The Way We Live Now (34 page)

Perhaps if there is one thing in England more difficult than another to be understood by men born and bred out of England, it is the system under which titles and property descend together, or in various lines. The jurisdiction of our Courts of Law is complex, and so is the business of Parliament But the rules regulating them, though anomalous, are easy to the memory compared with the mixed anomalies of the peerage and primogeniture. They who are brought up among it, learn it as children do a language, but strangers, who begin the study in advanced life, seldom make themselves perfect in it. It was everything to Melmotte that he should understand the ways of the country which he had adopted; and when he did not understand, he was clever at hiding his ignorance. Now he was puzzled. He knew that Sir Felix was a baronet, and therefore presumed him to be the head of the family. He knew that Carbury Manor belonged to Roger Carbury, and he judged by the name it must be an old family property. And now the baronet declared that he was heir to the man who was simply an Esquire. ‘Oh, the heir are you? But how did he get it before you? You're the head of the family?'

‘Yes, I am the head of the family, of course,' said Sir Felix, lying directly. ‘But the place won't be mine till he dies. It would take a long time to explain it all.'

‘He's a young man, isn't he?'

‘No – not what you'd call a young man. He isn't very old.'

‘If he were to marry and have children, how would it be then?'

Sir Felix was beginning to think that he might have told the truth with discretion. ‘I don't quite know how it would be. I have always understood that I am the heir. It's not very likely that he will marry.'

‘And in the meantime what is your own property?'

‘My father left me money in the funds and in railway stock – and then I am my mother's heir.'

‘You have done me the honour of telling me that you wish to marry my daughter.'

‘Certainly.'

‘Would you then object to inform me the amount and nature of the income on which you intend to support your establishment as a married man? I fancy that the position you assume justifies the question on my part.' The bloated swindler, the vile City ruffian, was certainly taking a most ungenerous advantage of the young aspirant for wealth. It was then that Sir Felix felt his own position. Was he not a baronet, and a gentleman, and a very handsome fellow, and a man of the world who had been in a crack regiment? If this surfeited sponge of speculation, this
crammed commercial cormorant, wanted more than that for his daughter, why could he not say so without asking disgusting questions such as these – questions which it was quite impossible that a gentleman should answer? Was it not sufficiently plain that any gentleman proposing to marry the daughter of such a man as Melmotte, must do so under the stress of pecuniary embarrassment? Would it not be an understood bargain that as he provided the rank and position, she would provide the money? And yet the vulgar wretch took advantage of his assumed authority to ask these dreadful questions! Sir Felix stood silent, trying to look the man in the face, but failing – wishing that he was well out of the house, and at the Beargarden. ‘You don't seem to be very clear about your own circumstances, Sir Felix. Perhaps you will get your lawyer to write to me.'

‘Perhaps that will be best,' said the lover.

‘Either that, or to give it up. My daughter, no doubt, will have money; but money expects money.' At this moment Lord Alfred entered the room. ‘You're very late to-day, Alfred. Why didn't you come as you said you would?'

‘I was here more than an hour ago, and they said you were out.'

‘I haven't been out of this room all day – except to lunch. Good afternoon, Sir Felix. Ring the bell, Alfred, and we'll have a little soda and brandy.' Sir Felix had gone through some greeting with his fellow director, Lord Alfred, and at last succeeded in getting Melmotte to shake hands with him before he went. ‘Do you know anything about that young fellow?' Melmotte asked as soon as the door was closed.

‘He's a baronet without a shilling; – was in the army and had to leave it,' said Lord Alfred as he buried his face in a big tumbler.

‘Without a shilling! I supposed so. But he's heir to a place down in Suffolk – eh?'

‘Not a bit of it. It's the same name, and that's about all. Mr Carbury has a small property there, and he might give it to me to-morrow. I wish he would, though there isn't much of it. That young fellow has nothing to do with it whatever.'

