What was it to Hetta that her lover had been false to this American stranger?

If he had been false to this American stranger


It did not seem to her to be at all necessary that she should be angry with her lover on that head.

, it did not seem to her to be necessary that she should be angry with him for that reason.


Mrs. Hurtle had told her that she herself must decide whether she would take upon herself to avenge her rival's wrongs.


In saying that Mrs. Hurtle had taught her to feel that there were no other wrongs which she need avenge.


If she could only thank the woman for the pleasantness of her demeanour, and then go, she could, when alone, make up her mind as to what she would do next.

If she could only thank the woman and then go, she could, when alone, make up her mind as to what she would do next.


She had not yet told herself she would submit herself again to Paul Montague.

She had not yet told herself she would submit again to Paul Montague.


She had only told herself that, within her own breast, she was bound to forgive him.

She had only told herself that, within her heart, she was bound to forgive him.


"You have been very kind," she said at last,--speaking only because it was necessary that she should say something.

"You have been very kind," she said at last.


"It is well that there should be some kindness where there has been so much that is unkind.


Forgive me, Miss Carbury, if I speak plainly to you.


You have told me that you love him dearly, as plainly as I have told you the same story of myself.


Your coming here would of itself have declared it, even if I did not see your satisfaction at my account of his treachery to me."


"Oh, Mrs. Hurtle, do not say that of me!"


"But it is true, and I do not in the least quarrel with you on that account.


He has preferred you to me, and as far as I am concerned there is an end of it.


You are a girl, whereas I am a woman,--and he likes your youth.

You are a girl, whereas I am a woman; and he likes your youth.


I have undergone the cruel roughness of the world, which has not as yet touched you; and therefore you are softer to the touch.

I have undergone the cruel roughness of the world, which has not as yet touched you.


I do not know that you are very superior in other attractions; but that has sufficed, and you are the victor.


I am strong enough to acknowledge that I have nothing to forgive in you;--and am weak enough to forgive all his treachery."

I am strong enough to acknowledge that I have nothing to forgive in you; and am weak enough to forgive his treachery."


Hetta was now holding the woman by the hand, and was weeping, she knew not why.

Hetta was now holding the woman by the hand, and weeping, she knew not why.


"I am so glad to have seen you," continued Mrs. Hurtle, "so that I may know what his wife was like.

"I am glad to have seen you," continued Mrs. Hurtle, "so that I may know what his wife was like.


In a few days I shall return to the States, and then neither of you will ever be troubled further by Winifrid Hurtle.

In a few days I shall return to the States, and then neither of you will ever be troubled further by me.


Tell him that if he will come and see me once before I go, I will not be more unkind to him than I can help."


When Hetta did not decline to be the bearer of this message she must have at any rate resolved that she would see Paul Montague again,--and to see him would be to tell him that she was again his own.

When Hetta did not decline to bear this message she must have resolved that she would see Paul Montague again.


She now got herself quickly out of the room, absolutely kissing the woman whom she had both dreaded and despised.

She now got herself quickly out of the room, kissing the woman whom she had dreaded and despised.


As soon as she was alone in the street she tried to think of it all.


How full of beauty was the face of that American female,--how rich and glorious her voice in spite of a slight taint of the well-known nasal twang;--and above all how powerful and at the same time how easy and how gracious was her manner!

How full of beauty was the American woman's face - how rich and glorious her voice - above all, how powerful and yet how easy and how gracious was her manner!


That she would be an unfit wife for Paul Montague was certain to Hetta, but that he or any man should have loved her and have been loved by her, and then have been willing to part from her, was wonderful.

That any man should have loved her and have been loved by her, and then have been willing to part from her, was extraordinary.


And yet Paul Montague had preferred herself, Hetta Carbury, to this woman!

And yet Paul Montague had preferred her, Hetta Carbury, to this woman!


Paul had certainly done well for his own cause when he had referred the younger lady to the elder.


Of her own quarrel of course there must be an end.


She had been unjust to the man, and injustice must of course be remedied by repentance and confession.

She had been unjust to Paul, and that must be remedied.


As she walked quickly back to the railway station she brought herself to love her lover more fondly than she had ever done.


He had been true to her from the first hour of their acquaintance.


What truth higher than that has any woman a right to desire?


No doubt she gave to him a virgin heart.


No other man had ever touched her lips, or been allowed to press her hand, or to look into her eyes with unrebuked admiration.


It was her pride to give herself to the man she loved after this fashion, pure and white as snow on which no foot has trodden.


But in taking him, all that she wanted was that he should be true to her now and henceforward.

All she wanted was that he should be true to her now.


As to the "now," she felt that Mrs. Hurtle had given her sufficient assurance.


She must at once let her mother know this change in her mind.


When she re-entered the house she was no longer sullen, no longer anxious to be silent, very willing to be gracious if she might be received with favour,--but quite determined that nothing should shake her purpose.

When she re-entered the house she was no longer sullen, but quite determined that nothing should shake her purpose.


She went at once into her mother's room, having heard from the boy at the door that Lady Carbury had returned.


"Mamma," she said, "I mean to write to Mr. Montague and tell him that I have been unjust to him."


"Hetta, you must do nothing of the kind," said Lady Carbury, rising from her seat.


"It will be asking him to come back to you."


I shall tell him that if he will come, I will receive him.


Oh, mamma, let us be friends, and I will tell you everything.


"You have sent him back his brooch," said Lady Carbury hoarsely.


"But she told me that which has assured me that Mr. Montague has never behaved badly to me.

"But what she told me assured me that Mr. Montague has never behaved badly to me.


If you like I will show you the letter."


"Any letter to him, I will tear," said Lady Carbury, full of anger.

"I will tear it up," said Lady Carbury, full of anger.


"Mamma, I have told you everything, but in this I must judge for myself."


Then Hetta, seeing that her mother would not relent, left the room without further speech, and immediately opened her desk that the letter might be written.

Then Hetta, seeing that her mother would not relent, left the room, and went immediately to write her letter.


"Have you been thinking any more about it?"


Lord Nidderdale said to the girl as soon as Madame Melmotte had succeeded in leaving them alone together.

Lord Nidderdale said to Marie as soon as Madame Melmotte had left them alone together.


"I have thought ever so much more about it," said Marie.


"That's right," said Nidderdale, throwing himself on the sofa close to her, so that he might put his arm round her waist.

"That's right," said Nidderdale, throwing himself on the sofa so that he might put his arm round her waist.


"Wait a moment, Lord Nidderdale," she said.


You think you might as well marry me, though you don't love me a bit."


And I think just the same,--that I might as well marry you, though I don't love you a bit."

And I think just the same - that I might as well marry you, though I don't love you a bit."


You had better know the exact truth, you know.


I have told my father that I did not think you'd ever come again, but that if you did I would accept you.

I have told my father that I would accept you.


But I'm not going to tell any stories about it.


But you know who I've been in love with."


"But you can't be in love with him now."


And if he were to come to me, I don't think that I would.


You never did care, and you never said you cared."


You say it now because you think that I shall like it.


I don't mind about your arm being there if we are to be married, only it's just as well for both of us to look on it as business."


I wasn't hard to Sir Felix Carbury, and so I tell you.


"He has just been thrashed, you know, in the streets,--most horribly."

"He has just been thrashed, you know, in the streets, most horribly."


Marie had not been told of this, and started back from her lover's arms.


"I don't want to tell the story against him, but they say he has been cut about in a terrible manner."


"There was a young lady in the question, Marie."


I don't care about anything, Lord Nidderdale;--not a bit.


I suppose you've made up all that out of your own head."


I believe he was beaten, and I believe it was about a young woman.

I believe he was beaten about a young woman.


But it signifies nothing to me, and I don't suppose it signifies much to you.


Don't you think we might fix a day, Marie?"


"The longer it's put off the better I shall like it;--that's all."

"The longer it's put off the better; that's all."


I think you are a very good fellow; only you don't care for me.


But it is detestable not being able to do what one wants.


It's detestable having to quarrel with everybody and never to be good friends with anybody.

It's detestable having to quarrel with everybody.


And it's horribly detestable having nothing on earth to give one any interest."


Wouldn't you like to know anything about the place where we live?"


"Yes;--Castle Reekie; ever so many hundred years old."

"Yes; Castle Reekie; ever so many hundred years old."


I should like a new house, and a new dress, and a new horse every week,--and a new lover.

I should like a new house, and a new dress, and a new horse every week - and a new lover.


I don't suppose we are to go and live there too."

I don't suppose we are to live there too."


"You may manage it all just as you like with papa.


If I'm to belong to you what does it matter?


But if ever I do say it, you may be sure it will be true.


That's more than you can say of yourself,--John."

That's more than you can say yourself - John."


So the interview was over and Nidderdale walked back to the house thinking of his lady love, as far as he was able to bring his mind to any operation of thinking.

So the interview was over and Nidderdale walked back to the house thinking of his lady love, as far as he was capable of thinking.


He was fully determined to go on with it.

He was fully determined to go on with the marriage.


As far as the girl herself was concerned, she had, in these latter days, become much more attractive to him than when he had first known her.

The girl had lately become much more attractive to him than when he had first known her.


And, though he could not tell himself that she was altogether like a lady, still she had a manner of her own which made him think that she would be able to live with ladies.

And, though she was not altogether like a lady, still she had a manner of her own.


And he did think that, in spite of all she said to the contrary, she was becoming fond of him,--as he certainly had become fond of her.

And he did think that, in spite of all she said, she was becoming fond of him - as he certainly had become fond of her.


"We'll have it very soon then;--some time next month.

"We'll have it very soon then; some time next month.


And to tell the truth so shall I. I never was worked so hard in my life as I've been this summer.

To tell the truth so shall I. I never was worked so hard in my life as I've been this summer


The election and that horrid dinner had something to do with it.

, with the election and that horrid dinner.


And I don't mind telling you that I've had a fearful weight on my mind in reference to money.

And I don't mind telling you that I've had a fearful weight on my mind about money.


