ke first one outrageous idea into my head
and then another. My love for you is so thorough and so intense
that I cannot bring myself to look forward to living without
you, now that you have once owned that you have loved me. I
cannot think it possible that love, such as I suppose yours must
have been, could be made to cease all at a moment. Mine can't. I
don't think it is natural that we should be parted.

If you want corroboration of my story go yourself to Mrs Hurtle.
Anything is better than that we both should be broken-hearted.

Yours most affectionately,

PAUL MONTAGUE.

CHAPTER LXXXV - BREAKFAST IN BERKELEY SQUARE

Lord Nidderdale was greatly disgusted with his own part of the
performance when he left the House of Commons, and was, we may say,
disgusted with his own position generally, when he considered all its
circumstances. That had been at the commencement of the evening, and
Melmotte had not then been tipsy; but he had behaved with
unsurpassable arrogance and vulgarity, and had made the young lord
drink the cup of his own disgrace to the very dregs. Everybody now
knew it as a positive fact that the charges made against the man were
to become matter of investigation before the chief magistrate for the
City, everybody knew that he had committed forgery upon forgery,
everybody knew that he could not pay for the property which he had
pretended to buy, and that actually he was a ruined man;--and yet he
had seized Nidderdale by the hand, and called the young lord 'his
dear boy' before the whole House.

And then he had made himself conspicuous as this man's advocate. If he
had not himself spoken openly of his coming marriage with the girl, he
had allowed other men to speak to him about it. He had quarrelled with
one man for saying that Melmotte was a rogue, and had confidentially
told his most intimate friends that in spite of a little vulgarity of
manner, Melmotte at bottom was a very good fellow. How was he now to
back out of his intimacy with the Melmottes generally? He was engaged
to marry the girl, and there was nothing of which he could accuse her.
He acknowledged to himself that she deserved well at his hands. Though
at this moment he hated the father most bitterly, as those odious
words, and the tone in which they had been pronounced, rang in his
ears, nevertheless he had some kindly feeling for the girl. Of course
he could not marry her now. That was manifestly o