‘Hasn't he now!' Mr Melmotte, as he speculated upon it, almost admired the young man's impudence.

Sir Felix as he walked down to his club felt that he had been checkmated – and was at the same time full of wrath at the insolence of the man who had so easily beaten him out of the field. As far as he could see, the game was over. No doubt he might marry Marie Melmotte. The father had told him so much himself, and he perfectly believed the truth of that oath which Marie had sworn. He did not doubt but that she'd stick to him close enough. She was in love with him, which was natural; and was a fool – which was perhaps also natural. But romance was not the game which he was playing. People told him that when girls succeeded in marrying without their parents' consent, fathers were always constrained to forgive them at last. That might be the case with ordinary fathers. But Melmotte was decidedly not an ordinary father. He was – so Sir Felix declared to himself – perhaps the greatest brute ever created. Sir Felix could not but remember that elevation of the eyebrows, and the brazen forehead, and the hard mouth. He had found himself quite unable to stand up against Melmotte, and now he cursed and swore at the man as he was carried down to the Beargarden in a cab.

But what should he do? Should he abandon Marie Melmotte altogether, never go to Grosvenor Square again, and drop the whole family, including the Great Mexican Railway? Then an idea occurred to him. Nidderdale had explained to him the result of his application for shares. ‘You see we haven't bought any and therefore can't sell any. There seems to be something in that. I shall explain it all to my governor, and get him to go a thou' or two. If he sees his way to get the money back, he'd do that and let me have the difference.' On that Sunday afternoon Sir Felix thought over all this. ‘Why shouldn't he “go a thou”, and get the difference?' He made a mental calculation. £12 10s. per £100! £125 for a thousand! and all paid in ready money. As far as Sir Felix could understand, directly the one operation had been perfected the thousand pounds would be available for another. As he looked into it with all his intelligence he thought that he began to perceive that that was the way in which the Melmottes of the world made their money. There was but one objection. He had not got the entire thousand pounds. But luck had been on the whole very good to him. He had more than the half of it in
real money, lying at a bank in the City at which he had opened an account. And he had very much more than the remainder in IOUs from Dolly Longestaffe and Miles Grendall. In fact, if every man had his own – and his bosom glowed with indignation as he reflected on the injustice with which he was kept out of his own – he could go into the City and take up his shares to-morrow, and still have ready money at his command. If he could do this, would not such conduct on his part be the best refutation of that charge of not having any fortune which Melmotte had brought against him? He would endeavour to work the money out of Dolly Longestaffe – and he entertained an idea that though it would be impossible to get cash from Miles Grendall, he might use his claim against Miles in the City. Miles was secretary to the board, and might perhaps contrive that the money required for the shares should not be all ready money. Sir Felix was not very clear about it, but thought that he might possibly in this way use the indebtedness of Miles Grendall. ‘How I do hate a fellow who does not pay up,' he said to himself as he sat alone in his club, waiting for some friend to come in. And he formed in his head Draconic laws which he would fain have executed upon men who lost money at play and did not pay. ‘How the deuce fellows can look one in the face, is what I can't understand,' he said to himself.

He thought over this great stroke of exhibiting himself to Melmotte as a capitalist till he gave up his idea of abandoning his suit. So he wrote a note to Marie Melmotte in accordance with her instructions.

‘
DEAR M
. – Your father cut up very rough – about money. Perhaps you had better see him yourself; or would your mother?

‘Yours always,
F
.'

This, as directed, he put under cover to Madame Didon, Grosvenor Square, and posted at the club. He had put nothing at any rate in the letter which could commit him.

There was generally on Sundays a house dinner, so called, at eight o'clock. Five or six men would sit down, and would always gamble afterwards. On this occasion Dolly Longestaffe sauntered in at about seven in quest of sherry and bitters, and Felix found the opportunity a good one to speak of his money. ‘You couldn't cash your IOUs for me to-morrow; could you?'

‘To-morrow! oh, lord!'

