"Did she not come over here to marry some one else?"--For Marie in the days of her sweet intimacy with Sir Felix Carbury had heard something of Mrs. Hurtle's story.

"There is a story, and I dare say I shall tell you all about it some day. But you may be sure I should not ask you to a.s.sociate with any one you ought not to know."

"Oh,--I can take care of myself."

"No doubt, Miss Melmotte,--no doubt. I feel that quite strongly. But what I meant to observe was this,--that I certainly should not introduce a lady whom I aspire to make my own lady to any lady whom a lady oughtn't to know. I hope I make myself understood, Miss Melmotte."

"Oh, quite."

"And perhaps I may go on to say that if I could go on board that ship as your accepted lover, I could do a deal more to make you comfortable, particularly when you land, than just as a mere friend, Miss Melmotte. You can't doubt my heart."

"I don't see why I shouldn't. Gentlemen's hearts are things very much to be doubted as far as I've seen 'em. I don't think many of 'em have 'em at all."

"Miss Melmotte, you do not know the glorious west. Your past experiences have been drawn from this effete and stone-cold country in which pa.s.sion is no longer allowed to sway. On those golden sh.o.r.es which the Pacific washes man is still true,--and woman is still tender."

"Perhaps I'd better wait and see, Mr. Fisker."

But this was not Mr. Fisker's view of the case. There might be other men desirous of being true on those golden sh.o.r.es. "And then," said he, pleading his cause not without skill, "the laws regulating woman's property there are just the reverse of those which the greediness of man has established here. The wife there can claim her share of her husband's property, but hers is exclusively her own.

America is certainly the country for women,--and especially California."

"Ah;--I shall find out all about it, I suppose, when I've been there a few months."

"But you would enter San Francisco, Miss Melmotte, under such much better auspices,--if I may be allowed to say so,--as a married lady or as a lady just going to be married."

"Ain't single ladies much thought of in California?"

"It isn't that. Come, Miss Melmotte, you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do."

"Let us go in for life together. We've both done uncommon well. I'm spending 30,000 dollars a year,--at that rate,--in my own house.

You'll see it all. If we put them both together,--what's yours and what's mine,--we can put our foot out as far as about any one there, I guess."

"I don't know that I care about putting my foot out. I've seen something of that already, Mr. Fisker. You shouldn't put your foot out farther than you can draw it in again."

"You needn't fear me as to that, Miss Melmotte. I shouldn't be able to touch a dollar of your money. It would be such a triumph to go into Francisco as man and wife."

"I shouldn't think of being married till I had been there a while and looked about me."

"And seen the house! Well;--there's something in that. The house is all there, I can tell you. I'm not a bit afraid but what you'll like the house. But if we were engaged, I could do everything for you.

Where would you be, going into San Francisco all alone? Oh, Miss Melmotte, I do admire you so much!"

I doubt whether this last a.s.surance had much efficacy. But the arguments with which it was introduced did prevail to a certain extent. "I'll tell you how it must be then," she said.

"How shall it be?" and as he asked the question he jumped up and put his arm round her waist.

"Not like that, Mr. Fisker," she said, withdrawing herself. "It shall be in this way. You may consider yourself engaged to me."

"I'm the happiest man on this continent," he said, forgetting in his ecstasy that he was not in the United States.

"But if I find when I get to Francisco anything to induce me to change my mind, I shall change it. I like you very well, but I'm not going to take a leap in the dark, and I'm not going to marry a pig in a poke."

"There you're quite right," he said,--"quite right."

"You may give it out on board the ship that we're engaged, and I'll tell Madame Melmotte the same. She and Croll don't mean going any farther than New York."

"We needn't break our hearts about that;--need we?"

"It don't much signify. Well;--I'll go on with Mrs. Hurtle, if she'll have me."

"Too much delighted she'll be."

"And she shall be told we're engaged."

"My darling!"

"But if I don't like it when I get to Frisco, as you call it, all the ropes in California shan't make me do it. Well--yes; you may give me a kiss I suppose now if you care about it." And so,--or rather so far,--Mr. Fisker and Marie Melmotte became engaged to each other as man and wife.

After that Mr. Fisker's remaining business in England went very smoothly with him. It was understood up at Hampstead that he was engaged to Marie Melmotte,--and it soon came to be understood also that Madame Melmotte was to be married to Herr Croll. No doubt the father of the one lady and the husband of the other had died so recently as to make these arrangements subject to certain censorious objections. But there was a feeling that Melmotte had been so unlike other men, both in his life and in his death, that they who had been concerned with him were not to be weighed by ordinary scales. Nor did it much matter, for the persons concerned took their departure soon after the arrangement was made, and Hampstead knew them no more.

