gested that as Lord Nidderdale was
very intimate with Mr Melmotte he might do it. But Nidderdale was not
the man for such a performance. He was a very good fellow and
everybody liked him. He belonged to the House because his father had
territorial influence in a Scotch county;--but he never did anything
there, and his selection for such a duty would be a declaration to the
world that nobody else would do it. 'It wouldn't hurt you, Lupton,'
said Mr Beauclerk. 'Not at all,' said Lupton; 'but I also, like
Nidderdale am a young man and of no use,--and a great deal too bashful.'
Melmotte, who knew but little about it, went down to the House at four
o'clock, somewhat cowed by want of companionship, but carrying out his
resolution that he would be stopped by no phantom fears,--that he would
lose nothing by want of personal pluck. He knew that he was a Member,
and concluded that if he presented himself he would be able to make
his way in and assume his right. But here again fortune befriended
him. The very leader of the party, the very founder of that new
doctrine of which it was thought that Melmotte might become an apostle
and an expounder,--who, as the reader may remember, had undertaken to
be present at the banquet when his colleagues were dismayed and untrue
to him, and who kept his promise and sat there almost in solitude,--he
happened to be entering the House, as his late host was claiming from
the doorkeeper the fruition of his privilege. 'You had better let me
accompany you,' said the Conservative leader, with something of
chivalry in his heart. And so Mr Melmotte was introduced to the House
by the head of his party! When this was seen many men supposed that
the rumours had been proved to be altogether false. Was not this a
guarantee sufficient to guarantee any man's respectability?

Lord Nidderdale saw his father in the lobby of the House of Lords that
afternoon and told him what had occurred. The old man had been in a
state of great doubt since the day of the dinner party. He was aware
of the ruin that would be incurred by a marriage with Melmotte's
daughter, if the things which had been said of Melmotte should be
proved to be true. But he knew also that if his son should now recede,
there must be an end of the match altogether;--and he did not believe
the rumours. He was fully determined that the money should be paid
down before the marriage was celebrated; but if his son were to secede
now, of course no money would