The Way We Live Now

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER LXXIV.

  MELMOTTE MAKES A FRIEND.

  "Have you been thinking any more about it?" Lord Nidderdale said tothe girl as soon as Madame Melmotte had succeeded in leaving themalone together.

  "I have thought ever so much more about it," said Marie.

  "And what's the result?"

  "Oh,--I'll have you."

  "That's right," said Nidderdale, throwing himself on the sofa closeto her, so that he might put his arm round her waist.

  "Wait a moment, Lord Nidderdale," she said.

  "You might as well call me John."

  "Then wait a moment,--John. You think you might as well marry me,though you don't love me a bit."

  "That's not true, Marie."

  "Yes it is;--it's quite true. And I think just the same,--that Imight as well marry you, though I don't love you a bit."

  "But you will."

  "I don't know. I don't feel like it just at present. You had betterknow the exact truth, you know. I have told my father that I did notthink you'd ever come again, but that if you did I would accept you.But I'm not going to tell any stories about it. You know who I'vebeen in love with."

  "But you can't be in love with him now."

  "Why not? I can't marry him. I know that. And if he were to come tome, I don't think that I would. He has behaved bad."

  "Have I behaved bad?"

  "Not like him. You never did care, and you never said you cared."

  "Oh yes,--I have."

  "Not at first. You say it now because you think that I shall like it.But it makes no difference now. I don't mind about your arm beingthere if we are to be married, only it's just as well for both of usto look on it as business."

  "How very hard you are, Marie."

  "No, I ain't. I wasn't hard to Sir Felix Carbury, and so I tell you.I did love him."

  "Surely you have found him out now."

  "Yes, I have," said Marie. "He's a poor creature."

  "He has just been thrashed, you know, in the streets,--mosthorribly." Marie had not been told of this, and started back from herlover's arms. "You hadn't heard it?"

  "Who has thrashed him?"

  "I don't want to tell the story against him, but they say he has beencut about in a terrible manner."

  "Why should anybody beat him? Did he do anything?"

  "There was a young lady in the question, Marie."

  "A young lady! What young lady? I don't believe it. But it's nothingto me. I don't care about anything, Lord Nidderdale;--not a bit. Isuppose you've made up all that out of your own head."

  "Indeed, no. I believe he was beaten, and I believe it was about ayoung woman. But it signifies nothing to me, and I don't suppose itsignifies much to you. Don't you think we might fix a day, Marie?"

  "I don't care the least," said Marie. "The longer it's put off thebetter I shall like it;--that's all."

  "Because I'm so detestable?"

  "No,--you ain't detestable. I think you are a very good fellow; onlyyou don't care for me. But it is detestable not being able to do whatone wants. It's detestable having to quarrel with everybody and neverto be good friends with anybody. And it's horribly detestable havingnothing on earth to give one any interest."

  "You couldn't take any interest in me?"

  "Not the least."

  "Suppose you try. Wouldn't you like to know anything about the placewhere we live?"

  "It's a castle, I know."

  "Yes;--Castle Reekie; ever so many hundred years old."

  "I hate old places. I should like a new house, and a new dress, anda new horse every week,--and a new lover. Your father lives at thecastle. I don't suppose we are to go and live there too."

  "We shall be there sometimes. When shall it be?"

  "The year after next."

  "Nonsense, Marie."

  "To-morrow."

  "You wouldn't be ready."

  "You may manage it all just as you like with papa. Oh, yes,--kissme; of course you may. If I'm to belong to you what does it matter?No;--I won't say that I love you. But if ever I do say it, youmay be sure it will be true. That's more than you can say ofyourself,--John."

  So the interview was over and Nidderdale walked back to the housethinking of his lady love, as far as he was able to bring his mind toany operation of thinking. He was fully determined to go on with it.As far as the girl herself was concerned, she had, in these latterdays, become much more attractive to him than when he had first knownher. She certainly was not a fool. And, though he could not tellhimself that she was altogether like a lady, still she had a mannerof her own which made him think that she would be able to live withladies. And he did think that, in spite of all she said to thecontrary, she was becoming fond of him,--as he certainly had becomefond of her. "Have you been up with the ladies?" Melmotte asked him.