‘I'll tell you why. You know I'd tell you anything because I think we are really friends. I'm after that daughter of Melmotte's.'

‘I'm told you're to have her.'

‘I don't know about that. I mean to try at any rate. I've gone in you know for that board in the City.'

‘I don't know anything about boards, my boy.'

‘Yes, you do, Dolly. You remember that American fellow, Montague's friend that was here one night and won all our money.'

‘The chap that had the waistcoat, and went away in the morning to California. Fancy starting to California after a hard night. I always wondered whether he got there alive.'

‘Well; – I can't explain to you all about it, because you hate these kind of things.'

‘And because I am such a fool.'

‘I don't think you're a fool at all, but it would take a week. But it's absolutely essential for me to take up a lot of shares in the City tomorrow – or perhaps Wednesday might do. I'm bound to pay for them, and old Melmotte will think that I'm utterly hard up if I don't. Indeed he said as much, and the only objection about me and this girl of his is as to money. Can't you understand, now, how important it may be?'

‘It's always important to have a lot of money. I know that.'

‘I shouldn't have gone in for this kind of thing if I hadn't thought I was sure. You know how much you owe me, don't you?'

‘Not in the least.'

‘It's about eleven hundred pounds!'

‘I shouldn't wonder.'

‘And Miles Grendall owes me two thousand. Grasslough and Nidder-dale when they lose always pay with Miles's IOUs.'

‘So should I, if I had them.'

‘It'll come to that soon that there won't be any other stuff going, and they really ain't worth anything. I don't see what's the use of playing when this rubbish is shoved about the table. As for Grendall himself, he has no feeling about it.'

‘Not the least, I should say.'

‘You'll try and get me the money, won't you, Dolly?'

‘Melmotte has been at me twice. He wants me to agree to sell something. He's an old thief, and of course he means to rob me. You may tell him that if he'll let me have the money in the way I've proposed, you are to have a thousand pounds out of it. I don't know any other way.'

‘You could write me that – in a business sort of way.'

‘I couldn't do that, Carbury. What's the use? I never write any letters.
I can't do it. You tell him that; and if the sale comes off, I'll make it straight.'

Miles Grendall also dined there, and after dinner, in the smoking-room, Sir Felix tried to do a little business with the secretary. He began his operations with unusual courtesy, believing that the man must have some influence with the great distributor of shares. ‘I'm going to take up my shares in that company,' said Sir Felix.

‘Ah; – indeed.' And Miles enveloped himself from head to foot in smoke.

‘I didn't quite understand about it, but Nidderdale saw Melmotte and he has explained it. I think I shall go in for a couple of thousand on Wednesday.'

‘Oh; – ah.'

‘It will be the proper thing to do; won't it?'

‘Very good – thing to do!' Miles Grendall smoked harder and harder as the suggestions were made to him.

‘Is it always ready money?'

‘Always ready money,' said Miles shaking his head, as though in reprobation of so abominable an institution.

‘I suppose they allow some time to their own directors, if a deposit, say fifty per cent, is made for the shares?'

‘They'll give you half the number, which would come to the same thing.'

Sir Felix turned this over in his mind, but let him look at it as he would, could not see the truth of his companion's remark. ‘You know I should want to sell again – for the rise.'

‘Oh; you'll want to sell again.'

‘And therefore I must have the full number.'

‘You could sell half the number, you know,' said Miles.

‘I'm determined to begin with ten shares – that's one thousand pounds. Well; – I have got the money, but I don't want to draw out so much. Couldn't you manage for me that I should get them on paying fifty per cent down?'

‘Melmotte does all that himself.'

‘You could explain, you know, that you are a little short in your own payments to me.' This Sir Felix said, thinking it to be a delicate mode of introducing his claim upon the secretary.

‘That's private,' said Miles frowning.

‘Of course it's private; but if you would pay me the money I could buy the shares with it, though they are public.'