I never had to find so many large sums in so short a time!


"I wonder why you gave the dinner then."


"My dear boy,"--it was very pleasant to him to call the son of a marquis his dear boy,--"as regards expenditure that was a flea-bite.

"My dear boy, as regards expenditure that was a flea-bite.


Nothing that I could spend myself would have the slightest effect upon my condition,--one way or the other."


"I wish it could be the same way with me," said Nidderdale.


"If you chose to go into business with me instead of taking Marie's money out, it very soon would be so with you.


I never know whence these panics arise, or why they come, or whither they go.


But when they do come, they are like a storm at sea.


It is only the strong ships that can stand the fury of the winds and waves.


And then the buffeting which a man gets leaves him only half the man he was.


I don't mind telling you everything as it is settled now that you are to be Marie's husband.


I know that you are honest, and that if you could hurt me by repeating what I say you wouldn't do it."

I know that you are honest, and that you wouldn't hurt me by repeating anything I say."


"You see I've no partner,--nobody that is bound to know my affairs.


My wife is the best woman in the world, but is utterly unable to understand anything about it.

"You see my wife is the best woman in the world, but is utterly unable to understand anything about it.


Cohenlupe whom you see so much with me is all very well,--in his way, but I never talk over my affairs with him.

Cohenlupe is all very well, but I never talk over my affairs with him.


He is concerned with me in one or two things,--our American railway for instance, but he has no interest generally in my house.


It is all on my own shoulders, and I can tell you the weight is a little heavy.


It will be the greatest comfort to me in the world if I can get you to have an interest in the matter."


"I don't suppose I could ever really be any good at business," said the modest young lord.


But I should be glad to think that I could tell you how things are going on.

"Still I should be glad to tell you how things are going on.


Of course you heard all that was said just before the election.


For forty-eight hours I had a very bad time of it then.

For forty-eight hours I had a very bad time of it.


The fact was that Alf and they who were supporting him thought that they could carry the election by running me down.

The fact was that Alf and his supporters thought that they could carry the election by running me down.


They were at it for a fortnight,--perfectly unscrupulous as to what they said or what harm they might do me and others.


They couldn't get their man in, but they could and did have the effect of depreciating my property suddenly by nearly half a million of money.

They couldn't get their man in, but they did have the effect of depreciating my property suddenly by nearly half a million.


"I don't understand how it could be done."


"Because you don't understand how delicate a thing is credit.


They persuaded a lot of men to stay away from that infernal dinner, and consequently it was spread about the town that I was ruined.


The effect upon shares which I held was instantaneous and tremendous.

The effect upon my shares was instantaneous.


The Mexican railway were at 117, and they fell from that in two days to something quite nominal,--so that selling was out of the question.

The Mexican railway fell from 117 to something quite nominal, so that selling was out of the question.


Cohenlupe and I between us had about 8,000 of these shares.


Nidderdale tried to calculate what it did come to, but failed altogether.

Nidderdale tried to calculate it, but failed altogether.


"That's what I call a blow;--a terrible blow.


When a man is concerned as I am with money interests, and concerned largely with them all, he is of course exchanging one property for another every day of his life,--according as the markets go.

When a man is concerned as I am with money interests, he is of course exchanging one property for another every day, according as the markets go.


I don't keep such a sum as that in one concern as an investment.

I don't keep such a sum as that in one concern.


Then when a panic comes, don't you see how it hits?"

Then when a panic comes, you see how it hits?"


And in the meantime I am driven to fall back upon property intended for other purposes.


That's the meaning of what you hear about that place down in Sussex which I bought for Marie.


I was so driven that I was obliged to raise forty or fifty thousand wherever I could.


But that will be all right in a week or two.


And as for Marie's money,--that, you know, is settled."

And as for Marie's money - that, you know, is settled."


He quite succeeded in making Nidderdale believe every word that he spoke, and he produced also a friendly feeling in the young man's bosom, with something approaching to a desire that he might be of service to his future father-in-law.

He succeeded in making Nidderdale believe every word that he spoke, and he also produced a friendly feeling in the young man - almost a desire to be of service to his future father-in-law.


Hazily, as through a thick fog, Lord Nidderdale thought that he did see something of the troubles, as he had long seen something of the glories, of commerce on an extended scale, and an idea occurred to him that it might be almost more exciting than whist or unlimited loo.

Hazily, as through a thick fog, Lord Nidderdale thought that he did see something of the troubles of commerce, which seemed almost more exciting than whist or loo.


He resolved too that whatever the man might tell him should never be divulged.

He resolved too that whatever the man might tell him would never be divulged.


He was on this occasion somewhat captivated by Melmotte, and went away from the interview with a conviction that the financier was a big man;--one with whom he could sympathise, and to whom in a certain way he could become attached.

He was somewhat captivated by Melmotte, and went away convinced that the financier was a big man; one with whom he could sympathise, and to whom in a certain way he could become attached.


And Melmotte himself had derived positive pleasure even from a simulated confidence in his son-in-law.

And Melmotte himself had derived pleasure even from a simulated confidence in his son-in-law.


It had been pleasant to him to talk as though he were talking to a young friend whom he trusted.

It had been pleasant to talk as though he were a young friend whom he trusted.


It was impossible that he could really admit any one to a participation in his secrets.


It was out of the question that he should ever allow himself to be betrayed into speaking the truth of his own affairs.

It was out of the question that he should ever speak the truth about his own affairs


Of course every word he had said to Nidderdale had been a lie, or intended to corroborate lies.

, and of course every word he had said to Nidderdale had been intended to corroborate lies.


But it had not been only on behalf of the lies that he had talked after this fashion.


Even though his friendship with the young man were but a mock friendship,--though it would too probably be turned into bitter enmity before three months had passed by,--still there was a pleasure in it.


The Grendalls had left him since the day of the dinner,--Miles having sent him a letter up from the country complaining of severe illness.


It was a comfort to him to have someone to whom he could speak, and he much preferred Nidderdale to Miles Grendall.

Yet it was a comfort to have someone to whom he could speak, and he much preferred Nidderdale to Miles Grendall.


This conversation took place in the smoking-room.


When it was over Melmotte went into the House, and Nidderdale strolled away to the Beargarden.


The Beargarden had been opened again though with difficulty, and with diminished luxury.

The Beargarden had been opened again though with diminished luxury, and with


Nor could even this be done without rigid laws as to the payment of ready money.


Herr Vossner had never more been heard of, but the bills which Vossner had left unpaid were held to be good against the club, whereas every note of hand which he had taken from the members was left in the possession of Mr. Flatfleece.

Herr Vossner had never more been heard of, but every note of hand which he had taken from the members was left in the possession of Mr. Flatfleece.


Of course there was sorrow and trouble at the Beargarden; but still the institution had become so absolutely necessary to its members that it had been reopened under a new management.

Of course there was sorrow and trouble at the Beargarden; but the institution had become absolutely necessary to its members


No one had felt this need more strongly during every hour of the day,--of the day as he counted his days, rising as he did about an hour after noon and going to bed three or four hours after midnight,--than did Dolly Longestaffe.

- and to no one more than Dolly Longestaffe.


The Beargarden had become so much to him that he had begun to doubt whether life would be even possible without such a resort for his hours.


But now the club was again open, and Dolly could have his dinner and his bottle of wine with the luxury to which he was accustomed.

Now that the club was again open, Dolly could have his dinner and his bottle of wine with the luxury to which he was accustomed.


But at this time he was almost mad with the sense of injury.

But at this time Dolly was almost mad with the sense of injury.


Circumstances had held out to him a prospect of almost unlimited ease and indulgence.


The arrangement made as to the Pickering estate would pay all his debts, would disembarrass his own property, and would still leave him a comfortable sum in hand.

He had expected that the sale of the Pickering estate would pay all his debts and still leave him a comfortable sum.


Squercum had told him that if he would stick to his terms he would surely get them.


He had stuck to his terms and he had got them.


And now the property was sold, and the title-deeds gone,--and he had not received a penny!

And now the property was sold, and the title-deeds gone - and he had not received a penny!


He did not know whom to be loudest in abusing,--his father, the Bideawhiles, or Mr. Melmotte.

He did not know whom to be loudest in abusing: his father, the Bideawhiles, or Mr. Melmotte.


And then it was said that he had signed that letter!


He was very open in his manner of talking about his misfortune at the club.

He was very open in talking about it at the club.


His father was the most obstinate old fool that ever lived.


As for the Bideawhiles,--he would bring an action against them.

As for the Bideawhiles, he would bring an action against them.


But Melmotte was the biggest rogue the world had ever produced.


the world," he said, "must be coming to an end.


There's that infernal scoundrel sitting in Parliament just as if he had not robbed me of my property, and forged my name, and--and--by George!

he said, "there's that infernal scoundrel sitting in Parliament just as if he had not robbed me of my property, and forged my name, by George!


If any man ever deserved to be hung, that man deserves to be hung."

If any man ever deserved to be hung, that man does."


This he spoke openly in the coffee-room of the club, and was still speaking as Nidderdale was taking his seat at one of the tables.

This he said as Nidderdale was taking his seat at one of the tables.


Dolly had been dining, and had turned round upon his chair so as to face some half-dozen men whom he was addressing.


Nidderdale leaving his chair walked up to him very gently.

Nidderdale, leaving his chair, walked up to him very gently.


"Dolly," said he, "do not go on in that way about Melmotte when I am in the room.


I have no doubt you are mistaken, and so you'll find out in a day or two.

I have no doubt you are mistaken, and so you'll find in a day or two.


Dolly still continued to exclaim with a loud voice.


"Am I mistaken in supposing that I haven't been paid my money?"


"I don't believe it has been owing very long."


"Am I mistaken in supposing that my name has been forged to a letter?"


"I am sure you are mistaken if you think that Melmotte had anything to do with it."


We all know what are the suspicions of a fellow of that kind."


"I'd believe Squercum a deuced sight sooner than Melmotte."


I know more probably of Melmotte's affairs than you do or perhaps than anybody else.