  "Oh yes."

  "And what does Marie say?"

  "That you must fix the day."

  "We'll have it very soon then;--some time next month. You'll want toget away in August. And to tell the truth so shall I. I never wasworked so hard in my life as I've been this summer. The election andthat horrid dinner had something to do with it. And I don't mindtelling you that I've had a fearful weight on my mind in reference tomoney. I never had to find so many large sums in so short a time! AndI'm not quite through it yet."

  "I wonder why you gave the dinner then."

  "My dear boy,"--it was very pleasant to him to call the son of amarquis his dear boy,--"as regards expenditure that was a flea-bite.Nothing that I could spend myself would have the slightest effectupon my condition,--one way or the other."

  "I wish it could be the same way with me," said Nidderdale.

  "If you chose to go into business with me instead of taking Marie'smoney out, it very soon would be so with you. But the burden is verygreat. I never know whence these panics arise, or why they come, orwhither they go. But when they do come, they are like a storm at sea.It is only the strong ships that can stand the fury of the winds andwaves. And then the buffeting which a man gets leaves him only halfthe man he was. I've had it very hard this time."

  "I suppose you are getting right now."

  "Yes;--I am getting right. I am not in any fear if you mean that. Idon't mind telling you everything as it is settled now that you areto be Marie's husband. I know that you are honest, and that if youcould hurt me by repeating what I say you wouldn't do it."

  "Certainly I would not."

  "You see I've no partner,--nobody that is bound to know my affairs.My wife is the best woman in the world, but is utterly unable tounderstand anything about it. Of course I can't talk freely to Marie.Cohenlupe whom you see so much with me is all very well,--in his way,but I never talk over my affairs with him. He is concerned with me inone or two things,--our American railway for instance, but he has nointerest generally in my house. It is all on my own shoulders, andI can tell you the weight is a little heavy. It will be the greatestcomfort to me in the world if I can get you to have an interest inthe matter."

  "I don't suppose I could ever really be any good at business," saidthe modest young lord.

  "You wouldn't come and work, I suppose. I shouldn't expect that. ButI should be glad to think that I could tell you how things are goingon. Of course you heard all that was said just before the election.For forty-eight hours I had a very bad time of it then. The factwas that Alf and they who were supporting him thought that theycould carry the election by running me down. They were at it fora fortnight,--perfectly unscrupulous as to what they said or whatharm they might do me and others. I thought that very cruel. Theycouldn't get their man in, but they could and did have the effect ofdepreciating my property suddenly by nearly half a million of money.Think what that is!"

  "I don't understand how it could be done."

  "Because you don't understand how delicate a thing is credit. Theypersuaded a lot of men to stay away from that infernal dinner, andconsequently it was spread about the town that I was ruined. Theeffect upon shares which I held w
as instantaneous and tremendous. TheMexican railway were at 117, and they fell from that in two days tosomething quite nominal,--so that selling was out of the question.Cohenlupe and I between us had about 8,000 of these shares. Thinkwhat that comes to!" Nidderdale tried to calculate what it did cometo, but failed altogether. "That's what I call a blow;--a terribleblow. When a man is concerned as I am with money interests, andconcerned largely with them all, he is of course exchanging oneproperty for another every day of his life,--according as the marketsgo. I don't keep such a sum as that in one concern as an investment.Nobody does. Then when a panic comes, don't you see how it hits?"

  "Will they never go up again?"

  "Oh yes;--perhaps higher than ever. But it will take time. And in themeantime I am driven to fall back upon property intended for otherpurposes. That's the meaning of what you hear about that place downin Sussex which I bought for Marie. I was so driven that I wasobliged to raise forty or fifty thousand wherever I could. But thatwill be all right in a week or two. And as for Marie's money,--that,you know, is settled."

