he gutters. Did you not see
it, mamma? She could not even open her mouth, she was so ashamed of
herself. I shouldn't wonder if they turned out to be something quite
horrid. They make me shudder. Was there ever anything so dreadful to
look at as he is?'

'Everybody goes to them,' said Lady Pomona. 'The Duchess of Stevenage
has been there over and over again, and so has Lady Auld Reekie.
Everybody goes to their house.'

'But everybody doesn't go and live with them. Oh, mamma,--to have to sit
down to breakfast every day for ten weeks with that man and that
woman!'

'Perhaps they'll let you have your breakfast upstairs.'

'But to have to go out with them;--walking into the room after her! Only
think of it!'

'But you are so anxious to be in London, my dear.'

'Of course I am anxious. What other chance have I, mamma? And, oh
dear, I am so tired of it! Pleasure, indeed! Papa talks of pleasure.
If papa had to work half as hard as I do, I wonder what he'd think of
it. I suppose I must do it. I know it will make me so ill that I shall
almost die under it. Horrid, horrid people! And papa to propose it,
who has always been so proud of everything,--who used to think so much
of being with the right set'

'Things are changed, Georgiana,' said the anxious mother.

'Indeed they are when papa wants me to go and stay with people like
that. Why, mamma, the apothecary in Bungay is a fine gentleman
compared with Mr Melmotte, and his wife is a fine lady compared with
Madame Melmotte. But I'll go. If papa chooses me to be seen with such
people it is not my fault. There will be no disgracing one's self
after that. I don't believe in the least that any decent man would
propose to a girl in such a house, and you and papa must not be
surprised if I take some horrid creature from the Stock Exchange. Papa
has altered his ideas; and so, I suppose, I had better alter mine.'

Georgiana did not speak to her father that night, but Lady Pomona
informed Mr Longestaffe that Mr Melmotte's invitation was to be
accepted. She herself would write a line to Madame Melmotte, and
Georgiana would go up on the Friday following. 'I hope she'll like
it,' said Mr Longestaffe. The poor man had no intention of irony. It
was not in his nature to be severe after that fashion. But to poor
Lady Pomona the words sounded very cruel. How could any one like to
live in a house with Mr and Madame Melmotte!

On the Friday morning there was a little conversation between