I probably know more of Melmotte's affairs than you do.


If it will induce you to remain quiet for a few days and to hold your tongue here,--I'll make myself responsible for the entire sum he owes you."

If it will induce you to remain quiet for a few days, I'll make myself responsible for the entire sum he owes you."


Nidderdale was endeavouring to speak so that only Dolly should hear him, and probably nobody else did hear him; but Dolly would not lower his voice.

Nidderdale was speaking quietly, but Dolly would not lower his voice.


"That's out of the question, you know," he said.


The truth is, Nidderdale, the man is a thief, and so you'll find out, sooner or later.


He has broken open a drawer in my father's room and forged my name to a letter.

He has broken open a drawer in my father's room and forged my name.


Even my governor knows it now,--and Bideawhile.


Before many days are over you'll find that he will be in gaol for forgery."


This was very unpleasant, as every one knew that Nidderdale was either engaged or becoming engaged to Melmotte's daughter.

This was very unpleasant, as everyone knew that Nidderdale was to become engaged to Melmotte's daughter.


"Since you will speak about it in this public way--" began Nidderdale.

"Since you will speak about it in this public way," began Nidderdale


"I think it ought to be spoken about in a public way," said Dolly.


I can't say anything about the letter except that I am sure Mr. Melmotte did not put your name to it.


From what I understand there seems to have been some blunder between your father and his lawyer."


"That's true enough," said Dolly; "but it doesn't excuse Melmotte."


"As to the money, there can be no more doubt that it will be paid than that I stand here.

"As to the money, it will certainly be paid.


What is it?--twenty-five thousand, isn't it?"


It's impossible to suppose that such a man as Melmotte shouldn't be able to raise eighty thousand pounds."

It's impossible that such a man as Melmotte shouldn't be able to raise eighty thousand pounds."


All this was very unpleasant and made the club less social than it used to be in old days.

All this unpleasantness made the club less social than it used to be.


There was an attempt that night to get up a game of cards; but Nidderdale would not play because he was offended with Dolly Longestaffe; and Miles Grendall was away in the country,--a fugitive from the face of Melmotte, and Carbury was in hiding at home with his countenance from top to bottom supported by plasters, and Montague in these days never went to the club.

There was an attempt to get up a game of cards; but Nidderdale would not play because he was offended with Dolly Longestaffe; and Miles Grendall was away in the country, and Carbury was in hiding at home with his face covered in plasters, and Montague in these days never went to the club.


At the present moment he was again in Liverpool, having been summoned thither by Mr. Ramsbottom.

At present he was again in Liverpool, having been summoned there by Mr. Ramsbottom.


"By George," said Dolly, as he filled another pipe and ordered more brandy and water, "I think everything is going to come to an end.

"By George," said Dolly, as he ordered more brandy and water, "I think everything is going to come to an end.


I never heard of such a thing before as a man being done in this way.


And then Vossner has gone off, and it seems everybody is to pay just what he says they owed him.


And now one can't even get up a game of cards.


I feel as though there were no good in hoping that things would ever come right again."

I feel as though things might never come right again."


The opinion of the club was a good deal divided as to the matter in dispute between Lord Nidderdale and Dolly Longestaffe.

The opinion of the club was divided as to the matter in dispute between Lord Nidderdale and Dolly Longestaffe.


It was admitted by some to be "very fishy."


If Melmotte were so great a man why didn't he pay the money, and why should he have mortgaged the property before it was really his own?

If Melmotte were so great a man why didn't he pay the money?


But the majority of the men thought that Dolly was wrong.


As to the signature of the letter, Dolly was a man who would naturally be quite unable to say what he had and what he had not signed.


And then, even into the Beargarden there had filtered, through the outer world, a feeling that people were not now bound to be so punctilious in the paying of money as they were a few years since.

And there was a general feeling that people were not bound to be so punctilious in the paying of money as they were a few years ago.


No doubt it suited Melmotte to make use of the money, and therefore,--as he had succeeded in getting the property into his hands,--he did make use of it.

No doubt Melmotte would produce the money


But it would be forthcoming sooner or later!


In this way of looking at the matter the Beargarden followed the world at large.


The world at large, in spite of the terrible falling-off at the Emperor of China's dinner, in spite of all the rumours, in spite of the ruinous depreciation of the Mexican Railway stock, and of the undoubted fact that Dolly Longestaffe had not received his money, was inclined to think that Melmotte would "pull through."

The world, in spite of all the rumours, in spite of the ruinous depreciation of the Mexican Railway stock, and the undoubted fact that Dolly Longestaffe had not received his money, was inclined to think that Melmotte would "pull through."


The next night but one after that of the gambling transaction at the Beargarden, a great ball was given in Grosvenor Square.

Two nights after that, a great ball was given in Grosvenor Square.


It was a ball on a scale so magnificent that it had been talked about ever since Parliament met, now about a fortnight since.

It was a ball on a scale so magnificent that it had been talked about for a fortnight.


Some people had expressed an opinion that such a ball as this was intended to be could not be given successfully in February.


Others declared that the money which was to be spent,--an amount which would make this affair something quite new in the annals of ball-giving,--would give the thing such a character that it would certainly be successful.

declared that February was the wrong time for such a ball; others said that the huge amount of money spent would certainly make it a success.


And much more than money had been expended.


Almost incredible efforts had been made to obtain the co-operation of great people, and these efforts had at last been grandly successful.

Almost incredible efforts had been made to obtain the co-operation of great people.


The Duchess of Stevenage had come up from Castle Albury herself to be present at it and to bring her daughters, though it has never been her Grace's wont to be in London at this inclement season.

The Duchess of Stevenage had come up from Castle Albury to attend it with her daughters, though it had never been her Grace's habit to be in London in winter.


No doubt the persuasion used with the Duchess had been very strong.


Her brother, Lord Alfred Grendall, was known to be in great difficulties, which,--so people said,--had been considerably modified by opportune pecuniary assistance.

But then her brother, Lord Alfred Grendall, was known to be in great difficulties, which - people said - had been considerably modified by financial help.


And then it was certain that one of the young Grendalls, Lord Alfred's second son, had been appointed to some mercantile position, for which he received a salary which his most intimate friends thought that he was hardly qualified to earn.

And one of the young Grendalls, Lord Alfred's second son, had been appointed to some mercantile position in the City, at Abchurch Lane, for which he received a salary which his friends thought he was hardly qualified to earn.


It was certainly a fact that he went to Abchurch Lane, in the City, four or five days a week, and that he did not occupy his time in so unaccustomed a manner for nothing.


Where the Duchess of Stevenage went all the world would go.

Where the Duchess of Stevenage went, all the world would go.


And it became known at the last moment, that is to say only the day before the party, that a prince of the blood royal was to be there.

And it became known the day before the party that a royal prince was to be there.


How this had been achieved nobody quite understood; but there were rumours that a certain lady's jewels had been rescued from the pawnbroker's.


The Prime Minister had indeed declined to allow his name to appear on the list; but one Cabinet Minister and two or three under-secretaries had agreed to come because it was felt that the giver of the ball might before long be the master of considerable parliamentary interest.

The Prime Minister had declined to accept; but one Cabinet Minister and two or three under-secretaries had agreed to come, because it was felt that the giver of the ball might before long


It was believed that he had an eye to politics, and it is always wise to have great wealth on one's own side.

enter politics: and it is always wise to have great wealth on one's own side.


There had at one time been much solicitude about the ball.

There had been much anxiety about the ball.


When great attempts fail, the failure is disastrous, and may be ruinous.


But this ball had now been put beyond the chance of failure.

But it was now beyond the chance of failure.


The giver of the ball was Augustus Melmotte, Esq., the father of the girl whom Sir Felix Carbury desired to marry, and the husband of the lady who was said to have been a Bohemian Jewess.

The giver of the ball was Augustus Melmotte, the father of the girl whom Sir Felix Carbury desired to marry, and the husband of the lady who was said to have been a Bohemian Jewess.


It was thus that the gentleman chose to have himself designated, though within the last two years he had arrived in London from Paris, and had at first been known as M. Melmotte.

Two years ago, when he arrived in London from Paris, he was known as Monsieur Melmotte.


But he had declared of himself that he had been born in England, and that he was an Englishman.

But he declared that he had been born in England.


He admitted that his wife was a foreigner,--an admission that was necessary as she spoke very little English.

He admitted that his wife was a foreigner; indeed, she spoke very little English.


Melmotte himself spoke his "native" language fluently, but with an accent which betrayed at least a long expatriation.

Melmotte spoke it fluently, but with an accent.


Miss Melmotte,--who a very short time since had been known as Mademoiselle Marie,--spoke English well, but as a foreigner.


In regard to her it was acknowledged that she had been born out of England,--some said in New York; but Madame Melmotte, who must have known, had declared that the great event had taken place in Paris.

: some said she had been born in New York, but Madame Melmotte declared that the great event had taken place in Paris.


It was at any rate an established fact that Mr. Melmotte had made his wealth in France.


He no doubt had had enormous dealings in other countries, as to which stories were told which must surely have been exaggerated.

He no doubt had had enormous dealings in other countries, even if the stories were exaggerated.


It was said that he had made a railway across Russia, that he provisioned the Southern army in the American civil war, that he had supplied Austria with arms, and had at one time bought up all the iron in England.


He could make or mar any company by buying or selling stock, and could make money dear or cheap as he pleased.


All this was said of him in his praise,--but it was also said that he was regarded in Paris as the most gigantic swindler that had ever lived; that he had made that City too hot to hold him; that he had endeavoured to establish himself in Vienna, but had been warned away by the police; and that he had at length found that British freedom would alone allow him to enjoy, without persecution, the fruits of his industry.

However, it was also said that he was regarded in Paris as the most gigantic swindler that had ever lived; that he had made that city too hot to hold him; that he had tried to establish himself in Vienna, but had been warned away by the police; and that he had at length found that Britain alone would allow him to enjoy, without persecution, the fruits of his industry.