  He quite succeeded in making Nidderdale believe every word that hespoke, and he produced also a friendly feeling in the young man'sbosom, with something approaching to a desire that he might be ofservice to his future father-in-law. Hazily, as through a thick fog,Lord Nidderdale thought that he did see something of the troubles, ashe had long seen something of the glories, of commerce on an extendedscale, and an idea occurred to him that it might be almost moreexciting than whist or unlimited loo. He resolved too that whateverthe man might tell him should never be divulged. He was on thisoccasion somewhat captivated by Melmotte, and went away from theinterview with a conviction that the financier was a big man;--onewith whom he could sympathise, and to whom in a certain way he couldbecome attached.

  And Melmotte himself had derived positive pleasure even from asimulated confidence in his son-in-law. It had been pleasant tohim to talk as though he were talking to a young friend whom hetrusted. It was impossible that he could really admit any one to aparticipation in his secrets. It was out of the question that heshould ever allow himself to be betrayed into speaking the truth ofhis own affairs. Of course every word he had said to Nidderdale hadbeen a lie, or intended to corroborate lies. But it had not beenonly on behalf of the lies that he had talked after this fashion.Even though his friendship with the young man were but a mockfriendship,--though it would too probably be turned into bitterenmity before three months had passed by,--still there was a pleasurein it. The Grendalls had left him since the day of the dinner,--Mileshaving sent him a letter up from the country complaining of severeillness. It was a comfort to him to have someone to whom he couldspeak, and he much preferred Nidderdale to Miles Grendall.

  This conversation took place in the smoking-room. When it was overMelmotte went into the House, and Nidderdale strolled away tothe Beargarden. The Beargarden had been opened again though withdifficulty, and with diminished luxury. Nor could even this be donewithout rigid laws as to the payment of ready money. Herr Vossner hadnever more been heard of, but the bills which Vossner had left unpaidwere held to be good against the club, whereas every note of handwhich he had taken from the members was left in the possession of Mr.Flatfleece. Of course there was sorrow and trouble at the Beargarden;but still the institution had become so absolutely necessary to itsmembers that it had been reopened under a new management. No one hadfelt this need more strongly during every hour of the day,--of theday as he counted his days, rising as he did about an hour after noonand going to bed three or four hours after midnight,--than did DollyLongestaffe. The Beargarden had become so much to him that he hadbegun to doubt whether life would be even possible without such aresort for his hours. But now the club was again open, and Dollycould have his dinner and his bottle of wine with the luxury to whichhe was accustomed.

  But at this time he was almost mad with the sense of injury.Circumstances had held out to him a prospect of almost unlimited easeand indulgence. The arrangement made as to the Pickering estate wouldpay all his debts, would disembarrass his own property, and wouldstill leave him a comfortable sum in hand. Squercum had told him thatif he would stick to his terms he would surely get them. He had stuckto his terms and he had got them. And now the property was sold, andthe title-deeds gone,--and he had not received a penny! He did notknow whom to be loudest in abusing,--his father, the Bideawhiles, orMr. Melmotte. And then it was said that he had signed that letter! Hewas very open in his manner of talking about his misfortune at theclub. His father was the most obstinate old fool that ever lived. Asfor the Bideawhiles,--he would bring an action against them. Squercumhad explained all that to him. But Melmotte was the biggest roguethe world had ever produced. "By George! the world," he said, "mustbe coming to an end. There's that infernal scoundrel sitting inParliament just as if he had not robbed me of my property, and forgedmy name, and--and--by George! he ought to be hung. If any man everdeserved to be hung, that man deserves to be hung." This he spokeopenly in the coffee-room of the club, and was still speaking asNidderdale was taking his seat at one of the tables. Dolly had beendining, and had turned round upon his chair so as to face somehalf-dozen men whom he was addressing.

  Nidderdale leaving his chair walked up to him very gently. "Dolly,"said he, "do not go on in that way about Melmotte when I am in theroom. I have no doubt you are mistaken, and so you'll find out in aday or two. You don't know Melmotte."

