ust it, Mr Melmotte. When the summer comes one does long
so to see the flowers.'

'We have better flowers in our balconies than any I see down here,'
said Mr Melmotte.

'No doubt;--because you can command the floral tribute of the world at
large. What is there that money will not do? It can turn a London
street into a bower of roses, and give you grottoes in Grosvenor
Square.'

'It's a very nice place, is London.'

'If you have got plenty of money, Mr Melmotte.'

'And if you have not, it's the best place I know to get it. Do you
live in London, ma'am?' He had quite forgotten Lady Carbury even if he
had seen her at his house, and with the dulness of hearing common to
men, had not picked up her name when told to take her out to dinner.
'Oh, yes, I live in London. I have had the honour of being entertained
by you there.' This she said with her sweetest smile.

'Oh, indeed. So many do come, that I don't always just remember.'

'How should you,--with all the world flocking round you? I am Lady
Carbury, the mother of Sir Felix Carbury, whom I think you will
remember.'

'Yes; I know Sir Felix. He's sitting there, next to my daughter.'

'Happy fellow!'

'I don't know much about that. Young men don't get their happiness in
that way now. They've got other things to think of.'

'He thinks so much of his business.'

'Oh! I didn't know,' said Mr Melmotte.

'He sits at the same Board with you, I think, Mr Melmotte.'

'Oh;--that's his business!' said Mr Melmotte, with a grim smile.

Lady Carbury was very clever as to many things, and was not
ill-informed on matters in general that were going on around her; but
she did not know much about the city, and was profoundly ignorant as
to the duties of those Directors of whom, from time to time, she saw
the names in a catalogue. 'I trust that he is diligent there,' she
said; 'and that he is aware of the great privilege which he enjoys in
having the advantage of your counsel and guidance.'

'He don't trouble me much, ma'am, and I don't trouble him much.' After
this Lady Carbury said no more as to her son's position in the city.
She endeavoured to open various other subjects of conversation; but
she found Mr Melmotte to be heavy on her hands. After a while she had
to abandon him in despair, and give herself up to raptures in favour
of Protestantism at the bidding of the Caversham parson, who sat on
the other side of her, and who had been worked to enthusiasm by some
mention