The Way We Live Now (World's Classics Series). Anthony Trollope

that it will be the least good. It would be quite unnatural to him to pay anything.”

      “Fellows used to pay their gambling debts,” said Sir Felix, who was still in funds, and who still held a considerable assortment of I.O.U.’s.

      “They don’t now, — unless they like it. How did a fellow manage before, if he hadn’t got it?”

      “He went smash,” said Sir Felix, “and disappeared and was never heard of any more. It was just the same as if he’d been found cheating. I believe a fellow might cheat now and nobody’d say anything!”

      “I shouldn’t,” said Lord Nidderdale. “What’s the use of being beastly illnatured? I’m not very good at saying my prayers, but I do think there’s something in that bit about forgiving people. Of course cheating isn’t very nice: and it isn’t very nice for a fellow to play when he knows he can’t pay; but I don’t know that it’s worse than getting drunk like Dolly Longestaffe, or quarrelling with everybody as Grasslough does, — or trying to marry some poor devil of a girl merely because she’s got money. I believe in living in glass houses, but I don’t believe in throwing stones. Do you ever read the Bible, Carbury?”

      “Read the Bible! Well; — yes; — no; — that is, I suppose, I used to do.”

      “I often think I shouldn’t have been the first to pick up a stone and pitch it at that woman. Live and let live; — that’s my motto.”

      “But you agree that we ought to do something about these shares?” said Sir Felix, thinking that this doctrine of forgiveness might be carried too far.

      “Oh, certainly. I’ll let old Grendall live with all my heart; but then he ought to let me live too. Only, who’s to bell the cat?”

      “What cat?”

      “It’s no good our going to old Grendall,” said Lord Nidderdale, who had some understanding in the matter, “nor yet to young Grendall. The one would only grunt and say nothing, and the other would tell every lie that came into his head. The cat in this matter I take to be our great master, Augustus Melmotte.”

      This little meeting occurred on the day after Felix Carbury’s return from Suffolk, and at a time at which, as we know, it was the great duty of his life to get the consent of old Melmotte to his marriage with Marie Melmotte. In doing that he would have to put one bell on the cat, and he thought that for the present that was sufficient. In his heart of hearts he was afraid of Melmotte. But, then, as he knew very well, Nidderdale was intent on the same object. Nidderdale, he thought, was a very queer fellow. That talking about the Bible, and the forgiving of trespasses, was very queer; and that allusion to the marrying of heiresses very queer indeed. He knew that Nidderdale wanted to marry the heiress, and Nidderdale must also know that he wanted to marry her. And yet Nidderdale was indelicate enough to talk about it! And now the man asked who should bell the cat! “You go there oftener than I do, and perhaps you could do it best,” said Sir Felix.

      “Go where?”

      “To the Board.”

      “But you’re always at his house. He’d be civil to me, perhaps, because I’m a lord: but then, for the same reason, he’d think I was the bigger fool of the two.”

      “I don’t see that at all,” said Sir Felix.

      “I ain’t afraid of him, if you mean that,” continued Lord Nidderdale. “He’s a wretched old reprobate, and I don’t doubt but he’d skin you and me if he could make money off our carcases. But as he can’t skin me, I’ll have a shy at him. On the whole I think he rather likes me, because I’ve always been on the square with him. If it depended on him, you know, I should have the girl tomorrow.”

      “Would you?” Sir Felix did not at all mean to doubt his friend’s assertion, but felt it hard to answer so very strange a statement.

      “But then she don’t want me, and I ain’t quite sure that I want her. Where the devil would a fellow find himself if the money wasn’t all there?” Lord Nidderdale then sauntered away, leaving the baronet in a deep study of thought as to such a condition of things as that which his lordship had suggested. Where the –––– mischief would he, Sir Felix Carbury, be, if he were to marry the girl, and then to find that the money was not all there?

      On the following Friday, which was the Board day, Nidderdale went to the great man’s offices in Abchurch Lane, and so contrived that he walked with the great man to the Board meeting. Melmotte was always very gracious in his manner to Lord Nidderdale, but had never, up to this moment, had any speech with his proposed son-in-law about business. “I wanted just to ask you something,” said the lord, hanging on the chairman’s arm.

      “Anything you please, my lord.”

      “Don’t you think that Carbury and I ought to have some shares to sell?”

      “No, I don’t, — if you ask me.”

      “Oh; — I didn’t know. But why shouldn’t we as well as the others?”

      “Have you and Sir Felix put any money into it?”

      “Well, if you come to that, I don’t suppose we have. How much has Lord Alfred put into it?”

      “I have taken shares for Lord Alfred,” said Melmotte, putting very heavy emphasis on the personal pronoun. “If it suits me to advance money to Lord Alfred Grendall, I suppose I may do so without asking your lordship’s consent, or that of Sir Felix Carbury.”

      “Oh, certainly. I don’t want to make inquiry as to what you do with your money.”

      “I’m sure you don’t, and, therefore, we won’t say anything more about it. You wait awhile, Lord Nidderdale, and you’ll find it will come all right. If you’ve got a few thousand pounds loose, and will put them into the concern, why, of course you can sell; and, if the shares are up, can sell at a profit. It’s presumed just at present that, at some early day, you’ll qualify for your directorship by doing so, and till that is done, the shares are allocated to you, but cannot be transferred to you.”

      “That’s it, is it?” said Lord Nidderdale, pretending to understand all about it.

      “If things go on as we hope they will between you and Marie, you can have pretty nearly any number of shares that you please; — that is, if your father consents to a proper settlement.”

      “I hope it’ll all go smooth, I’m sure,” said Nidderdale. Thank you; I’m ever so much obliged to you, and I’ll explain it all to Carbury.”