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

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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

The poor woman sat down, overcome by her feelings.


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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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

Chapter 18: Ruby Ruggles Hears a Love Tale


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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


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

Once Felix had ridden over with Roger to call on the old man, and had then first seen Ruby; and had heard from Roger that she was to marry John Crumb.


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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


Her education has been much better than that of the man. She can read, whereas he can only spell words from a book.

Her education has been much better than his: she can read, whereas he can only spell words from a book.


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

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


Her tongue is more glib, and her intellect sharper.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


The danger for the most part is soon over. The girl marries after her kind, and then husband and children put the matter at rest for ever.

The danger for the most part is soon over: the girl marries one of her own kind, and the matter is at rest.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


The meal had so gotten within his hair, and skin, and raiment, that it never came out altogether even on Sundays. His normal complexion was a healthy pallor, through which indeed some records of hidden ruddiness would make themselves visible, but which was so judiciously assimilated to his hat and coat and waistcoat, that he was more like a stout ghost than a healthy young man.

The meal had got within his hair, and skin, and clothes, so that he looked more like a stout ghost than a healthy young man.


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

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


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

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


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

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


But, though she was an utter fool, she was not a fool without a principle. She was miserably ignorant; but she did understand that there was a degradation which it behoved her to avoid.

But though she was an utter fool, and miserably ignorant, she did understand that there was a degradation which she needed to avoid.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


He had not stood long before he saw the girl's bonnet beneath a tree standing just outside the wood, in the meadow, but on the bank of the ditch. Thinking for a moment what he would do about his horse, he rode him into the field, and then, dismounting, fastened him to a rail which ran down the side of the copse. Then he sauntered on till he stood looking down upon Ruby Ruggles as she sat beneath the tree.

When he saw the girl's bonnet, he dismounted, fastened his horse to a rail, and sauntered on till he stood looking down upon Ruby Ruggles as she sat beneath the tree.


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


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

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


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

And grandfather is almost sure to see 'em.


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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


Nobody was like Roger Carbury! Would it not be well that he should go away, and, as he went, write to Hetta and bid her marry the best man that ever lived in the world?

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


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


He had repudiated the proposition and had quarrelled with Melmotte.


It was necessary that he should immediately take some further step in regard to Mrs. Hurtle. Twice lately he had gone to Islington determined that he would see that lady for the last time. Then he had taken her to Lowestoft, and had been equally firm in his resolution that he would there put an end to his present bonds. Now he had promised to go again to Islington;--and was aware that if he failed to keep his promise, she would come to him.

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


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


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

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


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


This was his plain tale as he now told it.


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

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


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

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


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

I do not mean to justify my own conduct.


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

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


They are now what I found them to be then.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

I cannot blame you for the step you have taken.


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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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

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


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


I think that our further meeting can avail nothing.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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


Had she found him ruined and penniless she would have delighted to share with him all that she possessed. Had she found him a cripple, or blind, or miserably struck with some disease, she would have stayed by him and have nursed him and given him comfort.

Had he been ruined, or blind, or crippled, she would have stayed by him and have given him comfort.


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


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

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


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

But to sacrifice herself by going away was too much.


What woman can endure such sacrifice as that?


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

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


The idea of being tame was terrible to her.


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

She had always protected herself by her own spirit.


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


Should she be weaker even than an English girl?


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


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


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

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


And so she gave play to all her strongest feelings on the other side,--being in truth torn in two directions. Then she sat herself down to her desk, and with rapid words, and flashing thoughts, wrote as follows:--

And so she sat down, and wrote rapidly as follows:


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

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


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


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


Even Caradoc Hurtle never premeditated such wrong as this.

Even poor Caradoc Hurtle never premeditated such wrong as this.


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

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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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


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

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


And now you know the welcome you shall find.

Now you know the welcome you shall find.


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


This letter duly reached Paul Montague at his lodgings.

This letter reached Paul Montague at his lodgings.


He started immediately for Islington. He had now no desire to delay the meeting.

He started immediately for Islington, having no desire to delay the meeting.


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


He had declared his purpose plainly enough at Lowestoft,--and plainly enough in his last letter. She had told him down at the hotel, that had she by chance have been armed at the moment, she would have shot him. She could arm herself now if she pleased;--but his real fear had not lain in that direction. The pang consisted in having to assure her that he was resolved to do her wrong.

He had declared his purpose plainly, and she could arm herself if she pleased; but he had now told her that he was resolved to do her wrong.


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

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


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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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


My wishes do not seem to affect you much.


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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


"But I should not. I at least will be true.


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

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


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

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


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

There was nothing to be said in answer to this.


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


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


I have no home. Mrs. Pipkin's room here is more my home than any other spot on the earth.


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


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


There was no answer possible to all this.


The questions were asked because there was no answer possible.


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

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


But you know that I cannot answer your questions."


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


I could not send them all by post, together.


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


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


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


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


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


"You ask me questions which I cannot answer.


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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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


That men may be attracted, I should say.


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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


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

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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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

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


"I wonder whether that other woman loves you.


She took his hand and pressed it to her breast.


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

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


You shall be troubled no more with Winifrid Hurtle."


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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


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


But it is so. I was engaged to him."
"I'm well sure of that, Mrs. Hurtle."
"And now I'm no longer engaged to him.


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


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


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

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


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


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

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


"There's an end of it, Mrs. Pipkin. If you please, we won't say anything more about it."

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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


It may be said of him that he had been quite sharp enough to perceive the whole truth. He did really know it all,--if he could prove that which he knew.

He had been quite sharp enough to perceive the whole truth - he needed only to prove it.


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

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


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

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


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


The stockbroker made also some few enquiries, and on that evening agreed with Squercum that Melmotte was a "gone coon." If such were the case it would positively be the making of Squercum if it could be so managed that he should appear as the destroying angel of this offensive dragon.

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


So Squercum raged among the Bideawhiles, who were unable altogether to shut their doors against him. They could not dare to bid defiance to Squercum,--feeling that they had themselves blundered, and feeling also that they must be careful not to seem to screen a fault by a falsehood.

