the woman that went with you?'

'She's gone on board the ship.'

'And where is the money you took from your mother?' Marie was silent.
'Who got the cheque changed?'

'Didon did.'

'And has she got the money?'

'No, papa.'

'Have you got it?'

'No, papa.'

'Did you give it to Sir Felix Carbury?'

'Yes, papa.'

'Then I'll be hanged if I don't prosecute him for stealing it.'

'Oh, papa, don't do that;--pray don't do that. He didn't steal it. I
only gave it him to take care of for us. He'll give it you back
again.'

'I shouldn't wonder if he lost it at cards, and therefore didn't go to
Liverpool. Will you give me your word that you'll never attempt to
marry him again if I don't prosecute him?' Marie considered. 'Unless
you do that I shall go to a magistrate at once.'

'I don't believe you can do anything to him. He didn't steal it. I
gave it to him.'

'Will you promise me?'

'No, papa, I won't. What's the good of promising when I should only
break it. Why can't you let me have the man I love? What's the good of
all the money if people don't have what they like?'

'All the money!--What do you know about the money? Look here,' and he
took her by the arm. 'I've been very good to you. You've had your
share of everything that has been going;--carriages and horses,
bracelets and brooches, silks and gloves, and every thing else.' He
held her very hard and shook her as he spoke.

'Let me go, papa; you hurt me. I never asked for such things. I don't
care a straw about bracelets and brooches.'

'What do you care for?'

'Only for somebody to love me,' said Marie, looking down.

'You'll soon have nobody to love you if you go on this fashion. You've
had everything done for you, and if you don't do something for me in
return, by G----, you shall have a hard time of it. If you weren't such
a fool you'd believe me when I say that I know more than you do.'

'You can't know better than me what'll make me happy.'

'Do you think only of yourself? If you'll marry Lord Nidderdale you'll
have a position in the world which nothing can take from you.'

'Then I won't,' said Marie firmly. Upon this he shook her till she
cried, and calling for Madame Melmotte desired his wife not to let the
girl for one minute out of her presence.

The condition of Sir Felix was I think worse than that of the lady
with whom he was to have run away. He had played at the Beargarden
till four in the morning and had then left the club, on