CHAPTER XXIX.
MISS MELMOTTE'S COURAGE.
Lady Carbury continued to ask frequent questions as to theprosecution of her son's suit, and Sir Felix began to think that hewas persecuted. "I have spoken to her father," he said crossly.
"And what did Mr. Melmotte say?"
"Say;--what should he say? He wanted to know what income I had got.After all he's an old screw."
"Did he forbid you to come there any more?"
"Now, mother, it's no use your cross-examining me. If you'll let mealone I'll do the best I can."
"She has accepted you, herself?"
"Of course she has. I told you that at Carbury."
"Then, Felix, if I were you I'd run off with her. I would indeed.It's done every day, and nobody thinks any harm of it when youmarry the girl. You could do it now because I know you've got money.From all I can hear she's just the sort of girl that would go withyou." The son sat silent, listening to these maternal councils. Hedid believe that Marie would go off with him, were he to proposethe scheme to her. Her own father had almost alluded to such aproceeding,--had certainly hinted that it was feasible,--but at thesame time had very clearly stated that in such case the ardent loverwould have to content himself with the lady alone. In any such eventas that there would be no fortune. But then, might not that only be athreat? Rich fathers generally do forgive their daughters, and a richfather with only one child would surely forgive her when she returnedto him, as she would do in this instance, graced with a title. SirFelix thought of all this as he sat there silent. His mother read histhoughts as she continued. "Of course, Felix, there must be somerisk."
"Fancy what it would be to be thrown over at last!" he exclaimed. "Icouldn't bear it. I think I should kill her."
"Oh no, Felix; you wouldn't do that. But when I say there would besome risk I mean that there would be very little. There would benothing in it that ought to make him really angry. He has nobodyelse to give his money to, and it would be much nicer to have hisdaughter, Lady Carbury, with him, than to be left all alone in theworld."
"I couldn't live with him, you know. I couldn't do it."
"You needn't live with him, Felix. Of course she would visit herparents. When the money was once settled you need see as little ofthem as you pleased. Pray do not allow trifles to interfere with you.If this should not succeed, what are you to do? We shall all starveunless something be done. If I were you, Felix, I would take her awayat once. They say she is of age."
"I shouldn't know where to take her," said Sir Felix, almost stunnedinto thoughtfulness by the magnitude of the proposition made to him."All that about Scotland is done with now."
"Of course you would marry her at once."
"I suppose so,--unless it were better to stay as we were, till themoney was settled."
"Oh, no; no! Everybody would be against you. If you take her off in aspirited sort of way and then marry her, everybody will be with you.That's what you want. The father and mother will be sure to comeround, if--"
"The mother is nothing."
"He will come round if people speak up in your favour. I could getMr. Alf and Mr. Broune to help. I'd try it, Felix; indeed I would.Ten thousand a year is not to be had every year."
Sir Felix gave no assent to his mother's views. He felt no desire torelieve her anxiety by an assurance of activity in the matter. Butthe prospect was so grand that it had excited even him. He had moneysufficient for carrying out the scheme, and if he delayed the matternow, it might well be that he would never again find himself socircumstanced. He thought that he would ask somebody whither he oughtto take her, and what he ought to do with her;--and that he wouldthen make the proposition to herself. Miles Grendall would be theman to tell him, because, with all his faults, Miles did understandthings. But he could not ask Miles. He and Nidderdale were goodfriends; but Nidderdale wanted the girl for himself. Grasslough wouldbe sure to tell Nidderdale. Dolly would be altogether useless. Hethought that, perhaps, Herr Vossner would be the man to help him.There would be no difficulty out of which Herr Vossner would notextricate "a fellow,"--if "the fellow" paid him.
On Thursday evening he went to Grosvenor Square, as desired byMarie,--but unfortunately found Melmotte in the drawing-room. LordNidderdale was there also, and his lordship's old father, the Marquisof Auld Reekie, whom Felix, when he entered the room, did not know.He was a fierce-looking, gouty old man, with watery eyes, and verystiff grey hair,--almost white. He was standing up supporting himselfon two sticks when Sir Felix entered the room. There were alsopresent Madame Melmotte, Miss Longestaffe, and Marie. As Felix hadentered the hall one huge footman had said that the ladies were notat home; then there had been for a moment a whispering behind adoor,--in which he afterwards conceived that Madame Didon had taken apart;--and upon that a second tall footman had contradicted the firstand had ushered him up to the drawing-room. He felt considerablyembarrassed, but shook hands with the ladies, bowed to Melmotte, whoseemed to take no notice of him, and nodded to Lord Nidderdale. Hehad not had time to place himself, when the Marquis arranged things."Suppose we go down-stairs," said the Marquis.