So Squercum raged among the Bideawhiles, who did not dare defy him - feeling that they had themselves blundered.


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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


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

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


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


"Well;--it didn't reach you in a very confirmatory manner. We'll just say that. What Mr. Longestaffe can have been at to wish to give up his title-deeds without getting anything for them--"

"Well, it didn't reach you direct from Mr. Longstaffe. And why he would wish to give up his title-deeds without getting anything for them-"


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


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

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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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


If I understand, Mr. Longestaffe says that he locked the letter up in a drawer in the very room which Melmotte occupied, and that he afterwards found the drawer open.

And Mr. Longestaffe says that he locked the letter up in a drawer in the room which Melmotte occupied, and afterwards found the drawer open.


It won't, I suppose, be alleged that my client knew so little what he was about that he broke open the drawer in order that he might get at the letter.


Look at it whichever way you will, he did not sign it, Mr. Bideawhile."


All I say is that we had fair ground for supposing that it was his letter.


I really don't know that I can say anything more."


"Only that we are to a certain degree in the same boat together in this matter."


"I won't admit even that, Mr. Squercum."


"The difference being that your client by his fault has jeopardised his own interests and those of my client, while my client has not been in fault at all.


I shall bring the matter forward before the Lord Mayor to-morrow, and as at present advised shall ask for an investigation with reference to a charge of fraud.

I shall bring the matter before the Lord Mayor tomorrow, you know, and ask for an investigation into fraud."


I presume you will be served with a subpoena to bring the letter into court."


"If so you may be sure that we shall produce it."


Then Mr. Squercum took his leave and went straight away to Mr. Bumby, a barrister well known in the City.

Then Mr. Squercum left and went straight to Mr. Bumby, a barrister well known in the City.


The game was too powerful to be hunted down by Mr. Squercum's unassisted hands.


He had already seen Mr. Bumby on the matter more than once.


Mr. Bumby was inclined to doubt whether it might not be better to get the money, or some guarantee for the money.


Mr. Bumby thought that if a bill at three months could be had for Dolly's share of the property it might be expedient to take it.

Mr. Bumby thought that if a bill at three months could be had for Dolly's share of the property it might be better to take it.


Mr. Squercum suggested that the property itself might be recovered, no genuine sale having been made. Mr. Bumby shook his head.

When Mr. Squercum suggested that the property itself might be recovered, no genuine sale having been made, Mr. Bumby shook his head.


"Title-deeds give possession, Mr. Squercum.


You don't suppose that the company which has lent money to Melmotte on the title-deeds would have to lose it.

The company which has lent money to Melmotte on the title-deeds will not give them up.


Take the bill; and if it is dishonoured run your chance of what you'll get out of the property."


"Every rap will have been made over," said Mr. Squercum.


This took place on the Monday, the day on which Melmotte had offered his full confidence to his proposed son-in-law. On the following Wednesday three gentlemen met together in the study in the house in Bruton Street from which it was supposed that the letter had been abstracted.

Two days later, three gentlemen met together in the study of the house in Bruton Street from which it was supposed that the letter had been taken.


There were Mr. Longestaffe, the father, Dolly Longestaffe, and Mr. Bideawhile.

They were Mr. Longestaffe senior, Dolly Longestaffe, and Mr. Bideawhile.


The house was still in Melmotte's possession, and Melmotte and Mr. Longestaffe were no longer on friendly terms. Direct application for permission to have this meeting in this place had been formally made to Mr. Melmotte, and he had complied.

The house was still in Melmotte's possession, and although he and Mr. Longestaffe were no longer on friendly terms, he had agreed to a formal request for this meeting.


The meeting took place at eleven o'clock--a terribly early hour.

It took place at eleven o'clock - a terribly early hour for Dolly.


Dolly had at first hesitated as to placing himself as he thought between the fire of two enemies, and Mr. Squercum had told him that as the matter would probably soon be made public, he could not judiciously refuse to meet his father and the old family lawyer.


Therefore Dolly had attended, at great personal inconvenience to himself.


"By George, it's hardly worth having if one is to take all this trouble about it," Dolly had said to Lord Grasslough, with whom he had fraternised since the quarrel with Nidderdale.

"By George, it's hardly worth having if one is to take all this trouble about it," Dolly had said to Lord Grasslough.


Dolly entered the room last, and at that time neither Mr. Longestaffe nor Mr. Bideawhile had touched the drawer, or even the table, in which the letter had been deposited.

He was the last to enter the room: neither Mr. Longestaffe nor Mr. Bideawhile had touched the drawer, or even the table.


"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," said Mr. Bideawhile, "perhaps you will show us where you think you put the letter."

"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," said Mr. Bideawhile, "show us where you think you put the letter."


"Since the matter has been discussed the whole thing has come back upon my memory."


"I never signed it," said Dolly, standing with his hands in his pockets and interrupting his father.


"Nobody says you did, sir," rejoined the father with an angry voice.

"Nobody says you did, sir," rejoined the father angrily.


"If you will condescend to listen we may perhaps arrive at the truth."


I've been told that Mr. Bideawhile says so."


We have only said that we had no reason for supposing the letter to be other than genuine.


"Nothing on earth would have made me sign it," said Dolly.


"Why should I have given my property up before I got my money?


The father looked up at the lawyer and shook his head, testifying as to the hopelessness of his son's obstinacy.


"Now, Mr. Longestaffe," continued the lawyer, "let us see where you put the letter."


Then the father very slowly, and with much dignity of deportment, opened the drawer,--the second drawer from the top, and took from it a bundle of papers very carefully folded and docketed.

The father very slowly opened the second drawer from the top, and took from it a bundle of folded papers.


"There," said he, "the letter was not placed in the envelope but on the top of it, and the two were the two first documents in the bundle."

"There," said he, "the letter was on top of the envelope and they were the two first documents in the bundle."


He went on to say that as far as he knew no other paper had been taken away. He was quite certain that he had left the drawer locked.

He added that he was quite certain that he had left the drawer locked.


He was very particular in regard to that particular drawer, and he remembered that about this time Mr. Melmotte had been in the room with him when he had opened it, and,--as he was certain,--had locked it again.

