er husband, retreating to his own
domain, finished his operations. 'Damask,' she said, when he
reappeared, 'one thing is certain;--we can't go.'

'After you've made such a fuss about it!'

'It is a pity,--having that girl here in the house. You know, don't
you, she's going to marry one of these people?'

'I heard about her marriage yesterday. But Brehgert isn't one of
Melmotte's set. They tell me that Brehgert isn't a bad fellow. A
vulgar cad, and all that, but nothing wrong about him.'

'He's a Jew, and he's seventy years old, and makes up horribly.'

'What does it matter to you if he's eighty? You are determined, then,
you won't go?'

But Lady Monogram had by no means determined that she wouldn't go. She
had paid her price, and with that economy which sticks to a woman
always in the midst of her extravagances, she could not bear to lose
the thing that she had bought. She cared nothing for Melmotte's
villainy, as regarded herself. That he was enriching himself by the
daily plunder of the innocent she had taken for granted since she had
first heard of him. She had but a confused idea of any difference
between commerce and fraud. But it would grieve her greatly to become
known as one of an awkward squad of people who had driven to the door,
and perhaps been admitted to some wretched gathering of wretched
people,--and not, after all, to have met the Emperor and the Prince.
But then, should she hear on the next morning that the Emperor and the
Princes, that the Princesses, and the Duchesses, with the Ambassadors,
Cabinet Ministers, and proper sort of world generally, had all been
there,--that the world, in short, had ignored Melmotte's villainy,--
then would her grief be still greater. She sat down to dinner with her
husband and Miss Longestaffe, and could not talk freely on the matter.
Miss Longestaffe was still a guest of the Melmottes, although she had
transferred herself to the Monograms for a day or two. And a horrible
idea crossed Lady Monogram's mind. What should she do with her friend
Georgiana if the whole Melmotte establishment were suddenly broken up?
Of course, Madame Melmotte would refuse to take the girl back if her
husband were sent to gaol. 'I suppose you'll go,' said Sir Damask as
the ladies left the room.

'Of course we shall,--in about an hour,' said Lady Monogram as she left
the room, looking round at him and rebuking him for his imprudence.

'Because, you know--' and then he called her back. '