He was now established privately in Grosvenor Square and officially in Abchurch Lane; and it was known to all the world that a Royal Prince, a Cabinet Minister, and the very cream of duchesses were going to his wife's ball.

His private house was in Grosvenor Square and his house of business in Abchurch Lane.


All this had been done within twelve months.


There was but one child in the family, one heiress for all this wealth.

There was only one child in the family, one heiress for all this wealth.


Melmotte himself was a large man, with bushy whiskers and rough thick hair, with heavy eyebrows, and a wonderful look of power about his mouth and chin.

Melmotte himself was a large man, with bushy whiskers and thick hair, heavy eyebrows, and a powerful-looking mouth and chin.


This was so strong as to redeem his face from vulgarity; but the countenance and appearance of the man were on the whole unpleasant, and, I may say, untrustworthy.

His appearance was strong, but on the whole unpleasant and untrustworthy.


He looked as though he were purse-proud and a bully.


She was fat and fair,--unlike in colour to our traditional Jewesses; but she had the Jewish nose and the Jewish contraction of the eyes.

His wife was fat and fair, with a Jewish nose.


There was certainly very little in Madame Melmotte to recommend her, unless it was a readiness to spend money on any object that might be suggested to her by her new acquaintances.


It sometimes seemed that she had a commission from her husband to give away presents to any who would accept them.

and give away presents to any who would accept them.


The world had received the man as Augustus Melmotte, Esq.


The world so addressed him on the very numerous letters which reached him, and so inscribed him among the directors of three dozen companies to which he belonged.


She was still Madame Melmotte, not Mrs. Melmotte.


The daughter had been allowed to take her rank with an English title.


She was now Miss Melmotte on all occasions.

, once Mademoiselle, was now Miss Melmotte on all occasions.


Marie Melmotte had been accurately described by Felix Carbury to his mother.

Felix Carbury had accurately described Marie Melmotte to his mother.


She was not beautiful, she was not clever, and she was not a saint.

She was not beautiful, nor clever, nor a saint.


But then neither was she plain, nor stupid, nor, especially, a sinner.

But then neither was she plain, stupid, or a sinner.


She was a little thing, hardly over twenty years of age, very unlike her father or mother, having no trace of the Jewess in her countenance, who seemed to be overwhelmed by the sense of her own position.

She was a little thing, hardly over twenty years of age, and seemed to be overwhelmed by the sense of her own position.


With such people as the Melmottes things go fast, and it was very well known that Miss Melmotte had already had one lover who had been nearly accepted.

It was well known that Miss Melmotte had already had one lover who had been nearly accepted.


In this "going off" no one imputed to the young lady blame or even misfortune.


It was not supposed that she had either jilted or been jilted.


As in royal espousals interests of State regulate their expedience with an acknowledged absence, with even a proclaimed impossibility, of personal predilections, so in this case was money allowed to have the same weight.

As royal marriages are governed by the interests of State, so in this case money had the same weight.


Such a marriage would or would not be sanctioned in accordance with great pecuniary arrangements.


The young Lord Nidderdale, the eldest son of the Marquis of Auld Reekie, had offered to take the girl and make her Marchioness in the process of time for half a million down.

The young Lord Nidderdale, the eldest son of the Marquis of Auld Reekie, had offered to marry the girl and make her Marchioness in exchange for half a million pounds.


Melmotte had not objected to the sum,--so it was said,--but had proposed to tie it up.

Melmotte had not objected to the sum - so it was said - but had proposed to tie it up.


Nidderdale had desired to have it free in his own grasp, and would not move on any other terms.

Nidderdale had desired to have it free in his own grasp.


Melmotte had been anxious to secure the Marquis,--very anxious to secure the Marchioness; for at that time terms had not been made with the Duchess; but at last he had lost his temper, and had asked his lordship's lawyer whether it was likely that he would entrust such a sum of money to such a man.

Although Melmotte had been anxious to secure the title for his daughter, he had lost his temper, and had asked his lordship's lawyer whether it was likely that he would entrust so much money to such a man.


"You are willing to trust your only child to him," said the lawyer.


Melmotte scowled at the man for a few seconds from under his bushy eyebrows; then told him that his answer had nothing in it, and marched out of the room.

Melmotte scowled, and marched out of the room.


I doubt whether Lord Nidderdale had ever said a word of love to Marie Melmotte,--or whether the poor girl had expected it.

I doubt whether Lord Nidderdale had ever said a word of love to Marie Melmotte - or whether the poor girl had expected it.


Her destiny had no doubt been explained to her.


Others had tried and had broken down somewhat in the same fashion.


Each had treated the girl as an encumbrance he was to undertake,--at a very great price.

, each treating the girl as an encumbrance he was to undertake at a very great price.


But as affairs prospered with the Melmottes, as princes and duchesses were obtained by other means,--costly no doubt, but not so ruinously costly,--the immediate disposition of Marie became less necessary, and Melmotte reduced his offers.

But as affairs prospered with the Melmottes, as princes and duchesses were obtained with lesser cost, a title for Marie became less necessary, and Melmotte reduced his offers.


The girl herself, too, began to have an opinion.


It was said that she had absolutely rejected Lord Grasslough, whose father indeed was in a state of bankruptcy, who had no income of his own, who was ugly, vicious, ill-tempered, and without any power of recommending himself to a girl.

It was said that she had absolutely rejected Lord Grasslough, who indeed was penniless, ugly, vicious, ill-tempered, and without any power of recommending himself to a girl.


She had had experience since Lord Nidderdale, with a half laugh, had told her that he might just as well take her for his wife, and was now tempted from time to time to contemplate her own happiness and her own condition.

She had gained experience, and she was now tempted to contemplate her own happiness.


People around were beginning to say that if Sir Felix Carbury managed his affairs well he might be the happy man.

People were beginning to say that Sir Felix Carbury might be the happy man.


There was considerable doubt whether Marie was the daughter of that Jewish-looking woman.

There was considerable doubt whether Marie was the daughter of Madame Melmotte.


Enquiries had been made, but not successfully, as to the date of the Melmotte marriage.


There was an idea abroad that Melmotte had got his first money with his wife, and had gotten it not very long ago.


Then other people said that Marie was not his daughter at all.

Some even said that Marie was not Mr. Melmotte's daughter.


Altogether the mystery was rather pleasant as the money was certain.


Of the certainty of the money in daily use there could be no doubt.

However, of the Melmotte money there could be no doubt.


There were the carriages, the horses, the servants with the livery coats and powdered heads, and the servants with the black coats and unpowdered heads.

There were the carriages, the horses, the servants with the livery coats and powdered heads.


There were the gems, and the presents, and all the nice things that money can buy.

There were the gems and presents, and the


There were two dinner parties every day, one at two o'clock called lunch, and the other at eight.


The tradesmen had learned enough to be quite free of doubt, and in the City Mr. Melmotte's name was worth any money,--though his character was perhaps worth but little.

The tradesmen were quite free of doubt, and in the City Mr. Melmotte's name was worth any money - though his character was perhaps worth little.


The large house on the south side of Grosvenor Square was all ablaze by ten o'clock.

The large house in Grosvenor Square was all ablaze by ten o'clock.


The broad verandah had been turned into a conservatory, had been covered in with boards contrived to look like trellis-work, was heated with hot air and filled with exotics at some fabulous price.

The broad veranda had been turned into a conservatory, covered with boards contrived to look like trellis-work, heated with hot air and filled with exotic plants at some fabulous price.


A covered way had been made from the door, down across the pathway, to the road, and the police had, I fear, been bribed to frighten foot passengers into a belief that they were bound to go round.

A covered way had been made from the road to the door


The house had been so arranged that it was impossible to know where you were, when once in it.


The lobbies were grottoes rich with ferns.


Walls had been knocked away and arches had been constructed.

Walls had been knocked away and arches constructed; floors had been


The leads behind had been supported and walled in, and covered and carpeted.


The ball had possession of the ground floor and first floor, and the house seemed to be endless.

The ball took up the ground floor and first floor, and the house seemed to be endless.


"It's to cost sixty thousand pounds," said the Marchioness of Auld Reekie to her old friend the Countess of Mid-Lothian.

"It's costing sixty thousand pounds," said the Marchioness of Auld Reekie to her old friend the Countess of Mid-Lothian.


The Marchioness had come in spite of her son's misfortune when she heard that the Duchess of Stevenage was to be there.


"And worse spent money never was wasted," said the Countess.

"And money was never worse spent," said the Countess.


"By all accounts it was as badly come by," said the Marchioness.


Then the two old noblewomen, one after the other, made graciously flattering speeches to the much-worn Bohemian Jewess, who was standing in fairyland to receive her guests, almost fainting under the greatness of the occasion.

Then the two old noblewomen made graciously flattering speeches to the Jewess, who was standing in fairyland to receive her guests, almost fainting under the greatness of the occasion.


The three saloons on the first or drawing-room floor had been prepared for dancing, and here Marie was stationed.

The three saloons had been prepared for dancing, and here Marie was stationed.


The Duchess had however undertaken to see that somebody should set the dancing going, and she had commissioned her nephew Miles Grendall, the young gentleman who now frequented the City, to give directions to the band and to make himself generally useful.

The Duchess of Stevenage had undertaken to see that somebody should set the dancing going, and she had commissioned her nephew Miles Grendall, the young gentleman who now worked in the City, to make himself useful.


Indeed there had sprung up a considerable intimacy between the Grendall family,--that is Lord Alfred's branch of the Grendalls,--and the Melmottes; which was as it should be, as each could give much and each receive much.

There had sprung up an intimacy between the Grendall family and the Melmottes, as each could give much and each receive much.


It was known that Lord Alfred had not a shilling; but his brother was a duke and his sister was a duchess, and for the last thirty years there had been one continual anxiety for poor dear Alfred, who had tumbled into an unfortunate marriage without a shilling, had spent his own moderate patrimony, had three sons and three daughters, and had lived now for a very long time entirely on the unwilling contributions of his noble relatives.