He also remembered that about this time Mr. Melmotte had been in the room with him when he had opened it, and locked it again.


At that special time there had been, he said, considerable intimacy between him and Melmotte.


It was then that Mr. Melmotte had offered him a seat at the Board of the Mexican railway.

It was at that time that Mr. Melmotte had offered him a seat on the Board of the Mexican railway.


"Of course he picked the lock, and stole the letter," said Dolly.


"I am afraid that it falls short of evidence, however strong and just may be the suspicion induced," said the lawyer.

"I am afraid that it falls short of evidence, however strong the suspicion may be," said the lawyer.


"Your father for a time was not quite certain about the letter."


"He thought that I had signed it," said Dolly.


"I am quite certain now," rejoined the father angrily.


"A man has to collect his memory before he can be sure of anything."


"I am thinking you know how it would go to a jury."

"I am thinking how it would go before a jury."


"What I want to know is how we are to get the money," said Dolly.


"I should like to see him hung,--of course; but I'd sooner have the money.


"Adolphus, we don't want to know here what Mr. Squercum says."

"Adolphus, we don't want to know what Mr. Squercum says."


"I don't know why what Mr. Squercum says shouldn't be as good as what Mr. Bideawhile says.


Of course Squercum doesn't sound very aristocratic."


"Quite as much so as Bideawhile, no doubt," said the lawyer laughing.


"No; Squercum isn't aristocratic, and Fetter Lane is a good deal lower than Lincoln's Inn.


Nevertheless Squercum may know what he's about.


It was Squercum who was first down upon Melmotte in this matter, and if it wasn't for Squercum we shouldn't know as much about it as we do at present."

If it wasn't for Squercum we shouldn't know as much about it as we do."


Squercum's name was odious to the elder Longestaffe.


He believed, probably without much reason, that all his family troubles came to him from Squercum, thinking that if his son would have left his affairs in the hands of the old Slows and the old Bideawhiles, money would never have been scarce with him, and that he would not have made this terrible blunder about the Pickering property.


And the sound of Squercum, as his son knew, was horrid to his ears.


He hummed and hawed, and fumed and fretted about the room, shaking his head and frowning.

He hummed and hawed, and fumed and fretted about the room, shaking his head.


His son looked at him as though quite astonished at his displeasure.


"There's nothing more to be done here, sir, I suppose," said Dolly putting on his hat.

"There's nothing more to be done here, sir, I suppose," said Dolly, putting on his hat.


"It may be that I shall have to instruct counsel, and I thought it well that I should see in the presence of both of you exactly how the thing stood.

"I thought it well that I should see in the presence of both of you exactly how the thing stood.


You speak so positively, Mr. Longestaffe, that there can be no doubt?"


"And now perhaps you had better lock the drawer in our presence.


Stop a moment--I might as well see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."

I will see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."


So saying Mr. Bideawhile knelt down in front of the table and began to examine the lock.

So saying he knelt down and carefully examined the lock.


This he did very carefully and satisfied himself that there was "no sign of violence."


"Whoever has done it, did it very well," said Bideawhile.


[Illustration: "I might as well see whether there is any sign of violence having been used."]


"Of course Melmotte did it," said Dolly Longestaffe standing immediately over Bideawhile's shoulder.

"Of course Melmotte did it," said Dolly.


At that moment there was a knock at the door,--a very distinct, and, we may say, a formal knock.

At that moment there was a knock at the door.


There are those who knock and immediately enter without waiting for the sanction asked.


Had he who knocked done so on this occasion Mr. Bideawhile would have been found still on his knees, with his nose down to the level of the keyhole.


But the intruder did not intrude rapidly, and the lawyer jumped on to his feet, almost upsetting Dolly with the effort. There was a pause, during which Mr. Bideawhile moved away from the table,--as he might have done had he been picking a lock;--and then Mr. Longestaffe bade the stranger come in with a sepulchral voice. The door was opened, and Mr. Melmotte appeared.

The lawyer jumped on to his feet and moved away from the table. Mr. Longestaffe bade the stranger come in with a sepulchral voice; and Mr. Melmotte appeared.


Now Mr. Melmotte's presence certainly had not been expected. It was known that it was his habit to be in the City at this hour.

His presence had not been expected; he was usually in the City at this hour.


It was known also that he was well aware that this meeting was to be held in this room at this special hour,--and he might well have surmised with what view.


There was now declared hostility between both the Longestaffes and Mr. Melmotte, and it certainly was supposed by all the gentlemen concerned that he would not have put himself out of the way to meet them on this occasion.


"Gentlemen," he said, "perhaps you think that I am intruding at the present moment."

"Gentlemen," he said, "perhaps you think that I am intruding."


The elder Longestaffe simply bowed very coldly.

The elder Longestaffe bowed very coldly.


Mr. Bideawhile stood upright and thrust his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets.

Mr. Bideawhile thrust his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets.


Dolly, who at first forgot to take his hat off, whistled a bar, and then turned a pirouette on his heel. That was his mode of expressing his thorough surprise at the appearance of his debtor.

Dolly whistled a bar, and then turned a pirouette on his heel, as his way of expressing his surprise at the appearance of his debtor.


"I fear that you do think I am intruding," said Melmotte, "but I trust that what I have to say will be held to excuse me.

"I trust that what I have to say will excuse me.


I see, sir," he said, turning to Mr. Longestaffe, and glancing at the still open drawer, "that you have been examining your desk.

I see, sir," said Melmotte, glancing at the still open drawer, "that you have been examining your desk.


I hope that you will be more careful in locking it than you were when you left it before."


"The drawer was locked when I left it," said Mr. Longestaffe.


"I make no deductions and draw no conclusions, but the drawer was locked."


"Then I should say it must have been locked when you returned to it."


I make no deductions and draw no conclusions,--but I left it locked and I found it open."

I make no deductions and draw no conclusions - but I left it locked and I found it open."


"I should make a deduction and draw a conclusion," said Dolly; "and that would be that somebody else had opened it."


