jolly I find it. And I wonder whether you'd hate--me?'

'Mr Fisker, that's nonsense. Why should I hate anybody?'

'But you do. I've found out one or two that you don't love. If you do
come to Frisco, I hope you won't just hate me, you know.' Then he took
her gently by the arm;--but she, whisking herself away rapidly, bade
him behave himself. Then they returned to their lodgings, and Mr
Fisker, before he went back to London, mixed a little warm
brandy-and-water for Madame Melmotte. I think that upon the whole
Madame Melmotte was more comfortable at Hampstead than she had been
either in Grosvenor Square or Bruton Street, although she was certainly
not a thing beautiful to look at in her widow's weeds.

'I don't think much of you as a book-keeper, you know,' Fisker said to
Miles Grendall in the now almost deserted Board-room of the South
Central Pacific and Mexican Railway. Miles, remembering his father's
advice, answered not a word, but merely looked with assumed amazement
at the impertinent stranger who dared thus to censure his
performances. Fisker had made three or four remarks previous to this,
and had appealed both to Paul Montague and to Croll, who were present.
He had invited also the attendance of Sir Felix Carbury, Lord
Nidderdale, and Mr Longestaffe, who were all Directors;--but none of
them had come. Sir Felix had paid no attention to Fisker's letter.
Lord Nidderdale had written a short but characteristic reply. 'Dear Mr
Fisker,--I really don't know anything about it. Yours, Nidderdale.' Mr
Longestaffe, with laborious zeal, had closely covered four pages with
his reasons for non-attendance, with which the reader shall not be
troubled, and which it may be doubted whether even Fisker perused to
the end. 'Upon my word,' continued Fisker, 'it's astonishing to me
that Melmotte should have put up with this kind of thing. I suppose
you understand something of business, Mr Croll?'

'It vas not my department, Mr Fisker,' said the German.

'Nor anybody else's either,' said the domineering American. 'Of course
it's on the cards, Mr Grendall, that we shall have to put you into a
witness-box, because there are certain things we must get at.' Miles
was silent as the grave, but at once made up his mind that he would
pass his autumn at some pleasant but economical German retreat, and
that his autumnal retirement should be commenced within a very few
days;--or perhaps hours might suffice.

But Fisker was not in earnest i