Lord Alfred Grendall had not a shilling; but his brother was a duke and his sister was a duchess, and poor Alfred, who had tumbled into an unfortunate marriage, and had three sons and three daughters, had lived now for a very long time entirely on the unwilling contributions of his noble relatives.


Melmotte could support the whole family in affluence without feeling the burden;--and why should he not?

But Melmotte could support the whole family in affluence without feeling the burden.


There had once been an idea that Miles should attempt to win the heiress, but it had soon been found expedient to abandon it.


Miles had no title, no position of his own, and was hardly big enough for the place.

abandoned, since Miles had no title or position.


It was in all respects better that the waters of the fountain should be allowed to irrigate mildly the whole Grendall family;--and so Miles went into the city.


The ball was opened by a quadrille in which Lord Buntingford, the eldest son of the Duchess, stood up with Marie.


Various arrangements had been made, and this among them.


We may say that it had been part of a bargain.


Lord Buntingford had objected mildly, being a young man devoted to business, fond of his own order, rather shy, and not given to dancing.

, although Lord Buntingford had objected mildly.


But he had allowed his mother to prevail.


"Of course they are vulgar," the Duchess had said,--"so much so as to be no longer distasteful because of the absurdity of the thing.


And I dare say he hasn't been very honest.


When men make so much money, I don't know how they can have been honest.


It's all very well saying that it isn't right, but what are we to do about Alfred's children?

But what are we to do about Alfred's children?


And between you and me they have got up those bills of Alfred's, and have said they can lie in their safe till it suits your uncle to pay them."


"They will lie there a long time," said Lord Buntingford.


"Of course they expect something in return; do dance with the girl once."


Lord Buntingford disapproved--mildly, and did as his mother asked him.

Lord Buntingford did as his mother asked him.


There were three or four card-tables in one of the lower rooms, and at one of them sat Lord Alfred Grendall and Mr. Melmotte, with two or three other players, cutting in and out at the end of each rubber.

There were three or four card-tables in one of the rooms, and at one of them sat Lord Alfred Grendall and Mr. Melmotte, with two or three other players.


Playing whist was Lord Alfred's only accomplishment, and almost the only occupation of his life.


He began it daily at his club at three o'clock, and continued playing till two in the morning with an interval of a couple of hours for his dinner.


This he did during ten months of the year, and during the other two he frequented some watering-place at which whist prevailed.


He did not gamble, never playing for more than the club stakes and bets.


He gave to the matter his whole mind, and must have excelled those who were generally opposed to him.


But so obdurate was fortune to Lord Alfred that he could not make money even of whist.


Melmotte was very anxious to get into Lord Alfred's club,--The Peripatetics.

Melmotte was very anxious to get into Lord Alfred's club, The Peripatetics.


It was pleasant to see the grace with which he lost his money, and the sweet intimacy with which he called his lordship Alfred.


Lord Alfred had a remnant of feeling left, and would have liked to kick him.


Though Melmotte was by far the bigger man, and was also the younger, Lord Alfred would not have lacked the pluck to kick him.

Though Melmotte was by far the bigger man, Lord Alfred would have liked to kick him.


Lord Alfred, in spite of his habitual idleness and vapid uselessness, had still left about him a dash of vigour, and sometimes thought that he would kick Melmotte and have done with it.

Lord Alfred, in spite of his habitual idleness and uselessness, had still a dash of vigour, and sometimes thought that he would kick Melmotte and have done with it.


But there were his poor boys, and those bills in Melmotte's safe.


And then Melmotte lost his points so regularly, and paid his bets with such absolute good humour!

And Melmotte paid his bets with such absolute good humour!


"Come and have a glass of champagne, Alfred," Melmotte said, as the two cut out together.

"Come and have a glass of champagne, Alfred," Melmotte said.


Lord Alfred liked champagne, and followed his host; but as he went he almost made up his mind that on some future day he would kick the man.

Lord Alfred liked champagne, and followed his host; but he almost made up his mind that on some future day he would kick the man.


Late in the evening Marie Melmotte was waltzing with Felix Carbury, and Henrietta Carbury was then standing by talking to one Mr. Paul Montague.

Late in the evening Marie Melmotte was waltzing with Felix Carbury, and Henrietta Carbury was standing by, talking to a Mr. Paul Montague.


She was not well inclined either to balls or to such people as the Melmottes; nor was Henrietta.

She did not care for balls, nor for the Melmottes;


But Felix had suggested that, bearing in mind his prospects as to the heiress, they had better accept the invitation which he would cause to have sent to them.

but Felix had suggested that they had better accept the invitation.


They did so; and then Paul Montague also got a card, not altogether to Lady Carbury's satisfaction.


Lady Carbury was very gracious to Madame Melmotte for two minutes, and then slid into a chair expecting nothing but misery for the evening.


She, however, was a woman who could do her duty and endure without complaint.

However, she was a woman who could do her duty and endure without complaint.


"It is the first great ball I ever was at in London," said Hetta Carbury to Paul Montague.


I don't understand how it is that at these parties people do know each other, or whether they all go dancing about without knowing."


"Just that; I suppose when they are used to it they get introduced backwards and forwards, and then they can know each other as fast as they like.


If you would wish to dance why won't you dance with me?"

"If you wish to dance why won't you dance with me?"


"I have danced with you,--twice already."


"Is there any law against dancing three times?"


"But I don't especially want to dance," said Henrietta.


"I think I'll go and console poor mamma, who has got nobody to speak to her."


Just at this moment, however, Lady Carbury was not in that wretched condition, as an unexpected friend had come to her relief.

Just at this moment, however, an unexpected friend had come to Lady Carbury's relief.


Sir Felix and Marie Melmotte had been spinning round and round throughout a long waltz, thoroughly enjoying the excitement of the music and the movement.


To give Felix Carbury what little praise might be his due, it is necessary to say that he did not lack physical activity.

To give Felix Carbury what little praise might be his due, he did not lack physical activity.


He would dance, and ride, and shoot eagerly, with an animation that made him happy for the moment.


It was an affair not of thought or calculation, but of physical organisation.


And Marie Melmotte had been thoroughly happy.


She loved dancing with all her heart if she could only dance in a manner pleasant to herself.


She had been warned especially as to some men,--that she should not dance with them.

, although she had been warned that there were some men she should not dance with.


She had been almost thrown into Lord Nidderdale's arms, and had been prepared to take him at her father's bidding.

She had been prepared to take Lord Nidderdale at her father's bidding,


But she had never had the slightest pleasure in his society, and had only not been wretched because she had not as yet recognised that she had an identity of her own in the disposition of which she herself should have a voice.

but she had never had any pleasure in his society.


She certainly had never cared to dance with Lord Nidderdale.

She certainly had never cared to dance with him.


Lord Grasslough she had absolutely hated, though at first she had hardly dared to say so.


One or two others had been obnoxious to her in different ways, but they had passed on, or were passing on, out of her way.


There was no one at the present moment whom she had been commanded by her father to accept should an offer be made.


But she did like dancing with Sir Felix Carbury.


It was not only that the man was handsome but that he had a power of changing the expression of his countenance, a play of face, which belied altogether his real disposition.

Not only was the man handsome, but he had an expressive play of face which belied his real disposition.


He could seem to be hearty and true till the moment came in which he had really to expose his heart,--or to try to expose it.

He could seem to be hearty and true till the moment came to expose his heart - or to try to expose it.


Then he failed, knowing nothing about it.


But in the approaches to intimacy with a girl he could be very successful.


He had already nearly got beyond this with Marie Melmotte; but Marie was by no means quick in discovering his deficiencies.

; and Marie was slow to discover his deficiencies.


If she might be allowed to be wooed by Sir Felix Carbury, and to give herself to him, she thought that she would be contented.


"How well you dance," said Sir Felix, as soon as he had breath for speaking.


She spoke with a slightly foreign accent, which gave a little prettiness to her speech.


But nobody ever told me anything about myself."


"I should like to tell you everything about yourself, from the beginning to the end."


"I think I could make some good guesses.


I'll tell you what you would like best in all the world."


"Somebody that liked you best in all the world."


"How can you know, Miss Melmotte, but by believing?"


If a girl told me that she liked me better than any other girl, I should not know it, just because she said so.


"I shouldn't believe him a bit, and I should not care to find out.

"I shouldn't believe him, and I should not care to find out.


But I should like to have some girl for a friend whom I could love, oh, ten times better than myself."


"I mean a girl whom I could love,--oh, ten times better than myself."

"I mean a girl whom I could love - oh, ten times better than myself."


"Now you are laughing at me, Sir Felix," said Miss Melmotte.


"I wonder whether that will come to anything?"


They had come back into the drawing-room, and had been watching the approaches to love-making which the baronet was opening.

They had come back into the drawing-room, and had been watching this.


I hate to think of such things, Mr. Montague."


"It would be a magnificent chance for him."


"To marry a girl, the daughter of vulgar people, just because she will have a great deal of money?

"To marry the daughter of vulgar people, just because she will have money?" said Hetta.


He can't care for her really,--because she is rich."


It seems to me that there is no other condition of things under which Felix can face the world, but by being the husband of an heiress."

It seems to me that there is no other solution for Felix than to marry an heiress."


"And he will beggar you and your mother."


As he said this he did not look at her, but spoke through his teeth, as if he were angry both with himself and her.

Paul spoke through his teeth, as if he were angry.


"I did not think you would have spoken so harshly of Felix."


"I don't speak harshly of him, Miss Carbury.


I haven't said that it was his own fault.


He seems to be one of those who have been born to spend money; and as this girl will have plenty of money to spend, I think it would be a good thing if he were to marry her."


If Felix had 20,000 a year, everybody would think him the finest fellow in the world."


In saying this, however, Mr. Paul Montague showed himself unfit to gauge the opinion of the world.


Whether Sir Felix be rich or poor, the world, evil-hearted as it is, will never think him a fine fellow.