"This can answer no purpose at all," said Bideawhile.


"It was but a chance remark," said Melmotte.


"I did not come here out of the City at very great personal inconvenience to myself to squabble about the lock of the drawer.

"I did not come here out of the City at very great personal inconvenience to squabble about the lock," said Melmotte.


As I was informed that you three gentlemen would be here together, I thought the opportunity a suitable one for meeting you and making you an offer about this unfortunate business."

"I thought this a good opportunity for meeting you and making you an offer about this unfortunate business."


He paused a moment; but neither of the three spoke.


It did occur to Dolly to ask them to wait while he should fetch Squercum; but on second thoughts he reflected that a great deal of trouble would have to be taken, and probably for no good.


"Mr. Bideawhile, I believe," suggested Melmotte; and the lawyer bowed his head. "If I remember rightly I wrote to you offering to pay the money due to your clients--"

"Mr Bideawhile; if I remember rightly I wrote to you offering to pay the money due to your clients-"


"It makes a deal of difference," said Dolly.


"I wrote," continued Melmotte, "offering my bills at three and six months' date."


"They couldn't be accepted, Mr. Melmotte."


I never have had my bills refused before."

I have never had my bills refused before."


"You must be aware, Mr. Melmotte," said the lawyer, "that the sale of a property is not like an ordinary mercantile transaction in which bills are customarily given and taken.

"You must be aware, Mr. Melmotte," said the lawyer, "that the sale of a property is not like an ordinary mercantile transaction.


The understanding was that money should be paid in the usual way.


And when we learned, as we did learn, that the property had been at once mortgaged by you, of course we became,--well, I think I may be justified in saying more than suspicious.

And when we learned that the property had been at once mortgaged by you, of course we became - well, I think I may be justified in saying more than suspicious.


It was a most,--most--unusual proceeding.


You say you have another offer to make, Mr. Melmotte."


I have had enemies whose business it has been for some time past to run down my credit, and, with my credit, has fallen the value of stocks in which it has been known that I have been largely interested.

I have had enemies whose business it has been to run down my credit, and with my credit has fallen the value of stocks in which I have invested.


When I purchased Pickering I had no idea that the payment of such a sum of money could inconvenience me in the least.

When I purchased Pickering I had no idea that the payment of such a sum could inconvenience me in the least.


When the time came at which I should pay it, stocks were so depreciated that it was impossible to sell.

When the time came to pay, stocks were so depreciated that it was impossible to sell.


Very hostile proceedings are threatened against me now.

Hostile proceedings are threatened against me now.


Accusations are made, false as hell,"--Mr. Melmotte as he spoke raised his voice and looked round the room,--"but which at the present crisis may do me most cruel damage.

Accusations are made, false as hell," - Mr. Melmotte raised his voice - "which may do me most cruel damage.


I have come to say that, if you will undertake to stop proceedings which have been commenced in the City, I will have fifty thousand pounds,--which is the amount due to these two gentlemen,--ready for payment on Friday at noon."

I have come to say that, if you will stop proceedings which have been commenced in the City, I will have fifty thousand pounds ready for payment on Friday at noon."


"I have taken no proceedings as yet," said Bideawhile.


"Well, sir," continued Melmotte addressing Dolly, "let me assure you that if these proceedings are stayed the money will be forthcoming;--but if not, I cannot produce the money.

"Well, sir," continued Melmotte, addressing Dolly, "let me assure you that if these proceedings are stopped the money will be forthcoming; but if not, I cannot produce the money.


I little thought two months ago that I should ever have to make such a statement in reference to such a sum as fifty thousand pounds.

I little thought two months ago that I should ever have to say that about such a small sum as fifty thousand pounds.


To raise that money by Friday, I shall have to cripple my resources frightfully.


I have no right to suppose that the purchase of this property should be looked upon as an ordinary commercial transaction.


The money should have been paid,--and, if you will now take my word, the money shall be paid.


But this cannot be done if I am made to appear before the Lord Mayor to-morrow.

But this cannot be done if I am made to appear before the Lord Mayor tomorrow.


The accusations brought against me are damnably false. I do not know with whom they have originated. Whoever did originate them, they are damnably false. But unfortunately, false as they are, in the present crisis, they may be ruinous to me.

The accusations against me are damnably false; but, false as they are, they may be ruinous to me.


Now gentlemen, perhaps you will give me an answer."


Both the father and the lawyer looked at Dolly.


Dolly was in truth the accuser through the mouthpiece of his attorney Squercum.


It was at Dolly's instance that these proceedings were being taken.


"I, on behalf of my client," said Mr. Bideawhile, "will consent to wait till Friday at noon."


"I presume, Adolphus, that you will say as much," said the elder Longestaffe.

"I presume, Adolphus, that you will agree," said the elder Longestaffe.


Dolly Longestaffe was certainly not an impressionable person, but Melmotte's eloquence had moved even him.

Dolly Longestaffe had been moved by Melmotte's eloquence.


It was not that he was sorry for the man, but that at the present moment he believed him. Though he had been absolutely sure that Melmotte had forged his name or caused it to be forged,--and did not now go so far into the matter as to abandon that conviction,--he had been talked into crediting the reasons given for Melmotte's temporary distress, and also into a belief that the money would be paid on Friday.

It was not that he was sorry for the man: he was still sure that Melmotte had forged his name or caused it to be forged - but he had been talked into a belief that the money would be paid on Friday.


Something of the effect which Melmotte's false confessions had had upon Lord Nidderdale, they now also had on Dolly Longestaffe.


"Of course Mr. Squercum will act as you instruct him," said Bideawhile.

"Mr. Squercum will act as you instruct him," said Bideawhile.


And upon my word, Mr. Melmotte, you've given me a great deal of trouble."


Then it was settled that they three should meet in that very room on Friday at noon, and that the payment should then be made,--Dolly stipulating that as his father would be attended by Bideawhile, so would he be attended by Squercum.

It was settled that they three should meet in that very room on Friday at noon, and that the payment should then be made - Dolly stipulating that Squercum should also attend.


To this Mr. Longestaffe senior yielded with a very bad grace.


