cad, and if he
meddles with my affairs again, I shall tell him what I think of him.
Upon my word, mother, these little disputes up in my bedroom ain't
very pleasant. Of course it's your house; but if you do allow me a
room, I think you might let me have it to myself.' It was impossible
for Lady Carbury, in her present mood, and in his present mood, to
explain to him that in no other way and at no other time could she
ever find him. If she waited till he came down to breakfast, he
escaped from her in five minutes, and then he returned no more till
some unholy hour in the morning. She was as good a pelican as ever
allowed the blood to be torn from her own breast to satisfy the greed
of her young, but she felt that she should have something back for her
blood,--some return for her sacrifices. This chick would take all as
long as there was a drop left, and then resent the fondling of the
mother-bird as interference. Again and again there came upon her
moments in which she thought that Roger Carbury was right. And yet she
knew that when the time came she would not be able to be severe. She
almost hated herself for the weakness of her own love,--but she
acknowledged it. If he should fall utterly, she must fall with him. In
spite of his cruelty, his callous hardness, his insolence to herself,
his wickedness, and ruinous indifference to the future, she must cling
to him to the last. All that she had done, and all that she had borne,
all that she was doing and bearing,--was it not for his sake?

Sir Felix had been in Grosvenor Square since his return from Carbury,
and had seen Madame Melmotte and Marie; but he had seen them together,
and not a word had been said about the engagement. He could not make
much use of the elder woman. She was as gracious as was usual with
her; but then she was never very gracious. She had told him that Miss
Longestaffe was coming to her, which was a great bore, as the young
lady was 'fatigante.' Upon this Marie had declared that she intended
to like the young lady very much. 'Pooh!' said Madame Melmotte. 'You
never like no person at all.' At this Marie had looked over to her
lover and smiled. 'Ah, yes; that is all very well,--while it lasts; but
you care for no friend.' From which Felix had judged that Madame
Melmotte at any rate knew of his offer, and did not absolutely
disapprove of it. On the Saturday he had received a note at his club
from Marie. 'Come on Sunday at half-past two. You will find p