simply 'Madame Racine, Passenger
to Liverpool;'--so also was directed a second box, nearly as big, which
was Didon's property. Didon declared that her anxiety would not be
over till she found the ship moving under her. Marie was sure that all
their dangers were over,--if only Sir Felix was safe on board. Poor
Marie! Sir Felix was at this moment in Welbeck Street, striving to
find temporary oblivion for his distressing situation and loss of
money, and some alleviation for his racking temples, beneath the
bedclothes.

When the train ran into the station at Liverpool the two women sat for
a few moments quite quiet. They would not seek remark by any hurry or
noise. The door was opened, and a well-mannered porter offered to take
their luggage. Didon handed out the various packages, keeping however
the jewel-case in her own hands. She left the carriage first, and then
Marie. But Marie had hardly put her foot on the platform, before a
gentleman addressed her, touching his hat, 'You, I think, are Miss
Melmotte.' Marie was struck dumb, but said nothing. Didon immediately
became voluble in French. No; the young lady was not Miss Melmotte;
the young lady was Mademoiselle Racine, her niece. She was Madame
Racine. Melmotte! What was Melmotte? They knew nothing about
Melmottes. Would the gentleman kindly allow them to pass on to their
cab?

But the gentleman would by no means kindly allow them to pass on to
their cab. With the gentleman was another gentleman,--who did not seem
to be quite so much of a gentleman;--and again, not far in the distance
Didon quickly espied a policeman, who did not at present connect
himself with the affair, but who seemed to have his time very much at
command, and to be quite ready if he were wanted. Didon at once gave
up the game,--as regarded her mistress.

'I am afraid I must persist in asserting that you are Miss Melmotte,'
said the gentleman, 'and that this other--person is your servant, Elise
Didon. You speak English, Miss Melmotte.' Marie declared that she
spoke French. 'And English too,' said the gentleman. 'I think you had
better make up your minds to go back to London. I will accompany you.'

'Ah, Didon, nous sommes perdues!' exclaimed Marie. Didon, plucking up
her courage for the moment, asserted the legality of her own position
and of that of her mistress. They had both a right to come to
Liverpool. They had both a right to get into the cab with their
luggage. Nobody had a right to stop