r was dull, and her father pompous and often cross; but they were
in the right set,--miles removed from the Brehgerts and Melmottes,--
until her father himself had suggested to her that she should go to the
house in Grosvenor Square. She would write one letter to-night; but
there was a question in her mind whether the letter should be written
to her mother telling her the horrid truth,--or to Mr Brehgert begging
that the match should be broken off. I think she would have decided on
the latter had it not been that so many people had already heard of
the match. The Monograms knew it, and had of course talked far and
wide. The Melmottes knew it, and she was aware that Lord Nidderdale
had heard it. It was already so far known that it was sure to be
public before the end of the season. Each morning lately she had
feared that a letter from home would call upon her to explain the
meaning of some frightful rumours reaching Caversham, or that her
father would come to her and with horror on his face demand to know
whether it was indeed true that she had given her sanction to so
abominable a report.

And there were other troubles. She had just spoken to Madame Melmotte
this evening, having met her late hostess as she entered the
drawing-room, and had felt from the manner of her reception that she
was not wanted back again. She had told her father that she was going
to transfer herself to the Monograms for a time, not mentioning the
proposed duration of her visit, and Mr Longestaffe, in his ambiguous
way, had expressed himself glad that she was leaving the Melmottes.
She did not think that she could go back to Grosvenor Square, although
Mr Brehgert desired it. Since the expression of Mr Brehgert's wishes
she had perceived that ill-will had grown up between her father and Mr
Melmotte. She must return to Caversham. They could not refuse to take
her in, though she had betrothed herself to a Jew!

If she decided that the story should be told to her mother it would be
easier to tell it by letter than by spoken words, face to face. But
then if she wrote the letter there would be no retreat;--and how should
she face her family after such a declaration? She had always given
herself credit for courage, and now she wondered at her own cowardice.
Even Lady Monogram, her old friend Julia Triplex, had trampled upon
her. Was it not the business of her life, in these days, to do the
best she could for herself, and would she allow paltry consider