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

very well off. How can you suppose that I shall give my girl to you?” Felix still looked at him but did not dare to contradict a single statement made. Yet when the man told him that he had not a brass farthing he thought of his own thousand pounds which were now in the man’s pocket. “You’re a baronet, and that’s about all, you know,” continued Melmotte. “The Carbury property, which is a very small thing, belongs to a distant cousin who may leave it to me if he pleases;⁠—and who isn’t very much older than you are yourself.”

“Oh, come, Mr. Melmotte; he’s a great deal older than me.”

“It wouldn’t matter if he were as old as Adam. The thing is out of the question, and you must drop it.” Then the look on his brow became a little heavier. “You hear what I say. She is going to marry Lord Nidderdale. She was engaged to him before you ever saw her. What do you expect to get by it?”

Sir Felix had not the courage to say that he expected to get the girl he loved. But as the man waited for an answer he was obliged to say something. “I suppose it’s the old story,” he said.

“Just so;⁠—the old story. You want my money, and she wants you, just because she has been told to take somebody else. You want something to live on;⁠—that’s what you want. Come;⁠—out with it. Is not that it? When we understand each other I’ll put you in the way of making money.”

“Of course I’m not very well off,” said Felix.

“About as badly as any young man that I can hear of. You give me your written promise that you’ll drop this affair with Marie, and you shan’t want for money.”

“A written promise!”

“Yes;⁠—a written promise. I give nothing for nothing. I’ll put you in the way of doing so well with these shares that you shall be able to marry any other girl you please;⁠—or to live without marrying, which you’ll find to be better.”

There was something worthy of consideration in Mr. Melmotte’s proposition. Marriage of itself, simply as a domestic institution, had not specially recommended itself to Sir Felix Carbury. A few horses at Leighton, Ruby Ruggles or any other beauty, and life at the Beargarden were much more to his taste. And then he was quite alive to the fact that it was possible that he might find himself possessed of the wife without the money. Marie, indeed, had a grand plan of her own, with reference to that settled income; but then Marie might be mistaken⁠—or she might be lying. If he were sure of making money in the way Melmotte now suggested, the loss of Marie would not break his heart. But then also Melmotte might be⁠—lying. “By the by, Mr. Melmotte,” said he, “could you let me have those shares?”

“What shares?” And the heavy brow became still heavier.

“Don’t you know?⁠—I gave you a thousand pounds, and I was to have ten shares.”

“You must come about that on the proper day, to the proper place.”

“When is the proper day?”

“It is the twentieth of each month I think.” Sir Felix looked very blank at hearing this, knowing that this present was the twenty-first of the month. “But what does that signify? Do you want a little money?”

“Well, I do,” said Sir Felix. “A lot of fellows owe me money, but it’s so hard to get it.”

“That tells a story of gambling,” said Mr. Melmotte. “You think I’d give my girl to a gambler?”

“Nidderdale’s in it quite as thick as I am.”

“Nidderdale has a settled property which neither he nor his father can destroy. But don’t you be such a fool as to argue with me. You won’t get anything by it. If you’ll write that letter here now⁠—”

“What;⁠—to Marie?”

“No;⁠—not to Marie at all; but to me. It need never be shown to her. If you’ll do that I’ll stick to you and make a man of you. And if you want a couple of hundred pounds I’ll give you a cheque for it before you leave the room. Mind, I can tell you this. On my word of honour as a gentleman, if my daughter were to marry you, she’d never have a single shilling. I should immediately make a will and leave all my property to St. George’s Hospital. I have quite made up my mind about that.”

“And couldn’t you manage that I should have the shares before the twentieth of next month?”

“I’ll see about it. Perhaps I could let you have a few of my own. At any rate I won’t see you short of money.”

The terms were enticing and the letter was of course written. Melmotte himself dictated the words, which were not romantic in their nature. The reader shall see the letter.

Dear Sir,

In consideration of the offers made by you to me, and on a clear understanding that such a marriage would be disagreeable to you and to the lady’s mother, and would bring down a father’s curse upon your daughter, I hereby declare and promise that I will not renew my suit to the young lady, which I hereby altogether renounce.

I am, Dear Sir,

Your obedient Servant,

Felix Carbury.

Augustus Melmotte, Esq.⁠—Grosvenor Square.

The letter was dated 21st July, and bore the printed address of the offices of the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway.

“You’ll give me that cheque for £200, Mr. Melmotte?” The financier hesitated for a moment, but did give the baronet the cheque as promised. “And you’ll see about letting me have those shares?”

“You can come to me in Abchurch Lane, you know.” Sir Felix said that he would call in Abchurch Lane.

As he went westward towards the Beargarden, the baronet was not happy in his mind. Ignorant as he was as to the duties of a gentleman, indifferent as he was to the feelings of others, still he felt ashamed of himself. He was treating the girl very badly. Even he knew that he was