"Certainly, my lord," said Melmotte. "I'll show your lordship theway." The Marquis did not speak to his son, but poked at him with hisstick, as though poking him out of the door. So instigated Nidderdalefollowed the financier, and the gouty old Marquis toddled after them.
Madame Melmotte was beside herself with trepidation. "You should nothave been made to come up at all," she said. "Il faut que vous vousretirez."
"I am very sorry," said Sir Felix, looking quite aghast.
"I think that I had at any rate better retire," said MissLongestaffe, raising herself to her full height and stalking out ofthe room.
"Qu'elle est mechante," said Madame Melmotte. "Oh, she is so bad. SirFelix, you had better go too. Yes,--indeed."
"No," said Marie, running to him, and taking hold of his arm. "Whyshould he go? I want papa to know."
"Il vous tuera," said Madame Melmotte. "My God, yes."
"Then he shall," said Marie, clinging to her lover. "I will nevermarry Lord Nidderdale. If he were to cut me into bits I wouldn't doit. Felix, you love me;--do you not?"
"Certainly," said Sir Felix, slipping his arm round her waist.
"Mamma," said Marie, "I will never have any other man buthim;--never, never, never. Oh, Felix, tell her that you love me."
"You know that, don't you, ma'am?" Sir Felix was a little troubled inhis mind as to what he should say, or what he should do.
"Oh, love! It is a beastliness," said Madame Melmotte. "Sir Felix,you had better go. Yes, indeed. Will you be so obliging?"
"Don't go," said Marie. "No, mamma, he shan't go. What has he to beafraid of? I will walk down among them into papa's room, and say thatI will never marry that man, and that this is my lover. Felix, willyou come?"
Sir Felix did not quite like the proposition. There had been asavage ferocity in that Marquis's eye, and there was habitually aheavy sternness about Melmotte, which together made him resist theinvitation. "I don't think I have a right to do that," he said,"because it is Mr. Melmotte's own house."
"I wouldn't mind," said Marie. "I told papa to-day that I wouldn'tmarry Lord Nidderdale."
"Was he angry with you?"
"He laughed at me. He manages people till he thinks that everybodymust do exactly what he tells them. He may kill me, but I will not doit. I have quite made up my mind. Felix, if you will be true to me,nothing shall separate us. I will not be ashamed to tell everybodythat I love you."
Madame Melmotte had now thrown herself into a chair and was sighing.Sir Felix stood on the rug with his arm round Marie's waist,listening to her protestations, but saying little in answer tothem,--when, suddenly, a heavy step was heard ascending the stairs."C'est lui," screamed Madame Melmotte, bustling up from her seat andhurrying out of the room by a side door. The two lovers were alonefor one moment, during which Marie lifted up her face, and Sir Felixkissed her lips. "Now be brave," she said, escapi
ng from his arm,"and I'll be brave." Mr. Melmotte looked round the room as heentered. "Where are the others?" he asked.
"Mamma has gone away, and Miss Longestaffe went before mamma."
"Sir Felix, it is well that I should tell you that my daughter isengaged to marry Lord Nidderdale."
"Sir Felix, I am not engaged--to--marry Lord Nidderdale," said Marie."It's no good, papa. I won't do it. If you chop me to pieces, I won'tdo it."
"She will marry Lord Nidderdale," continued Mr. Melmotte, addressinghimself to Sir Felix. "As that is arranged, you will perhaps think itbetter to leave us. I shall be happy to renew my acquaintance withyou as soon as the fact is recognised;--or happy to see you in thecity at any time."
"Papa, he is my lover," said Marie.
"Pooh!"
"It is not pooh. He is. I will never have any other. I hate LordNidderdale; and as for that dreadful old man, I could not bear tolook at him. Sir Felix is as good a gentleman as he is. If you lovedme, papa, you would not want to make me unhappy all my life."
Her father walked up to her rapidly with his hand raised, and sheclung only the closer to her lover's arm. At this moment Sir Felixdid not know what he might best do, but he thoroughly wished himselfout in the square. "Jade!" said Melmotte, "get to your room."
"Get to your room."]
"Of course I will go to bed, if you tell me, papa."
"I do tell you. How dare you take hold of him in that way before me!Have you no idea of disgrace?"
"I am not disgraced. It is not more disgraceful to love him than thatother man. Oh, papa, don't. You hurt me. I am going." He took her bythe arm and dragged her to the door, and then thrust her out.
"I am very sorry, Mr. Melmotte," said Sir Felix, "to have had a handin causing this disturbance."