Ten days had passed since the meeting narrated in the last chapter,--ten days, during which Hetta's letter had been sent to her lover, but in which she had received no reply,--when two gentlemen met each other in a certain room in Liverpool, who were seen together in the same room in the early part of this chronicle.

Ten days had passed since the meeting narrated in the last chapter - ten days, during which Hetta's letter had been sent to her lover, but to which she had received no reply - when two gentlemen met each other in Liverpool.


These were our young friend Paul Montague, and our not much older friend Hamilton K. Fisker.


Melmotte had died on the 18th of July, and tidings of the event had been at once sent by telegraph to San Francisco.

News of Melmotte's death had been sent by telegraph to San Francisco.


Some weeks before this Montague had written to his partner, giving his account of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway Company,--describing its condition in England as he then believed it to be,--and urging Fisker to come over to London.

Some weeks earlier, Montague had written to Fisker about the condition of the Railway Company in England, urging him to come to London.


On receipt of a message from his American correspondent he had gone down to Liverpool, and had there awaited Fisker's arrival, taking counsel with his friend Mr. Ramsbottom.

On receiving a reply he had gone to Liverpool, taking counsel with his friend Mr. Ramsbottom, and had awaited Fisker's arrival.


In the mean time Hetta's letter was lying at the Beargarden, Paul having written from his club and having omitted to desire that the answer should be sent to his lodgings.

In the meantime Hetta's letter was lying at the Beargarden.


Just at this moment things at the Beargarden were not well managed.


They were indeed so ill managed that Paul never received that letter,--which would have had for him charms greater than those of any letter ever before written.

They were indeed so ill managed that Paul never received that letter.


"This is a terrible business," said Fisker, immediately on entering the room in which Montague was waiting him.

"This is a terrible business," said Fisker, immediately on entering the room.


"He was the last man I'd have thought would be cut up in that way."


"He wouldn't have been ruined,--and couldn't have thought so if he'd known all he ought to have known.


The South Central would have pulled him through a'most anything if he'd have understood how to play it."

"The South Central would have pulled him through a'most anything if he'd understood how to play it."


"We don't think much of the South Central here now," said Paul.


"Ah;--that's because you've never above half spirit enough for a big thing.

"Ah; that's because you don't have spirit enough for a big thing.


You nibble at it instead of swallowing it whole,--and then, of course, folks see that you're only nibbling.

You nibble at it instead of swallowing it whole.


I thought that Melmotte would have had spirit."


"There is, I fear, no doubt that he had committed forgery.


It was the dread of detection as to that which drove him to destroy himself."

It was the dread of detection which drove him to kill himself."


"I call it dam clumsy from beginning to end;--dam clumsy.

"I call it damn clumsy from beginning to end.


I took him to be a different man, and I feel more than half ashamed of myself because I trusted such a fellow.


That chap Cohenlupe has got off with a lot of swag.


Only think of Melmotte allowing Cohenlupe to get the better of him!"


"I suppose the thing will be broken up now at San Francisco," suggested Paul.


D'you think we're all going to smash there because a fool like Melmotte blows his brains out in London?"


I'll tell you what I'm going to do; and why I'm over here so uncommon sharp.


These shares are at a'most nothing now in London.


I wired for as many as I dar'd, so as not to spoil our own game, and I'll make a clean sweep of every one of them.


I'm sorry for him because I thought him a biggish man;--but what he's done 'll just be the making of us over there.

I'm sorry for him; but what he's done'll just be the making of us over there.


Will you get out of it, or will you come back to Frisco with me?"


In answer to this Paul asserted most strenuously that he would not return to San Francisco, and, perhaps too ingenuously, gave his partner to understand that he was altogether sick of the great railway, and would under no circumstances have anything more to do with it.

Paul asserted that he would not return to San Francisco, that he was altogether sick of the great railway, and would have nothing more to do with it.


Fisker shrugged his shoulders, and was not displeased at the proposed rupture.

Fisker shrugged his shoulders, and was not displeased.


He was prepared to deal fairly,--nay, generously,--by his partner, having recognised the wisdom of that great commercial rule which teaches us that honour should prevail among associates of a certain class; but he had fully convinced himself that Paul Montague was not a fit partner for Hamilton K. Fisker.

He had convinced himself that Paul Montague was not a fit partner.


Fisker was not only unscrupulous himself, but he had a thorough contempt for scruples in others.

Fisker had a thorough contempt for scruples in others.


According to his theory of life, nine hundred and ninety-nine men were obscure because of their scruples, whilst the thousandth man predominated and cropped up into the splendour of commercial wealth because he was free from such bondage.


He had his own theories, too, as to commercial honesty.


That which he had promised to do he would do, if it was within his power.


He was anxious that his bond should be good, and his word equally so.


But the work of robbing mankind in gross by magnificently false representations, was not only the duty, but also the delight and the ambition of his life.

The work of robbing mankind was not only the duty, but also the delight and the ambition of his life.


How could a man so great endure a partnership with one so small as Paul Montague?


"Oh yes, I know she's in London, and Hurtle's at Frisco, swearing that he'll come after her. He would, only he hasn't got the dollars."

"Yes, I know; and Hurtle's at Frisco, swearing that he'll come after her, only he hasn't got the money."


She'll have a bad time of it with him yet."


"She got a Kansas lawyer to say so, and he's got a Frisco lawyer to say that there's nothing of the kind.


She hasn't played her game badly neither, for she's had the handling of her own money, and has put it so that he can't get hold of a dollar.

She hasn't played her game badly, for she's put it so that he can't get hold of a dollar.


Even if it suited other ways, you know, I wouldn't marry her myself till I saw my way clearer out of the wood."

But I wouldn't marry her myself till I saw my way clearer out of the wood."


"I'm not thinking of marrying her,--if you mean that."


"There was a talk about it in Frisco;--that's all.

"There was talk about it in Frisco; that's all.


And I have heard Hurtle say when he was a little farther gone than usual that she was here with you, and that he meant to drop in on you some of these days."

And I heard Hurtle say that he meant to drop in on you one of these days."


