e her now. You can't go
alone, you know,' Lady Carbury added. But Hetta said that she did not
at all object to going alone as far as that. It was only just over
Oxford Street.

So she went out and made her way into Grosvenor Square. She had heard,
but at the time remembered nothing, of the temporary migration of the
Melmottes to Bruton Street. Seeing, as she approached the house, that
there was a confusion there of carts and workmen, she hesitated. But
she went on, and rang the bell at the door, which was wide open.
Within the hall the pilasters and trophies, the wreaths and the
banners, which three or four days since had been built up with so much
trouble, were now being pulled down and hauled away. And amidst the
ruins Melmotte himself was standing. He was now a member of
Parliament, and was to take his place that night in the House.
Nothing, at any rate, should prevent that. It might be but for a short
time;--but it should be written in the history of his life that he had
sat in the British House of Commons as member for Westminster. At the
present moment he was careful to show himself everywhere. It was now
noon, and he had already been into the City. At this moment he was
talking to the contractor for the work,--having just propitiated that
man by a payment which would hardly have been made so soon but for the
necessity which these wretched stories had entailed upon him of
keeping up his credit for the possession of money. Hetta timidly asked
one of the workmen whether Miss Melmotte was there. 'Do you want my
daughter?' said Melmotte coming forward, and just touching his
hat. 'She is not living here at present.'

'Oh,--I remember now,' said Hetta.

'May I be allowed to tell her who was asking after her?' At the
present moment Melmotte was not unreasonably suspicious about his
daughter.

'I am Miss Carbury,' said Hetta in a very low voice.

'Oh, indeed;--Miss Carbury!--the sister of Sir Felix Carbury?' There
was something in the tone of the man's voice which grated painfully on
Hetta's ears,--but she answered the question. 'Oh;--Sir Felix's sister!
May I be permitted to ask whether--you have any business with my
daughter?' The story was a hard one to tell, with all the workmen
around her, in the midst of the lumber, with the coarse face of the
suspicious man looking down upon her; but she did tell it very simply.
She had come with a message from her brother. There had been something
between her brother and Mi