"Go away, and don't come back any more;--that's all. You can't bothmarry her. All you have got to understand is this. I'm not the man togive my daughter a single shilling if she marries against my consent.By the God that hears me, Sir Felix, she shall not have one shilling.But look you,--if you'll give this up, I shall be proud to co-operatewith you in anything you may wish to have done in the city."
After this Sir Felix left the room, went down the stairs, had thedoor opened for him, and was ushered into the square. But as hewent through the hall a woman managed to shove a note into hishand,--which he read as soon as he found himself under a gas lamp. Itwas dated that morning, and had therefore no reference to the fraywhich had just taken place. It ran as follows:--
I hope you will come to-night. There is something I cannot tell you then, but you ought to know it. When we were in France papa thought it wise to settle a lot of money on me. I don't know how much, but I suppose it was enough to live on if other things went wrong. He never talked to me about it, but I know it was done. And it hasn't been undone, and can't be without my leave. He is very angry about you this morning, for I told him I would never give you up. He says he won't give me anything if I marry without his leave. But I am sure he cannot take it away. I tell you, because I think I ought to tell you everything.
M.
Sir Felix as he read this could not but think that he had becomeengaged to a very enterprising young lady. It was evident that shedid not care to what extent she braved her father on behalf of herlover, and now she coolly proposed to rob him. But Sir Felix saw noreason why he should not take advantage of the money made over to thegirl's name, if he could lay his hands on it. He did not know much ofsuch transactions, but he knew more than Marie Melmotte, and couldunderstand that a man in Melmotte's position should want to securea portion of his fortune against accidents, by settling it on hisdaughter. Whether having so settled it, he could again resume itwithout the daughter's assent, Sir Felix did not know. Marie, whohad no doubt been regarded as an absolutely passive instrument whenthe thing was done, was now quite alive to the benefit which shemight possibly derive from it. Her proposition, put into plainEnglish, amounted to this: "Take me and marry me without my father'sconsent,--and then you and I together can rob my father of the moneywhich, for his own purposes, he has settled upon me." He had lookedupon the lady of his choice as a poor weak thing, without any specialcharacter of her own, who was made worthy of consideration only bythe fact that she was a rich man's daughter; but now she began toloom before his eyes as something bigger than that. She had had awill of her own when the mother had none. She had not been afraid ofher brutal father when he, Sir Felix, had trembled before him. Shehad offered to be beaten, and killed, and chopped to pieces on behalfof her lover. There could be no doubt about her running away if shewere asked.
It seemed to him that within the last month he had gained a greatdeal of experience, and that things which heretofore had beentroublesome to him, or difficult, or perhaps impossible, were nowcoming easily within his reach. He had won two or three thousandpounds at cards, whereas invariable loss had been the result ofthe small play in which he had before indulged. He had been set tomarry this heiress, having at first no great liking for the attempt,because of its difficulties and the small amount of hope which itoffered him. The girl was already willing and anxious to jump intohis arms. Then he had detected a man cheating at cards,--an extentof iniquity that was awful to him before he had seen it,--and wasalready beginning to think that there was not very much in that. Ifthere was not much in it, if such a man as Miles Grendall could cheatat cards and be brought to no punishment, why should not he try it?It was a rapid way of winning, no doubt. He remembered that on one ortwo occasions he had asked his adversary to cut the cards a secondtime at whist, because he had observed that there was no honour atthe bottom. No feeling of honesty had interfered with him. The littletrick had hardly been premeditated, but when successful withoutdetection had not troubled his conscience. Now it seemed to him thatmuch more than that might be done without detection. But nothinghad opened his eyes to the ways of the world so widely as the sweetlittle lover-like proposition made by Miss Melmotte for robbing herfather. It certainly recommended the girl to him. She had been ableat an early age, amidst the circumstances of a very secluded life,to throw off from her altogether those scruples of honesty, thosebugbears of the world, which are apt to prevent great enterprises inthe minds of men.
What should he do next? This sum of money of which Marie wrote soeasily was probably large. It would not have been worth the whileof such a man as Mr. Melmotte to make a trifling provision of thisnature. It could hardly be less than L50,000,--might probably bevery much more. But this was certain to him,--that if he and Mariewere to claim this money as man and wife, there could then be nohope of further liberality. It was not probable that such a manas Mr. Melmotte would forgive even an only child such an offenceas that. Even if it were obtained, L50,000 would not be very much.And Melmotte might probably have means, even if the robbery wereduly perpetrated, of making the possession of the money veryuncomfortable. These were deep waters into which Sir Felix waspreparing to plunge; and he did not feel himself to be altogethercomfortable, although he liked the deep waters.
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