  "Mistaken!" Dolly still continued to exclaim with a loud voice. "AmI mistaken in supposing that I haven't been paid my money?"

  "I don't believe it has been owing very long."

  "Am I mistaken in supposing that my name has been forged to aletter?"

  "I am sure you are mistaken if you think that Melmotte had anythingto do with it."

  "Squercum says--"

  "Never mind Squercum. We all know what are the suspicions of a fellowof that kind."

  "I'd believe Squercum a deuced sight sooner than Melmotte."

  "Look here, Dolly. I know more probably of Melmotte's affairs thanyou do or perhaps than anybody else. If it will induce you to remainquiet for a few days and to hold your tongue here,--I'll make myselfresponsible for the entire sum he owes you."

  "The devil you will."

  "I will indeed."

  Nidderdale was endeavouring to speak so that only Dolly should hearhim, and probably nobody else did hear him; but Dolly would not lowerhis voice. "That's out of the question, you know," he said. "Howcould I take your money? The truth is, Nidderdale, the man is athief, and so you'll find out, sooner or later. He has broken open adrawer in my father's room and forged my name to a letter. Everybodyknows it. Even my governor knows it now,--and Bideawhile. Before manydays are over you'll find that he will be in gaol for forgery."

  This was very unpleasant, as every one knew that Nidderdale waseither engaged or becoming engaged to Melmotte's daughter. "Since youwill speak about it in this public way--" began Nidderdale.

  "I think it ought to be spoken about in a public way," said Dolly.

  "I deny it as publicly. I can't say anything about the letter exceptthat I am sure Mr. Melmotte did not put your name to it. From what Iunderstand there seems to have been some blunder between your fatherand his lawyer."

  "That's true enough," said Dolly; "but it doesn't excuse Melmotte."

  "As to the money, there can be no more doubt that it will be paidthan that I stand here. What is it?--twenty-five thousand, isn't it?"

  "Eighty thousand, the whole."

  "Well,--eighty thousand. It's impossible to suppose that such a manas Melmotte shouldn't be able to raise eighty thousand pounds."

  "Why don't he do it then?" asked Dolly.

  All this was very unpleasant and made the club less social thanit used to be in old days. There was an attempt that night to getup a game of cards; but Nidderdale would not play because he wasoffended with Dolly Longestaffe; and Miles Grendall was away in thecountry,--a fugitive from the face of Melmotte, and Carbury was inhiding at home with
his countenance from top to bottom supportedby plasters, and Montague in these days never went to the club. Atthe present moment he was again in Liverpool, having been summonedthither by Mr. Ramsbottom. "By George," said Dolly, as he filledanother pipe and ordered more brandy and water, "I think everythingis going to come to an end. I do indeed. I never heard of such athing before as a man being done in this way. And then Vossner hasgone off, and it seems everybody is to pay just what he says theyowed him. And now one can't even get up a game of cards. I feel asthough there were no good in hoping that things would ever come rightagain."

  The opinion of the club was a good deal divided as to the matterin dispute between Lord Nidderdale and Dolly Longestaffe. It wasadmitted by some to be "very fishy." If Melmotte were so great a manwhy didn't he pay the money, and why should he have mortgaged theproperty before it was really his own? But the majority of the menthought that Dolly was wrong. As to the signature of the letter,Dolly was a man who would naturally be quite unable to say what hehad and what he had not signed. And then, even into the Beargardenthere had filtered, through the outer world, a feeling that peoplewere not now bound to be so punctilious in the paying of money asthey were a few years since. No doubt it suited Melmotte to make useof the money, and therefore,--as he had succeeded in getting theproperty into his hands,--he did make use of it. But it would beforthcoming sooner or later! In this way of looking at the matter theBeargarden followed the world at large. The world at large, in spiteof the terrible falling-off at the Emperor of China's dinner, inspite of all the rumours, in spite of the ruinous depreciation ofthe Mexican Railway stock, and of the undoubted fact that DollyLongestaffe had not received his money, was inclined to think thatMelmotte would "pull through."