On the 3rd of September Madame Melmotte, Marie, Mrs. Hurtle, Hamilton K. Fisker, and Herr Croll left Liverpool for New York; and the three ladies were determined that they never would revisit a country of which their reminiscences certainly were not happy. The writer of the present chronicle may so far look forward,--carrying his reader with him,--as to declare that Marie Melmotte did become Mrs. Fisker very soon after her arrival at San Francisco.

CHAPTER XCIX.

LADY CARBURY AND MR. BROUNE.

When Sir Felix Carbury declared to his friends at the Beargarden that he intended to devote the next few months of his life to foreign travel, and that it was his purpose to take with him a Protestant divine,--as was much the habit with young men of rank and fortune some years since,--he was not altogether lying. There was indeed a sounder basis of truth than was usually to be found attached to his statements. That he should have intended to produce a false impression was a matter of course,--and nearly equally so that he should have made his attempt by a.s.serting things which he must have known that no one would believe. He was going to Germany, and he was going in company with a clergyman, and it had been decided that he should remain there for the next twelve months. A representation had lately been made to the Bishop of London that the English Protestants settled in a certain commercial town in the north-eastern district of Prussia were without pastoral aid, and the bishop had stirred himself in the matter. A clergyman was found willing to expatriate himself, but the income suggested was very small. The Protestant English population of the commercial town in question, though pious, was not liberal. It had come to pa.s.s that the "Morning Breakfast Table" had interested itself in the matter, having appealed for subscriptions after a manner not unusual with that paper. The bishop and all those concerned in the matter had fully understood that if the "Morning Breakfast Table" could be got to take the matter up heartily, the thing would be done. The heartiness had been so complete that it had at last devolved upon Mr. Broune to appoint the clergyman; and, as with all the aid that could be found, the income was still small, the Rev. Septimus Blake,--a brand s.n.a.t.c.hed from the burning of Rome,--had been induced to undertake the maintenance and total charge of Sir Felix Carbury for a consideration. Mr. Broune imparted to Mr. Blake all that there was to know about the baronet, giving much counsel as to the management of the young man, and specially enjoining on the clergyman that he should on no account give Sir Felix the means of returning home. It was evidently Mr. Broune's anxious wish that Sir Felix should see as much as possible of German life, at a comparatively moderate expenditure, and under circ.u.mstances that should be externally respectable if not absolutely those which a young gentleman might choose for his own comfort or profit;--but especially that those circ.u.mstances should not admit of the speedy return to England of the young gentleman himself.

Lady Carbury had at first opposed the scheme. Terribly difficult as was to her the burden of maintaining her son, she could not endure the idea of driving him into exile. But Mr. Broune was very obstinate, very reasonable, and, as she thought, somewhat hard of heart. "What is to be the end of it then?" he said to her, almost in anger. For in those days the great editor, when in presence of Lady Carbury, differed very much from that Mr. Broune who used to squeeze her hand and look into her eyes. His manner with her had become so different that she regarded him as quite another person. She hardly dared to contradict him, and found herself almost compelled to tell him what she really felt and thought. "Do you mean to let him eat up everything you have to your last shilling, and then go to the workhouse with him?"

"Oh, my friend, you know how I am struggling! Do not say such horrid things."

"It is because I know how you are struggling that I find myself compelled to say anything on the subject. What hardship will there be in his living for twelve months with a clergyman in Prussia? What can he do better? What better chance can he have of being weaned from the life he is leading?"

"If he could only be married!"

"Married! Who is to marry him? Why should any girl with money throw herself away upon him?"

"He is so handsome."

"What has his beauty brought him to? Lady Carbury, you must let me tell you that all that is not only foolish but wrong. If you keep him here you will help to ruin him, and will certainly ruin yourself. He has agreed to go;--let him go."

She was forced to yield. Indeed, as Sir Felix had himself a.s.sented, it was almost impossible that she should not do so. Perhaps Mr.

Broune's greatest triumph was due to the talent and firmness with which he persuaded Sir Felix to start upon his travels. "Your mother," said Mr. Broune, "has made up her mind that she will not absolutely beggar your sister and herself in order that your indulgence may be prolonged for a few months. She cannot make you go to Germany of course. But she can turn you out of her house, and, unless you go, she will do so."