ed;
'but Monsieur!' Marie declared that by no possibility could Monsieur
know anything about it. In that house nobody ever told anything to
Monsieur. He was regarded as the general enemy, against whom the whole
household was always making ambushes, always firing guns from behind
rocks and trees. It is not a pleasant condition for a master of a
house; but in this house the master at any rate knew how he was
placed. It never occurred to him to trust any one. Of course his
daughter might run away. But who would run away with her without
money? And there could be no money except from him. He knew himself
and his own strength. He was not the man to forgive a girl, and then
bestow his wealth on the Lothario who had injured him. His daughter
was valuable to him because she might make him the father-in-law of a
Marquis or an Earl; but the higher that he rose without such
assistance, the less need had he of his daughter's aid. Lord Alfred
was certainly very useful to him. Lord Alfred had whispered into his
ear that by certain conduct and by certain uses of his money, he
himself might be made a baronet. 'But if they should say that I'm not
an Englishman?' suggested Melmotte. Lord Alfred had explained that it
was not necessary that he should have been born in England, or even
that he should have an English name. No questions would be asked. Let
him first get into Parliament, and then spend a little money on the
proper side,--by which Lord Alfred meant the Conservative side,--and be
munificent in his entertainments, and the baronetcy would be almost a
matter of course. Indeed, there was no knowing what honours might not
be achieved in the present days by money scattered with a liberal
hand. In these conversations, Melmotte would speak of his money and
power of making money as though they were unlimited,--and Lord Alfred
believed him.

Marie was dissatisfied with her letter,--not because it described her
father as 'cutting up rough.' To her who had known her father all her
life that was a matter of course. But there was no word of love in the
note. An impassioned correspondence carried on through Didon would be
delightful to her. She was quite capable of loving, and she did love
the young man. She had, no doubt, consented to accept the addresses of
others whom she did not love,--but this she had done at the moment
almost of her first introduction to the marvellous world in which she
was now living. As days went on she ceased to be