To this Paul made no answer, thinking that he had now both heard enough and said enough about Mrs. Hurtle.


On the following day the two men, who were still partners, went together to London, and Fisker immediately became immersed in the arrangement of Melmotte's affairs.

On the following day the two men went together to London, and Fisker immediately became immersed in the arrangement of Melmotte's affairs.


He put himself into communication with Mr. Brehgert, went in and out of the offices in Abchurch Lane and the rooms which had belonged to the Railway Company, cross-examined Croll, mastered the books of the Company as far as they were to be mastered, and actually summoned both the Grendalls, father and son, up to London.

He talked to Mr. Brehgert, went in and out of the offices in Abchurch Lane, cross-examined Croll, mastered the books of the Company as far as they were to be mastered, and actually summoned both the Grendalls, father and son, up to London.


Lord Alfred, and Miles with him, had left London a day or two before Melmotte's death,--having probably perceived that there was no further occasion for their services.


To Fisker's appeal Lord Alfred was proudly indifferent. Who was this American that he should call upon a director of the London Company to appear? Does not every one know that a director of a company need not direct unless he pleases? Lord Alfred, therefore, did not even condescend to answer Fisker's letter;--but he advised his son to run up to town.

Lord Alfred ignored the appeal, but advised his son to run up to town.


"I should just go, because I'd taken a salary from the d---- Company," said the careful father, "but when there I wouldn't say a word."

"You should go, because you took a salary from the Company," said the careful father, "but don't say a word."


So Miles Grendall, obeying his parent, reappeared upon the scene.

So Miles Grendall reappeared upon the scene.


But Fisker's attention was perhaps most usefully and most sedulously paid to Madame Melmotte and her daughter.

But Fisker's attention was perhaps most usefully paid to Madame Melmotte and her daughter.


Till Fisker arrived no one had visited them in their solitude at Hampstead, except Croll, the clerk.

No one had visited them in their solitude at Hampstead, except Croll, the clerk.


Mr. Brehgert had abstained, thinking that a widow, who had become a widow under such terrible circumstances, would prefer to be alone.

Mr. Brehgert had abstained, thinking that the widow would prefer to be alone.


Lord Nidderdale had made his adieux, and felt that he could do no more.


It need hardly be said that Lord Alfred had too much good taste to interfere at such a time, although for some months he had been domestically intimate with the poor woman, or that Sir Felix would not be prompted by the father's death to renew his suit to the daughter.


But Fisker had not been two days in London before he went out to Hampstead, and was admitted to Madame Melmotte's presence;--and he had not been there four days before he was aware that in spite of all misfortunes, Marie Melmotte was still the undoubted possessor of a large fortune.

But Fisker had not been two days in London before he was admitted to Madame Melmotte's presence; and he had not been there four days before he was aware that in spite of all misfortunes, Marie Melmotte was still the possessor of a large fortune.


In regard to Melmotte's effects generally the Crown had been induced to abstain from interfering,--giving up the right to all the man's plate and chairs and tables which it had acquired by the finding of the coroner's verdict,--not from tenderness to Madame Melmotte, for whom no great commiseration was felt, but on behalf of such creditors as poor Mr. Longestaffe and his son. But Marie's money was quite distinct from this.

Marie's money had been found to be quite distinct from Melmotte's.


She had been right in her own belief as to this property, and had been right, too, in refusing to sign those papers,--unless it may be that that refusal led to her father's act.

She had been right in refusing to sign those papers - unless that refusal led to her father's act.


She herself was sure that it was not so, because she had withdrawn her refusal, and had offered to sign the papers before her father's death.

She was sure that it was not so, because she had offered to sign the papers before her father's death.


What might have been the ultimate result had she done so when he first made the request, no one could now say.


That the money would have gone there could be no doubt.


The money was now hers,--a fact which Fisker soon learned with that peculiar cleverness which belonged to him.


Poor Madame Melmotte felt the visits of the American to be a relief to her in her misery.

Poor Madame Melmotte felt the visits of the American to be a relief in her misery.


The world makes great mistakes as to that which is and is not beneficial to those whom Death has bereaved of a companion.


It may be, no doubt sometimes it is the case, that grief shall be so heavy, so absolutely crushing, as to make any interference with it an additional trouble, and this is felt also in acute bodily pain, and in periods of terrible mental suffering.


It may also be, and, no doubt, often is the case, that the bereaved one chooses to affect such overbearing sorrow, and that friends abstain, because even such affectation has its own rights and privileges.


But Madame Melmotte was neither crushed by grief nor did she affect to be so crushed. She had been numbed by the suddenness and by the awe of the catastrophe.

She was not crushed by grief, but numbed by the suddenness and awe of the catastrophe.


The man who had been her merciless tyrant for years, who had seemed to her to be a very incarnation of cruel power, had succumbed, and shown himself to be powerless against his own misfortunes.

The man who had been her merciless tyrant for years had proved powerless against his own misfortunes.


She was a woman of very few words, and had spoken almost none on this occasion even to her own daughter; but when Fisker came to her, and told her more than she had ever known before of her husband's affairs, and spoke to her of her future life, and mixed for her a small glass of brandy-and-water warm, and told her that Frisco would be the fittest place for her future residence, she certainly did not find him to be intrusive.

She was a woman of very few words; but when Fisker spoke to her of her husband's affairs, and her future life, and mixed her a small glass of brandy-and-water, and told her that Frisco would be the fittest place for her future residence, she did not find him to be intrusive.


And even Marie liked Fisker, though she had been wooed and almost won both by a lord and a baronet, and had understood, if not much, at least more than her mother, of the life to which she had been introduced.

And even Marie liked Fisker, though she had been wooed and almost won both by a lord and a baronet.


There was something of real sorrow in her heart for her father.

There was real sorrow in her heart for her father.


She was prone to love,--though, perhaps, not prone to deep affection.

She was prone to love, though, perhaps, not prone to deep affection.


Melmotte had certainly been often cruel to her, but he had also been very indulgent.

Melmotte had been often cruel to her, but he had also been very indulgent.


