think of him.
I'll marry that other man to spite him, and then, when he finds that
we are rich, he'll be broken-hearted.'

'You should try to forgive him, Marie.'

'Never. Do not tell him that I forgive him. I command you not to tell
him that. Tell him,--tell him, that I hate him, and that if I ever meet
him, I will look at him so that he shall never forget it. I could,--oh!
--you do not know what I could do. Tell me;--did he tell you to say
that he did not love me?'

'I wish I had not come,' said Hetta.

'I am glad you have come. It was very kind. I don't hate you. Of
course I ought to know. But did he say that I was to be told that he
did not love me?'

'No;--he did not say that.'

'Then how do you know? What did he say?'

'That it was all over.'

'Because he is afraid of papa. Are you sure he does not love me?'

'I am sure.'

'Then he is a brute. Tell him that I say that he is a false-hearted
liar, and that I trample him under my foot.' Marie as she said this
thrust her foot upon the ground as though that false one were in truth
beneath it,--and spoke aloud, as though regardless who might hear her.
'I despise him;--despise him. They are all bad, but he is the worst of
all. Papa beats me, but I can bear that. Mamma reviles me and I can
bear that. He might have beaten me and reviled me, and I could have
borne it. But to think that he was a liar all the time;--that I can't
bear.' Then she burst into tears. Hetta kissed her, tried to comfort
her, and left her sobbing on the sofa.

Later in the day, two or three hours after Miss Carbury had gone,
Marie Melmotte, who had not shown herself at luncheon, walked into
Madame Melmotte's room, and thus declared her purpose. 'You can tell
papa that I will marry Lord Nidderdale whenever he pleases.' She spoke
in French and very rapidly.

On hearing this Madame Melmotte expressed herself to be delighted.
'Your papa,' said she, 'will be very glad to hear that you have
thought better of this at last. Lord Nidderdale is, I am sure, a very
good young man.'

'Yes,' continued Marie, boiling over with passion as she spoke. 'I'll
marry Lord Nidderdale, or that horrid Mr Grendall who is worse than
all the others, or his old fool of a father,--or the sweeper at the
crossing,--or the black man that waits at table, or anybody else that
he chooses to pick up. I don't care who it is the least in the world.
But I'll lead him such a life afterwards! I'll make Lord Nidderdale
rep