Lady Carbury had been seated for nearly half an hour in uncomplaining solitude under a bust, when she was delighted by the appearance of Mr. Ferdinand Alf.

Lady Carbury had been seated for nearly half an hour in uncomplaining solitude, when she was delighted by the appearance of Mr. Ferdinand Alf.


Melmotte and I are brother adventurers."


"I should have thought you would find so little here to amuse you."

"I should have thought you would find little here to amuse you."


"I have found you; and, in addition to that, duchesses and their daughters without number.

"I have found you; and, in addition, duchesses and their daughters without number.


"And Legge Wilson from the India Office is here already.


I spoke to him in some jewelled bower as I made my way here, not five minutes since.


Don't you think it very nice, Lady Carbury?"


"I don't know whether you are joking or in earnest."

"I don't know whether you are joking or not."


These people are spending thousands upon thousands to gratify you and me and others, and all they want in return is a little countenance."

These people are spending thousands upon thousands to gratify you and me and others, and all they want in return is a little attention."


"Ah;--but the countenance of the 'Evening Pulpit.'

"Ah; the attention of the Evening Pulpit.


"Well; it is not in our line exactly to give a catalogue of names and to record ladies' dresses.

"Well; it is not in our line exactly to give a catalogue of names and ladies' dresses.


Perhaps it may be better for our host himself that he should be kept out of the newspapers."

Perhaps it may be better for our host that he should be kept out of the newspapers."


"Are you going to be very severe upon poor me, Mr. Alf?"


"We are never severe upon anybody, Lady Carbury.


What will they do with him now they've caught him!

What will they do with him now they've caught him?


Oh, they're going to make him dance with the heiress.


She's a nice little girl enough, and he'll have nothing to trouble him.


But how is she, poor thing, to talk to royal blood?"


The Prince was brought into the big room where Marie was still being talked to by Felix Carbury, and was at once made to understand that she was to stand up and dance with royalty.

The Prince was brought into the room where Marie was with Felix Carbury, and she was informed by Miles Grendall that she was to stand up and dance with royalty.


The introduction was managed in a very business-like manner.


Miles Grendall first came in and found the female victim; the Duchess followed with the male victim.


Madame Melmotte, who had been on her legs till she was ready to sink, waddled behind, but was not allowed to take any part in the affair.


The band were playing a galop, but that was stopped at once, to the great confusion of the dancers.

The band were playing a gallop, but that was stopped at once, to the great confusion of the dancers.


In two minutes Miles Grendall had made up a set.


He stood up with his aunt, the Duchess, as vis-a-vis to Marie and the Prince, till, about the middle of the quadrille, Legge Wilson was found and made to take his place.

He stood up with his aunt, the Duchess, opposite Marie and the Prince.


Lord Buntingford had gone away; but then there were still present two daughters of the Duchess who were rapidly caught.

Two daughters of the Duchess were present


: Sir Felix Carbury, being good-looking and having a name, was made to dance with one of them, and Lord Grasslough with the other.


There were four other couples, all made up of titled people, as it was intended that this special dance should be chronicled, if not in the "Evening Pulpit," in some less serious daily journal.

There were four other couples, all made up of titled people, as it was intended that this special dance should be chronicled, if not in the Evening Pulpit, in some less serious journal.


A paid reporter was present in the house ready to rush off with the list as soon as the dance should be a realized fact.

A paid reporter was ready to rush off with the list as soon as the dance began.


The Prince himself did not quite understand why he was there, but they who marshalled his life for him had so marshalled it for the present moment.


He himself probably knew nothing about the lady's diamonds which had been rescued, or the considerable subscription to St. George's Hospital which had been extracted from Mr. Melmotte as a make-weight.

; he probably knew nothing about the lady's diamonds which had been rescued.


Poor Marie felt as though the burden of the hour would be greater than she could bear, and looked as though she would have fled had flight been possible.

Poor Marie looked as though she would have fled had flight been possible.


But the trouble passed quickly, and was not really severe.


The Prince said a word or two between each figure, and did not seem to expect a reply.

The Prince said a word or two, and did not seem to expect a reply.


He made a few words go a long way, and was well trained in the work of easing the burden of his own greatness for those who were for the moment inflicted with it.


When the dance was over he was allowed to escape after the ceremony of a single glass of champagne drank in the presence of the hostess.

When the dance was over he was allowed to escape after the ceremony of a single glass of champagne drunk with the hostess.


Considerable skill was shown in keeping the presence of his royal guest a secret from the host himself till the Prince was gone.

The presence of his royal guest was kept secret from the host himself till the Prince was gone.


Melmotte would have desired to pour out that glass of wine with his own hands, to solace his tongue by Royal Highnesses, and would probably have been troublesome and disagreeable.

Melmotte would have desired to pour out that glass of wine with his own hands, and would probably have been troublesome and disagreeable.


Miles Grendall had understood all this and had managed the affair very well.


"Bless my soul;--his Royal Highness come and gone!"

"Bless my soul - his Royal Highness come and gone!"


"You and my father were so fast at your whist that it was impossible to get you away," said Miles.

"You and my father were so absorbed at your whist that it was impossible to get you away," said Miles.


Melmotte was not a fool, and understood it all;--understood not only that it had been thought better that he should not speak to the Prince, but also that it might be better that it should be so.

Melmotte was not a fool, and understood that it had been thought better that he should not speak to the Prince, but also that it might be better that it should be so.


Miles Grendall was very useful to him, and he would not quarrel with Miles, at any rate as yet.

Miles Grendall was very useful to him, and he would not quarrel with him just yet.


[Illustration: The Duchess followed with the male victim.]


he said to Miles's father as the carriages were taking away the guests.


Lord Alfred had taken sundry glasses of champagne, and for a moment forgot the bills in the safe, and the good things which his boys were receiving.


Then he left the house without a further word to the master of it.


That night before they went to sleep Melmotte required from his weary wife an account of the ball, and especially of Marie's conduct.

That night before they went to sleep Melmotte required from his weary wife an account of the ball, and of Marie's conduct.


"Marie," Madame Melmotte said, "had behaved well, but had certainly preferred 'Sir Carbury' to any other of the young men."

"Marie," Madame Melmotte said, "behaved well, but certainly preferred 'Sir Carbury' to any other of the young men."


Hitherto Mr. Melmotte had heard very little of "Sir Carbury," except that he was a baronet.


Though his eyes and ears were always open, though he attended to everything, and was a man of sharp intelligence, he did not yet quite understand the bearing and sequence of English titles.

Though he was a man of sharp intelligence, he did not yet understand the bearing and sequence of English titles.


He knew that he must get for his daughter either an eldest son, or one absolutely in possession himself.

He knew that he must get for his daughter either an eldest son, or one in possession of a title.


Sir Felix, he had learned, was only a baronet; but then he was in possession.


He had discovered also that Sir Felix's son would in course of time also become Sir Felix.

his son would in course of time also become Sir Felix.


He was not therefore at the present moment disposed to give any positive orders as to his daughter's conduct to the young baronet.

Melmotte was not disposed to give any positive orders as to his daughter's conduct to the young baronet.


He did not, however, conceive that the young baronet had as yet addressed his girl in such words as Felix had in truth used when they parted.

He did not, however, imagine that the young baronet had addressed his girl in the way Felix had when they parted.


"You know who it is," he whispered, "likes you better than any one else in the world."

"You know who it is," he whispered, "likes you better than anyone else in the world."


"I do," he said as he held her hand for a minute.


He looked into her face and she thought it very sweet.


He had studied the words as a lesson, and, repeating them as a lesson, he did it fairly well.

He had studied the words, and, repeating them as a lesson, he did it fairly well.


He did it well enough at any rate to send the poor girl to bed with a sweet conviction that at last a man had spoken to her whom she could love.


Ruby had run away from her lover in great dudgeon after the dance at the Music Hall, and had declared that she never wanted to see him again.


But when reflection came with the morning her misery was stronger than her wrath.


What would life be to her now without her lover?


When she escaped from her grandfather's house she certainly had not intended to become nurse and assistant maid-of-all-work at a London lodging-house.

When she escaped from her grandfather's house she had not intended to become maid-of-all-work at a London lodging-house.


The daily toil she could endure, and the hard life, as long as she was supported by the prospect of some coming delight.

The daily toil she could endure, as long as she was supported by the prospect of some coming delight


A dance with Felix at the Music Hall, though it were three days distant from her, would so occupy her mind that she could wash and dress all the children without complaint.

- like a dance with Felix at the Music Hall.


Mrs. Pipkin was forced to own to herself that Ruby did earn her bread.


But when she had parted with her lover almost on an understanding that they were never to meet again, things were very different with her.

But when she had parted with her lover almost on an understanding that they were never to meet again, things were very different.


A gentleman like Sir Felix did not of course like to be told about marriage.

A gentleman like Sir Felix did not like to be told about marriage.


If she gave him another chance, perhaps he would speak.


At any rate she could not live without another dance.


Ruby was glib enough with her pen, though what she wrote will hardly bear repeating.


She underscored the expression of her regret if she had vexed him.


But she did want to have another dance at the Music Hall.


Sir Felix sent her a very short reply to say that he would be at the Music Hall on the Tuesday.

Sir Felix sent her a very short reply to say that he would be at the Music Hall on Tuesday.


As at this time he proposed to leave London on the Wednesday on his way to New York, he was proposing to devote his very last night to the companionship of Ruby Ruggles.

As he planned to leave London on the Wednesday on his way to New York, he was proposing to devote his very last night to the companionship of Ruby Ruggles.


Mrs. Pipkin had never interfered with her niece's letters.


It is certainly a part of the new dispensation that young women shall send and receive letters without inspection.


But since Roger Carbury's visit Mrs. Pipkin had watched the postman, and had also watched her niece.

But since Roger Carbury's visit she had watched the postman, and had also watched her niece.


For nearly a week Ruby said not a word of going out at night.


She took the children for an airing in a broken perambulator, nearly as far as Holloway, with exemplary care, and washed up the cups and saucers as though her mind was intent upon them.

