vacate in the present state of affairs.


There was but one other session for the existing Parliament; and the odds were held to be very greatly in Melmotte's favour.


Many an outsider was tried, but the outsiders were either afraid of Melmotte's purse or his influence.

Many were asked, but they were either afraid of Melmotte's purse or his influence.


Lord Buntingford was asked, and he and his family were good old Whigs.


But he was nephew to Lord Alfred Grendall, first cousin to Miles Grendall, and abstained on behalf of his relatives.

but he was nephew to Lord Alfred Grendall, and abstained.


An overture was made to Sir Damask Monogram, who certainly could afford the contest.