The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

“Was he angry with you?”

“He laughed at me. He manages people till he thinks that everybody must do exactly what he tells them. He may kill me, but I will not do it. 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 everybody that 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 to them⁠—when, suddenly, a heavy step was heard ascending the stairs. “C’est lui,” screamed Madame Melmotte, bustling up from her seat and hurrying out of the room by a side door. The two lovers were alone for one moment, during which Marie lifted up her face, and Sir Felix kissed her lips. “Now be brave,” she said, escaping from his arm, “and I’ll be brave.” Mr. Melmotte looked round the room as he entered. “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 is engaged 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’t do it.”

“She will marry Lord Nidderdale,” continued Mr. Melmotte, addressing himself to Sir Felix. “As that is arranged, you will perhaps think it better to leave us. I shall be happy to renew my acquaintance with you as soon as the fact is recognised;⁠—or happy to see you in the city 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 Lord Nidderdale; and as for that dreadful old man, I could not bear to look at him. Sir Felix is as good a gentleman as he is. If you loved me, papa, you would not want to make me unhappy all my life.”

Her father walked up to her rapidly with his hand raised, and she clung only the closer to her lover’s arm. At this moment Sir Felix did not know what he might best do, but he thoroughly wished himself out in the square. “Jade!” said Melmotte, “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 that other man. Oh, papa, don’t. You hurt me. I am going.” He took her by the 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 hand in causing this disturbance.”

“Go away, and don’t come back any more;⁠—that’s all. You can’t both marry her. All you have got to understand is this. I’m not the man to give 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 cooperate with you in anything you may wish to have done in the city.”

After this Sir Felix left the room, went down the stairs, had the door opened for him, and was ushered into the square. But as he went through the hall a woman managed to shove a note into his hand⁠—which he read as soon as he found himself under a gas lamp. It was dated that morning, and had therefore no reference to the fray which had just taken place. It ran as follows:⁠—

I hope you will come tonight. 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 become engaged to a very enterprising young lady. It was evident that she did not care to what extent she braved her father on behalf of her lover, and now she coolly proposed to rob him. But Sir Felix saw no reason why he should not take advantage of the money made over to the girl’s name, if he could lay his hands on it. He did not know much of such transactions, but he knew more than Marie Melmotte, and could understand that a man in Melmotte’s position should want to secure a portion of his fortune against accidents, by settling it on his daughter. Whether having so settled it, he could again resume it without the daughter’s assent, Sir Felix did not know. Marie, who had no doubt been regarded as an absolutely passive instrument when the thing was done, was now quite alive to the benefit which she might possibly derive from it. Her proposition, put into plain English, amounted to this: “Take me and marry me without my father’s consent⁠—and then you and I together can rob my father of the money which, for his own purposes, he has settled upon me.” He had looked upon the lady of his choice as a poor weak thing, without any special character of her