She took the children for an airing with exemplary care, and washed the cups and saucers diligently.


But Mrs. Pipkin's mind was intent on obeying Mr. Carbury's behests.

But Mrs. Pipkin was intent on obeying Mr. Carbury's requests.


She had already hinted something as to which Ruby had made no answer.


It was her purpose to tell her and to swear to her most solemnly,--should she find her preparing herself to leave the house after six in the evening,--that she should be kept out the whole night, having a purpose equally clear in her own mind that she would break her oath should she be unsuccessful in her effort to keep Ruby at home.

decided to tell Ruby most solemnly, if she found her preparing to leave the house in the evening, that she should be kept out the whole night.


But on the Tuesday, when Ruby went up to her room to deck herself, a bright idea as to a better precaution struck Mrs. Pipkin's mind.

On the Tuesday, when Ruby went up to her room to deck herself,


Ruby had been careless,--had left her lover's scrap of a note in an old pocket when she went out with the children, and Mrs. Pipkin knew all about it.

she had been careless - she had left her lover's scrap of a note behind when she went out with the children, and Mrs. Pipkin knew all about it.


It was nine o'clock when Ruby went up-stairs,--and then Mrs. Pipkin locked both the front door and the area gate.

It was nine o'clock when Ruby went upstairs; and Mrs. Pipkin locked both the front door and the area gate.


Mrs. Hurtle had come home on the previous day.


"You won't be wanting to go out to-night;--will you, Mrs. Hurtle?"

"You won't be wanting to go out tonight, will you, Mrs. Hurtle?"


said Mrs. Pipkin, knocking at her lodger's door.


Mrs. Hurtle declared her purpose of remaining at home all the evening.

Mrs. Hurtle declared her intention of remaining at home all evening.


"If you should hear words between me and my niece, don't you mind, ma'am."


"I hope there's nothing wrong, Mrs. Pipkin?"


"She'll be wanting to go out, and I won't have it.


She's a good girl; but they've got such a way nowadays of doing just as they pleases, that one doesn't know what's going to come next."

She's a good girl; but they've got such a way nowadays of doing just as they pleases, that one doesn't know what's coming next."


Mrs. Pipkin must have feared downright rebellion when she thus took her lodger into her confidence.


Ruby came down in her silk frock, as she had done before, and made her usual little speech.

Ruby came down in her silk frock, and made her usual speech.


"I'm just going to step out, aunt, for a little time to-night.

"I'm just going to step out, aunt, for a little time tonight.


I've got the key, and I'll let myself in quite quiet."

I've got the key, and I'll let myself in quiet."


"Indeed, Ruby, you won't," said Mrs. Pipkin.


If you go out to-night you won't come back here any more.


I won't have it, and it isn't right that I should.


You're going after that young man that they tell me is the greatest scamp in all England."


No girl is going out any more at nights out of my house; so that's all about it.

No girl is going out any more at nights out of my house; so that's it.


If you had told me you was going before, you needn't have gone up and bedizened yourself.


She had expected some opposition,--what she would have called a few words; but she had never imagined that her aunt would threaten to keep her in the streets all night.

She had expected some opposition; but she had never imagined that her aunt would threaten to keep her in the streets all night.


It seemed to her that she had bought the privilege of amusing herself by hard work.


Nor did she believe now that her aunt would be as hard as her threat.

Nor did she believe her aunt would be as hard as her threat.


"I've a right to go if I like," she said.


You haven't a right to come back again, any way."

"You haven't a right to come back again."


I've worked for you a deal harder than the girl down-stairs, and I don't want no wages.


I've a right to go out, and a right to come back;--and go I shall."

I've a right to go out - and go I shall."


"You'll be no better than you should be, if you do."


"Am I to work my very nails off, and push that perambulator about all day till my legs won't carry me,--and then I ain't to go out, not once in a week?"

"Am I to work my very nails off, and then I ain't to go out, not once a week?"


I won't have you go and throw yourself into the gutter;--not while you're with me."

"I won't have you go and throw yourself into the gutter, Ruby - not while you're with me."


"Who's throwing themselves into the gutter?


"There's two of us that way, Ruby;--for I know what I'm about."


"You won't get out that way, any way, for the door's locked;--and the area gate.

"You won't get out that way, for the door's locked; and the area gate.


You'd better be said, Ruby, and just take your things off."

You'd better just take your things off, Ruby."


Poor Ruby for the moment was struck dumb with mortification.

Poor Ruby for the moment was struck dumb.


Mrs. Pipkin had given her credit for more outrageous perseverance than she possessed, and had feared that she would rattle at the front door, or attempt to climb over the area gate.

Mrs. Pipkin had feared that she would try to climb over the area gate, for


She was a little afraid of Ruby, not feeling herself justified in holding absolute dominion over her as over a servant.


And though she was now determined in her conduct,--being fully resolved to surrender neither of the keys which she held in her pocket,--still she feared that she might so far collapse as to fall away into tears, should Ruby be violent.


Her lover would be there to meet her, and the appointment would be broken by her!

Her lover would be there to meet her, and she would not turn up!


"Aunt Pipkin," she said, "let me go just this once."


"You don't know what you're a' doing of, aunt; you don't.

"You don't know what you're doing, aunt.


I'll never ask again, if you don't like."


Mrs. Pipkin had not expected this, and was almost willing to yield.


But Mr. Carbury had spoken so very plainly!


"It ain't the thing, Ruby; and I won't do it."


I don't believe as you've any right to lock me up."


The door will be open to-morrow, if you choose to go out."

The door will be open, if you choose to go."


But Mrs. Pipkin was stern, and Ruby, in a flood of tears, took herself up to her garret.


Mrs. Pipkin knocked at Mrs. Hurtle's door again.


There wasn't any noise about it;--was there?"


"Not as I expected, Mrs. Hurtle, certainly.


I've been a girl too, and used to like a bit of outing as well as any one,--and a dance too; only it was always when mother knew.


And she's got it into her head that she's that pretty that a great gentleman will marry her."

And she's got it into her head that a great gentleman will marry her.


It's no more nor skin deep, as the scriptures tell us.


And what'd a grand gentleman see in Ruby to marry her?

But what'd a grand gentleman see in Ruby to marry her?


After this gentleman,--and you know what that means!

After this gentleman - and you know what that means!


You're going to be married yourself, Mrs. Hurtle."


"We won't mind about that now, Mrs. Pipkin."


"And this 'll be your second, and you know how these things are managed.

"But you know how these things are managed.


No gentleman 'll marry her because she runs after him.

No gentleman'll marry her because she runs after him.


Girls as knows what they're about should let the gentlemen run after them.

Girls should let the gentlemen run after them.


"Don't you think they should be equal in that respect?"


"Anyways the girls shouldn't let on as they are running after the gentlemen.

Or anyways the girls shouldn't let on as they are running after the gentlemen.


A gentleman goes here and he goes there, and he speaks up free, of course.


But then, maybe, I'm old-fashioned," added Mrs. Pipkin, thinking of the new dispensation.

But then, maybe, I'm old-fashioned," added Mrs. Pipkin.


"I suppose girls do speak for themselves more than they did formerly."


"A deal more, Mrs. Hurtle; quite different.


You hear them talk of spooning with this fellow, and spooning with that fellow,--and that before their very fathers and mothers!


When I was young we used to do it, I suppose,--only not like that."


"I think we got married quicker than they do, any way.


When the gentlemen had to take more trouble they thought more about it.


But if you wouldn't mind speaking to Ruby to-morrow, Mrs. Hurtle, she'd listen to you when she wouldn't mind a word I said to her.

"But if you wouldn't mind speaking to Ruby tomorrow, Mrs. Hurtle, she'd listen to you.


I don't want her to go away from this, out into the street, till she knows where she's to go to, decent.

I don't want her to go out into the street, till she knows where she's to go to."


As for going to her young man,--that's just walking the streets."


Mrs. Hurtle promised that she would speak to Ruby, though when making the promise she could not but think of her unfitness for the task.

Mrs. Hurtle promised that she would speak to Ruby, though she could not help thinking of her unfitness for the task.


She had not a single friend in it, but Paul Montague;--and she had run after him with as little discretion as Ruby Ruggles was showing in running after her lover.

She had not a single friend in it but Paul Montague; and she had run after him with as little discretion as Ruby Ruggles.


Who was she that she should take upon herself to give advice to any female?


She had not sent her letter to Paul, but she still kept it in her pocket-book.

She had not sent her letter to Paul, but still kept it in her pocket-book.


At some moments she thought that she would send it; and at others she told herself that she would never surrender this last hope till every stone had been turned.


It might still be possible to shame him into a marriage.

it might still be possible to shame him into a marriage.


She had returned from Lowestoft on the Monday, and had made some trivial excuse to Mrs. Pipkin in her mildest voice.


The place had been windy, and too cold for her;--and she had not liked the hotel.

The place had been windy, and too cold; and she had not liked the hotel.


Mrs. Pipkin was very glad to see her back again.


Paul Montague had other troubles on his mind beyond this trouble of the Mexican Railway.

Paul Montague had other troubles on his mind.


It was now more than a fortnight since he had taken Mrs. Hurtle to the play, and she was still living in lodgings at Islington.

It was now more than a fortnight since he had taken Mrs. Hurtle to the play.


He had seen her twice, once on the following day, when he was allowed to come and go without any special reference to their engagement, and again, three or four days afterwards, when the meeting was by no means so pleasant.

He had seen her twice since, once on the following day, when she had not mentioned their engagement, and again, three or four days afterwards, when the meeting was by no means so pleasant.


She had wept, and after weeping had stormed.


She had stood upon what she called her rights, and had dared him to be false to her.


Did he mean to deny that he had promised to marry her?

Did he deny that he had promised to marry her?


Was not his conduct to her, ever since she had now been in London, a repetition of that promise?

Were his visits not a repetition of that promise?


And then again she became soft, and pleaded with him.


But for the storm he might have given way.

But for the storm, he might have given way.


