This very long letter puzzled Georgey a good deal, and left her, at the time of reading it, very much in doubt as to what she would do. She could understand that it was a plain-spoken and truth-telling letter. Not that she, to herself, gave it praise for those virtues; but that it imbued her unconsciously with a thorough belief. She was apt to suspect deceit in other people;--but it did not occur to her that Mr. Brehgert had written a single word with an attempt to deceive her. But the single-minded genuine honesty of the letter was altogether thrown away upon her. She never said to herself, as she read it, that she might safely trust herself to this man, though he were a Jew, though greasy and like a butcher, though over fifty and with a family, because he was an honest man. She did not see that the letter was particularly sensible;--but she did allow herself to be pained by the total absence of romance. She was annoyed at the first allusion to her age, and angry at the second; and yet she had never supposed that Brehgert had taken her to be younger than she was. She was well aware that the world in general attributes more years to unmarried women than they have lived, as a sort of equalising counter-weight against the pretences which young women make on the other side, or the lies which are told on their behalf. Nor had she wished to appear peculiarly young in his eyes. But, nevertheless, she regarded the reference to be uncivil,--perhaps almost butcher-like,--and it had its effect upon her. And then the allusion to the "daughter or daughters" troubled her. She told herself that it was vulgar,--just what a butcher might have said. And although she was quite prepared to call her father the most irrational, the most prejudiced, and most ill-natured of men, yet she was displeased that Mr. Brehgert should take such a liberty with him. But the passage in Mr. Brehgert's letter which was most distasteful to her was that which told her of the loss which he might probably incur through his connection with Melmotte. What right had he to incur a loss which would incapacitate him from keeping his engagements with her? The town-house had been the great persuasion, and now he absolutely had the face to tell her that there was to be no town-house for three years. When she read this she felt that she ought to be indignant, and for a few moments was minded to sit down without further consideration and tell the man with considerable scorn that she would have nothing more to say to him.

This long letter puzzled Georgey a good deal, and left her very much in doubt as to what she would do. She could understand that it was a plain-spoken and truth-telling letter. Not that she gave it praise for those virtues; but it filled her unconsciously with a thorough belief.
But the genuine honesty of the letter was altogether thrown away upon her. She never said to herself, as she read it, that she might safely trust herself to this man, though he were a Jew over fifty, because he was honest. She did not see that the letter was particularly sensible; but she did allow herself to be pained by the total absence of romance. She was annoyed at the first allusion to her age, and angry at the second; and yet she had never supposed that Brehgert had taken her to be younger than she was. Nor had she wished to appear particularly young in his eyes. Nevertheless, she felt the reference to be uncivil, and it had its effect upon her.
And then the allusion to the "daughter or daughters" troubled her. She told herself that it was vulgar - just what a butcher might have said. And although she was quite prepared to call her father irrational and prejudiced, yet she was displeased that Mr. Brehgert should take such a liberty.
But the most distasteful passage in the letter was that which told her of the loss which he might incur through his connection with Melmotte. What right had he to incur a loss which would stop him from keeping his engagement? The town-house had been the great persuasion, and now he absolutely had the face to tell her that there was to be no town-house for three years. When she read this she felt that she ought to be indignant, and for a few moments was minded to sit down and tell the man scornfully that she would have nothing more to say to him.
