tte's daughter. How is your son? I hope he is
better. They told me he had been horribly used by a dreadful man in
the street.'

'Sit down, Miss Melmotte. He is getting better.' Now Lady Carbury had
heard within the last two days from Mr Broune that 'it was all over'
with Melmotte. Broune had declared his very strong belief, his
thorough conviction, that Melmotte had committed various forgeries,
that his speculations had gone so much against him as to leave him a
ruined man, and, in short, that the great Melmotte bubble was on the
very point of bursting. 'Everybody says that he'll be in gaol before a
week is over.' That was the information which had reached Lady Carbury
about the Melmottes only on the previous evening.

'I want to see him,' said Marie. Lady Carbury, hardly knowing what
answer to make, was silent for a while. 'I suppose he told you
everything;--didn't he? You know that we were to have been married? I
loved him very much, and so I do still. I am not ashamed of coming and
telling you.'

'I thought it was all off,' said Lady Carbury.

'I never said so. Does he say so? Your daughter came to me and was
very good to me. I do so love her. She said that it was all over; but
perhaps she was wrong. It shan't be all over if he will be true.'

Lady Carbury was taken greatly by surprise. It seemed to her at the
moment that this young lady, knowing that her own father was ruined,
was looking out for another home, and was doing so with a considerable
amount of audacity. She gave Marie little credit either for affection
or for generosity; but yet she was unwilling to answer her roughly. 'I
am afraid,' she said, 'that it would not be suitable.'

'Why should it not be suitable? They can't take my money away. There
is enough for all of us even if papa wanted to live with us;--but it is
mine. It is ever so much;--I don't know how much, but a great deal. We
should be quite rich enough. I ain't a bit ashamed to come and tell
you, because we were engaged. I know he isn't rich, and I should have
thought it would be suitable.'

It then occurred to Lady Carbury that if this were true the marriage
after all might be suitable. But how was she to find out whether it
was true? 'I understand that your papa is opposed to it,' she said.

'Yes, he is;--but papa can't prevent me, and papa can't make me give up
the money. It's ever so many thousands a year, I know. If I can dare
to do it, why can't he?'

Lady Carbury was so besid