ask Miles. He and Nidderdale were good friends; but
Nidderdale wanted the girl for himself. Grasslough would be sure to
tell Nidderdale. Dolly would be altogether useless. He thought that,
perhaps, Herr Vossner would be the man to help him. There would be no
difficulty out of which Herr Vossner would not extricate 'a fellow,'--
if 'the fellow' paid him.

On Thursday evening he went to Grosvenor Square, as desired by Marie,--
but unfortunately found Melmotte in the drawing-room. Lord Nidderdale
was there also, and his lordship's old father, the Marquis of Auld
Reekie, whom Felix, when he entered the room, did not know. He was a
fierce-looking, gouty old man, with watery eyes, and very stiff grey
hair,--almost white. He was standing up supporting himself on two sticks
when Sir Felix entered the room. There were also present Madame
Melmotte, Miss Longestaffe, and Marie. As Felix had entered the hail
one huge footman had said that the ladies were not at home; then there
had been for a moment a whispering behind a door,--in which he
afterwards conceived that Madame Didon had taken a part;--and upon that
a second tall footman had contradicted the first and had ushered him
up to the drawing-room. He felt considerably embarrassed, but shook
hands with the ladies, bowed to Melmotte, who seemed to take no notice
of him, and nodded to Lord Nidderdale. He had not had time to place
himself, when the Marquis arranged things. 'Suppose we go downstairs,'
said the Marquis.

'Certainly, my lord,' said Melmotte. 'I'll show your lordship the
way.' The Marquis did not speak to his son, but poked at him with his
stick, as though poking him out of the door. So instigated, Nidderdale
followed the financier, and the gouty old Marquis toddled after them.

Madame Melmotte was beside herself with trepidation. 'You should not
have been made to come up at all,' she said. 'Il faut que vous vous
retiriez.'

'I am very sorry,' said Sir Felix, looking quite aghast. 'I think that
I had at any rate better retire,' said Miss Longestaffe, raising
herself to her full height and stalking out of the room.

'Qu'elle est mechante,' said Madame Melmotte. 'Oh, she is so bad. Sir
Felix, you had better go too. Yes indeed.'

'No,' said Marie, running to him, and taking hold of his arm. 'Why
should he go? I want papa to know.'

'Il vous tuera,' said Madame Melmotte. 'My God, yes.'

'Then he shall,' said Marie, clinging to her lover. 'I will never
marry Lord