At that moment he had felt that any fate in life would be better than a marriage on compulsion.


Her tears and her pleadings, nevertheless, touched him very nearly.


The very violence of the storm made the sunshine more sweet.


She would sit down on a stool at his feet, and it was impossible to drive her away from him.

It was impossible to drive her away from him.


She would look up in his face and he could not but embrace her.

She would look up in his face and he could not help embracing her.


Then there had come a passionate flood of tears and she was in his arms.


How he had escaped he hardly knew, but he did know that he had promised to be with her again before two days should have passed.

How he had escaped he hardly knew, but he did know that he had promised to be with her again in two days.


On the day named he wrote to her a letter excusing himself, which was at any rate true in words.

On the day he wrote her a letter excusing himself.


He had been summoned, he said, to Liverpool on business, and must postpone seeing her till his return.

He had been summoned, he said, to Liverpool on business connected with the great American railway, and must postpone seeing her till his return.


And he explained that the business on which he was called was connected with the great American railway, and, being important, demanded his attention.


He had been corresponding with a gentleman at Liverpool with whom he had become acquainted on his return home after having involuntarily become a partner in the house of Fisker, Montague, and Montague.

He had been corresponding with a Mr. Ramsbottom at Liverpool since having become a partner in the house of Fisker, Montague, and Montague.


This man he trusted and had consulted, and the gentleman, Mr. Ramsbottom by name, had suggested that he should come to him at Liverpool.

Mr. Ramsbottom, whom he consulted and trusted, had suggested that he should come to him at Liverpool.


He had gone, and his conduct at the Board had been the result of the advice which he had received; but it may be doubted whether some dread of the coming interview with Mrs. Hurtle had not added strength to Mr. Ramsbottom's invitation.

He went, and his conduct at the Board was the result of the advice which he had received.


In Liverpool he had heard tidings of Mrs. Hurtle, though it can hardly be said that he obtained any trustworthy information.

In Liverpool he heard tidings of Mrs. Hurtle, though hardly trustworthy information.


The lady after landing from an American steamer had been at Mr. Ramsbottom's office, inquiring for him, Paul; and Mr. Ramsbottom had thought that the inquiries were made in a manner indicating danger.

The lady, after landing from an American steamer, had inquired for Paul, in a manner that Mr. Ramsbottom thought indicated danger.


He therefore had spoken to a fellow-traveller with Mrs. Hurtle, and the fellow-traveller had opined that Mrs. Hurtle was "a queer card."

He had spoken about her with a fellow-traveller, who had said that Mrs. Hurtle was "a queer card."


"On board ship we all gave it up to her that she was about the handsomest woman we had ever seen, but we all said that there was a bit of the wild cat in her breeding."

"On board ship we reckoned she was about the handsomest woman we had ever seen, but we all said that there was a bit of the wild cat in her breeding."


Then Mr. Ramsbottom had asked whether the lady was a widow.


"There was a man on board from Kansas," said the fellow-traveller, "who knew a man named Hurtle at Leavenworth, who was separated from his wife and is still alive.

"There was a man on board from Kansas," said the fellow-traveller, "who knew a man named Hurtle, who was separated from his wife and is still alive.


There was, according to him, a queer story about the man and his wife having fought a duel with pistols, and then having separated."

There was a queer story about the man and his wife having fought a duel with pistols."


This Mr. Ramsbottom, who in an earlier stage of the affair had heard something of Paul and Mrs. Hurtle together, managed to communicate to the young man.


His advice about the railway company was very clear and general, and such as an honest man would certainly give; but it might have been conveyed by letter.


The information, such as it was, respecting Mrs. Hurtle, could only be given viv voce, and perhaps the invitation to Liverpool had originated in Mr. Ramsbottom's appreciation of this fact.

This information about Mrs. Hurtle could only be given to Paul face to face, which is why Mr. Ramsbottom had invited him to Liverpool.


"As she was asking after you here, perhaps it is as well that you should know," his friend said to him.

"It is as well that you should know," his friend said to him.


Paul had only thanked him, not daring on the spur of the moment to speak of his own difficulties.

Paul had thanked him, not daring to speak of his own difficulties with the lady.


In all this there had been increased dismay, but there had also been some comfort.

In all this there had been increased dismay, but also some comfort.


It had only been at moments in which he had been subject to her softer influences that Paul had doubted as to his adherence to the letter which he had written to her, breaking off his engagement.

Sometimes Paul had doubted whether he should break off his engagement.


When she told him of her wrongs and of her love; of his promise and his former devotion to her; when she assured him that she had given up everything in life for him, and threw her arms round him, looking into his eyes;--then he would almost yield.

When she assured him that she had given up everything in life for him, and threw her arms round him - then he would almost yield.


But when, what the traveller called the breeding of the wild cat, showed itself;--and when, having escaped from her, he thought of Hetta Carbury and of her breeding,--he was fully determined that, let his fate be what it might, it should not be that of being the husband of Mrs. Hurtle.

But when what the traveller had called the wild cat showed itself - and when, having escaped from her, he thought of Hetta Carbury - he was fully determined that he would not marry Mrs. Hurtle.


That he was in a mass of troubles from which it would be very difficult for him to extricate himself he was well aware;--but if it were true that Mr. Hurtle was alive, that fact might help him.

That he was tangled in a mass of troubles he was well aware; but if it were true that Mr. Hurtle was alive, that fact might help him.


She certainly had declared him to be,--not separated, or even divorced,--but dead.

She certainly had declared him to be dead.


And if it were true also that she had fought a duel with one husband, that also ought to be a reason why a gentleman should object to become her second husband.


These facts would at any rate justify himself to himself, and would enable himself to break from his engagement without thinking himself to be a false traitor.

justify him in breaking from his engagement.


But he must make up his mind as to some line of conduct.


If he meant to reject the lady finally on the score of her being a wild cat, he must tell her so.


He felt very strongly that he must not flinch from the wild cat's claws.


That he would have to undergo some severe handling, an amount of clawing which might perhaps go near his life, he could perceive.

That he would have to undergo some mauling and clawing, he understood.


Having done what he had done he would have no right to shrink from such usage.


He must tell her to her face that he was not satisfied with her past life, and that therefore he would not marry her.


Of course he might write to her;--but when summoned to her presence he would be unable to excuse himself, even to himself, for not going.


It was his misfortune,--and also his fault,--that he had submitted to be loved by a wild cat.


But it might be well that before he saw her he should get hold of information that might have the appearance of real evidence.

But before he saw her it would be as well to get some real evidence.


He returned from Liverpool to London on the morning of the Friday on which the Board was held, and thought even more of all this than he did of the attack which he was prepared to make on Mr. Melmotte.

He returned from Liverpool to London on the morning on which the Board was held, and thought even more of all this than he did of his attack on Mr. Melmotte.


If he could come across that traveller he might learn something.


The husband's name had been Caradoc Carson Hurtle.


If Caradoc Carson Hurtle had been seen in the State of Kansas within the last two years, that certainly would be sufficient evidence.

If he had been seen in the State of Kansas within the last two years, that certainly would be evidence.


As to the duel he felt that it might be very hard to prove that, and that if proved, it might be hard to found upon the fact any absolute right on his part to withdraw from the engagement.

As to the duel, he felt that it might be very hard to prove that.


But there was a rumour also, though not corroborated during his last visit to Liverpool, that she had shot a gentleman in Oregon.

But there was a rumour also that she had shot a gentleman in Oregon.


Could he get at the truth of that story?


If they were all true, surely he could justify himself to himself.


But this detective's work was very distasteful to him.

However, this detective's work was very distasteful to him.


After having had the woman in his arms how could he undertake such inquiries as these?

After having had the woman in his arms how could he make such inquiries?


And it would be almost necessary that he should take her in his arms again while he was making them,--unless indeed he made them with her knowledge.

And it would be almost necessary that he should take her in his arms again while he was making them, unless he told her outright that he would not marry her because of what he had heard.


Was it not his duty, as a man, to tell everything to herself?


To speak to her thus;--"I am told that your life with your last husband was, to say the least of it, eccentric; that you even fought a duel with him.


I could not marry a woman who had fought a duel,--certainly not a woman who had fought with her own husband.


I am told also that you shot another gentleman in Oregon.


It may well be that the gentleman deserved to be shot; but there is something in the deed so repulsive to me,--no doubt irrationally,--that, on that score also, I must decline to marry you.


I am told also that Mr. Hurtle has been seen alive quite lately.


I had understood from you that he is dead.


But as I should not have engaged myself to you had I known the truth, so now I consider myself justified in absolving myself from an engagement which was based on a misconception."


It would no doubt be difficult to get through all these details; but it might be accomplished gradually,--unless in the process of doing so he should incur the fate of the gentleman in Oregon.

In so doing he might incur the fate of the gentleman in Oregon.


At any rate he would declare to her as well as he could the ground on which he claimed a right to consider himself free, and would bear the consequences.

At any rate he would declare the ground on which he considered himself free, and would bear the consequences.


Such was the resolve which he made on his journey up from Liverpool, and that trouble was also on his mind when he rose up to attack Mr. Melmotte single-handed at the Board.

This was the resolve in his mind when he rose up to attack Mr. Melmotte at the Board.


When the Board was over, he also went down to the Beargarden.

When the Board was over, he went down to the Beargarden


Perhaps, with reference to the Board, the feeling which hurt him most was the conviction that he was spending money which he would never have had to spend had there been no Board.


He had been twitted with this at the Board-meeting, and had justified himself by referring to the money which had been invested in the Company of Fisker, Montague, and Montague, which money was now supposed to have been made over to the railway.


But the money which he was spending had come to him after a loose fashion, and he knew that if called upon for an account, he could hardly make out one which would be square and intelligible to all parties.


Nevertheless he spent much of his time at the Beargarden, dining there when no engagement carried him elsewhere.


On this evening he joined his table with Nidderdale's, at the young lord's instigation.

This evening he sat with Nidderdale, at the young lord's instigation.