And as she had never been specially grateful for the one, so neither had she ever specially resented the other.


Tenderness, care, real solicitude for her well-being, she had never known, and had come to regard the unevenness of her life, vacillating between knocks and knick-knacks, with a blow one day and a jewel the next, as the condition of things which was natural to her.

She had never known real tenderness and care, and had come to regard a blow one day and a jewel the next as the natural condition of things.


When her father was dead she remembered for a while the jewels and the knick-knacks, and forgot the knocks and blows.

When her father was dead she remembered for a while the jewels, and forgot the blows.


But she was not beyond consolation, and she also found consolation in Mr. Fisker's visits.

But she also found consolation in Mr. Fisker's visits.


"I used to sign a paper every quarter," she said to Fisker, as they were walking together one evening in the lanes round Hampstead.


"You'll have to do the same now, only instead of giving the paper to any one you'll have to leave it in a banker's hands to draw the money for yourself."

"You'll have to do the same now, only leave it in a banker's hands to draw the money for yourself."


"And can that be done over in California?"


Your bankers will manage it all for you without the slightest trouble.

Your bankers will manage it for you without the slightest trouble.


For the matter of that I'll do it, if you'll trust me.


There's only one thing against it all, Miss Melmotte."


"After the sort of society you've been used to here, I don't know how you'll get on among us Americans.


Though, perhaps, what you lose in the look of the fruit, you'll make up in the flavour."


This Fisker said in a somewhat plaintive tone, as though fearing that the manifest substantial advantages of Frisco would not suffice to atone for the loss of that fashion to which Miss Melmotte had been used.


"I hate swells," said Marie, flashing round upon him.


They never mean a word that they say,--and they don't say so many words either.


They're never more than half awake, and don't care the least about anybody.


"I rather think it would be a jolly sort of place."

"I think it would be a jolly sort of place."


I've found out one or two that you don't love.


If you do come to Frisco, I hope you won't just hate me, you know."

"But if you come to Frisco, I hope you won't hate me, you know."


Then he took her gently by the arm;--but she, whisking herself away rapidly, bade him behave himself.

He took her gently by the arm; but she bade him behave himself.


Then they returned to their lodgings, and Mr. Fisker, before he went back to London, mixed a little warm brandy-and-water for Madame Melmotte.


I think that upon the whole Madame Melmotte was more comfortable at Hampstead than she had been either in Grosvenor Square or Bruton Street, although she was certainly not a thing beautiful to look at in her widow's weeds.


"I don't think much of you as a book-keeper, you know," Fisker said to Miles Grendall in the now almost deserted Board-room of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway.

"I don't think much of your book-keeping," Fisker said to Miles Grendall in the deserted Board-room of the Mexican Railway.


Miles, remembering his father's advice, answered not a word, but merely looked with assumed amazement at the impertinent stranger who dared thus to censure his performances.

Miles, remembering his father's advice, answered not a word, but merely looked with assumed amazement at the impertinent stranger.


Fisker had made three or four remarks previous to this, and had appealed both to Paul Montague and to Croll, who were present.

Fisker had made three or four remarks before this, and had appealed to Paul Montague and Croll, who were present.


He had invited also the attendance of Sir Felix Carbury, Lord Nidderdale, and Mr. Longestaffe, who were all Directors;--but none of them had come.

He had also invited Sir Felix Carbury, Lord Nidderdale, and Mr. Longestaffe, as Directors; but none of them had come.


Sir Felix had paid no attention to Fisker's letter.


Lord Nidderdale had written a short but characteristic reply.


"Dear Mr. Fisker,--I really don't know anything about it.


Mr. Longestaffe, with laborious zeal, had closely covered four pages with his reasons for non-attendance, with which the reader shall not be troubled, and which it may be doubted whether even Fisker perused to the end.


"Upon my word," continued Fisker, "it's astonishing to me that Melmotte should have put up with this kind of thing.

"Upon my word," continued Fisker, "it's astonishing that Melmotte should have put up with this kind of thing.


I suppose you understand something of business, Mr. Croll?"


"It vas not my department, Mr. Fisker," said the German.


"Nor anybody else's either," said the domineering American.

"Nor anybody else's either," said the American.


"Of course it's on the cards, Mr. Grendall, that we shall have to put you into a witness-box, because there are certain things we must get at."


Miles was silent as the grave, but at once made up his mind that he would pass his autumn at some pleasant but economical German retreat, and that his autumnal retirement should be commenced within a very few days;--or perhaps hours might suffice.

Miles was silent as the grave, but at once made up his mind that he would pass his autumn at some pleasant but economical German retreat, and that this retirement should begin within a very few days; or perhaps hours.


But Fisker was not in earnest in his threat.


In truth the greater the confusion in the London office, the better, he thought, were the prospects of the Company at San Francisco.

The greater the confusion in the London office, he thought, the better were the prospects of the Company at San Francisco.


Miles underwent purgatory on this occasion for three or four hours, and when dismissed had certainly revealed none of Melmotte's secrets.


He did, however, go to Germany, finding that a temporary absence from England would be comfortable to him in more respects than one,--and need not be heard of again in these pages.


When Melmotte's affairs were ultimately wound up there was found to be nearly enough of property to satisfy all his proved liabilities.

When Melmotte's affairs were ultimately wound up there was found to be nearly enough property to pay all his debts.


Very many men started up with huge claims, asserting that they had been robbed, and in the confusion it was hard to ascertain who had been robbed, or who had simply been unsuccessful in their attempts to rob others.

It was hard to work out who had been robbed, or who had simply been unsuccessful in their attempts to rob others.


Some, no doubt, as was the case with poor Mr. Brehgert, had speculated in dependence on Melmotte's sagacity, and had lost heavily without dishonesty.

Some, like poor Mr. Brehgert, had lost heavily without dishonesty.


But of those who, like the Longestaffes, were able to prove direct debts, the condition at last was not very sad.

But those who, like the Longestaffes, were able to prove debts, were better off.


Our excellent friend Dolly got his money early in the day, and was able, under Mr. Squercum's guidance, to start himself on a new career. Having paid his debts, and with still a large balance at his bankers', he assured his friend Nidderdale that he meant to turn over an entirely new leaf.

Dolly got his money, and assured his friend Nidderdale that he meant to turn over a new leaf.


"I shall just make Squercum allow me so much a month, and I shall have all the bills and that kind of thing sent to him, and he will do everything, and pull me up if I'm getting wrong.

"I shall just make Squercum allow me so much a month, and I shall have all the bills sent to him, and he will do everything, and pull me up if I'm getting wrong.


"Of course he will;--but he won't let any one else do it.

"Of course he will; but he won't let anyone else do it."


One has to be plucked, but it's everything to have it done on a system.


If he'll only let me have ten shillings out of every sovereign I think I can get along."


Let us hope that Mr. Squercum was merciful, and that Dolly was enabled to live in accordance with his virtuous resolutions.


But these things did not arrange themselves till late in the winter,--long after Mr. Fisker's departure for California.

But these things did not arrange themselves till long after Mr. Fisker's departure for California.


That, however, was protracted till a day much later than he had anticipated before he had become intimate with Madame Melmotte and Marie. Madame Melmotte's affairs occupied him for a while almost exclusively.

That was delayed while Madame Melmotte's affairs occupied him.


The furniture and plate were of course sold for the creditors, but Madame Melmotte was allowed to take whatever she declared to be specially her own property;--and, though much was said about the jewels, no attempt was made to recover them.

The furniture and plate were sold, but Madame Melmotte was allowed to take whatever she declared to be her own property; and no attempt was made to recover the jewels.


Marie advised Madame Melmotte to give them up, assuring the old woman that she should have whatever she wanted for her maintenance.


But it was not likely that Melmotte's widow would willingly abandon any property, and she did not abandon her jewels.


It was agreed between her and Fisker that they were to be taken to New York.

It was agreed with Fisker that they were to be taken to New York.


"You'll get as much there as in London, if you like to part with them; and nobody 'll say anything about it there.

"You'll get as much for them there as in London, if you like to part with them," he told her.


You couldn't sell a locket or a chain here without all the world talking about it."


In all these things Madame Melmotte put herself into Fisker's hands with the most absolute confidence,--and, indeed, with a confidence that was justified by its results.

In fact Madame Melmotte put herself into Fisker's hands with absolute confidence; and her confidence was justified.


It was not by robbing an old woman that Fisker intended to make himself great.


To Madame Melmotte's thinking, Fisker was the finest gentleman she had ever met,--so infinitely pleasanter in his manner than Lord Alfred even when Lord Alfred had been most gracious, with so much more to say for himself than Miles Grendall, understanding her so much better than any man had ever done,--especially when he supplied her with those small warm beakers of sweet brandy-and-water.

Madame Melmotte thought he was the finest gentleman she had ever met.


"I shall do whatever he tells me," she said to Marie.


"I'm sure I've nothing to keep me here in this country."

"I'm sure I've nothing to keep me in this country."


"I suppose you'll take him if he asks you?"

"I suppose you'll marry him if he asks you?"


"I don't know anything about that," said Marie.


"A man may be very well without one's wanting to marry him.


Fisker's all very well; but he only wants the money."


Do you think Fisker'd ask me to marry him if I hadn't got anything?


"I think he's a very nice young man," said Madame Melmotte.


Mr. Alf's central committee-room was in Great George Street, and there the battle was kept alive all the day.

Mr. Alf's central committee-room was in Great George Street, and there the battle was kept alive all day.


It had been decided, as the reader has been told, that no direct advantage should be taken of that loud blast of accusation which had been heard throughout the town on the previous afternoon. There had not been sufficient time for inquiry as to the truth of that blast.

It had been decided that no direct advantage should be taken of the rumour, for there had not been enough time to ascertain its truth.


If there were just ground for the things that had been said, Mr. Melmotte would no doubt soon be in gaol, or would be--wanted.

If it was true, Mr. Melmotte would no doubt soon be in jail.


Many had thought that he would escape as soon as the dinner was over, and had been disappointed when they heard that he had been seen walking down towards his own committee-room on the following morning.

Many had thought that he would escape as soon as the dinner was over, and had been disappointed when they heard that he had been seen walking towards his own committee-room on the following morning.


Others had been told that at the last moment his name would be withdrawn,--and a question arose as to whether he had the legal power to withdraw his name after a certain hour on the day before the ballot.


An effort was made to convince a portion of the electors that he had withdrawn, or would have withdrawn, or should have withdrawn.

An effort was made to convince some electors that he had withdrawn.


When Melmotte was at Covent Garden, a large throng of men went to Whitehall Place with the view of ascertaining the truth. He certainly had made no attempt at withdrawal.

When Melmotte was at Covent Garden, a large throng of men went to Whitehall Place to inquire, and found that he had made no attempt at withdrawal.


They who propagated this report certainly damaged Mr. Alf's cause.


A second reaction set in, and there grew a feeling that Mr. Melmotte was being ill-used.

A feeling grew that Mr. Melmotte was being ill-used.


Those evil things had been said of him,--many at least so declared,--not from any true motive, but simply to secure Mr. Alf's return.

Those evil things had been said - many declared - simply to secure Mr. Alf's success in the election.


Tidings of the speech in Covent Garden were spread about at the various polling places, and did good service to the so-called Conservative cause.

News of the speech in Covent Garden spread, and did good service to the Conservative cause.


Mr. Alf's friends, hearing all this, instigated him also to make a speech.

Mr. Alf's friends, hearing this, urged him also to make a speech.


Something should be said, if only that it might be reported in the newspapers, to show that they had behaved with generosity, instead of having injured their enemy by false attacks.

Something should be said, if only that it might be reported in the newspapers, to show that they had behaved generously to their enemy.


Whatever Mr. Alf might say, he might at any rate be sure of a favourable reporter.


About two o'clock in the day, Mr. Alf did make a speech,--and a very good speech it was, if correctly reported in the "Evening Pulpit."

At about two o'clock, Mr. Alf did make a speech - and a very good speech it was, if correctly reported in the Evening Pulpit.