Part 82 (2/2)
”Oh, yes, you're here. You're all right. But what is it, Mr.
Beauchamp? There's something up, and you must have heard.” And so it was clear to Mr. Beauchamp that the man knew nothing about it himself.
If there was anything wrong, Melmotte was not aware that the wrong had been discovered. ”Is it anything about the election to-morrow?”
”One never can tell what is actuating people,” said Mr. Beauchamp.
”If you know anything about the matter I think you ought to tell me.”
”I know nothing except that the ballot will be taken to-morrow. You and I have got nothing more to do in the matter except to wait the result.”
”Well; I suppose it's all right,” said Melmotte, rising and going back to his seat. But he knew that things were not all right. Had his political friends only been absent, he might have attributed their absence to some political cause which would not have touched him deeply. But the treachery of the Lord Mayor and of Sir Gregory Gribe was a blow. For another hour after he had returned to his place, the Emperor sat solemn in his chair; and then, at some signal given by some one, he was withdrawn. The ladies had already left the room about half an hour. According to the programme arranged for the evening, the royal guests were to return to the smaller room for a cup of coffee, and were then to be paraded upstairs before the mult.i.tude who would by that time have arrived, and to remain there long enough to justify the invited ones in saying that they had spent the evening with the Emperor and the Princes and the Princesses. The plan was carried out perfectly. At half-past ten the Emperor was made to walk upstairs, and for half an hour sat awful and composed in an arm-chair that had been prepared for him. How one would wish to see the inside of the mind of the Emperor as it worked on that occasion!
Melmotte, when his guests ascended his stairs, went back into the banqueting-room and through to the hall, and wandered about till he found Miles Grendall.
”Miles,” he said, ”tell me what the row is.”
”How row?” asked Miles.
”There's something wrong, and you know all about it. Why didn't the people come?” Miles, looking guilty, did not even attempt to deny his knowledge. ”Come; what is it? We might as well know all about it at once.” Miles looked down on the ground, and grunted something. ”Is it about the election?”
”No, it's not that,” said Miles.
”Then what is it?”
”They got hold of something to-day in the City--about Pickering.”
”They did, did they? And what were they saying about Pickering? Come; you might as well out with it. You don't suppose that I care what lies they tell.”
”They say there's been something--forged. t.i.tle-deeds, I think they say.”
”t.i.tle-deeds! that I have forged t.i.tle-deeds. Well; that's beginning well. And his lords.h.i.+p has stayed away from my house after accepting my invitation because he has heard that story! All right, Miles; that will do.” And the Great Financier went upstairs into his own drawing-room.
CHAPTER LX.
MISS LONGESTAFFE'S LOVER.
A few days before that period in our story which we have now reached, Miss Longestaffe was seated in Lady Monogram's back drawing-room, discussing the terms on which the two tickets for Madame Melmotte's grand reception had been transferred to Lady Monogram,--the place on the cards for the names of the friends whom Madame Melmotte had the honour of inviting to meet the Emperor and the Princes, having been left blank; and the terms also on which Miss Longestaffe had been asked to spend two or three days with her dear friend Lady Monogram.
Each lady was disposed to get as much and to give as little as possible,--in which desire the ladies carried out the ordinary practice of all parties to a bargain. It had of course been settled that Lady Monogram was to have the two tickets,--for herself and her husband,--such tickets at that moment standing very high in the market. In payment for these valuable considerations, Lady Monogram was to undertake to chaperon Miss Longestaffe at the entertainment, to take Miss Longestaffe as a visitor for three days, and to have one party at her own house during the time, so that it might be seen that Miss Longestaffe had other friends in London besides the Melmottes on whom to depend for her London gaieties. At this moment Miss Longestaffe felt herself justified in treating the matter as though she were hardly receiving a fair equivalent. The Melmotte tickets were certainly ruling very high. They had just culminated. They fell a little soon afterwards, and at ten P.M. on the night of the entertainment were hardly worth anything. At the moment which we have now in hand, there was a rush for them. Lady Monogram had already secured the tickets. They were in her desk. But, as will sometimes be the case in a bargain, the seller was complaining that as she had parted with her goods too cheap, some make-weight should be added to the stipulated price.
”As for that, my dear,” said Miss Longestaffe, who, since the rise in Melmotte stock generally, had endeavoured to resume something of her old manners, ”I don't see what you mean at all. You meet Lady Julia Goldsheiner everywhere, and her father-in-law is Mr. Brehgert's junior partner.”
”Lady Julia is Lady Julia, my dear, and young Mr. Goldsheiner has, in some sort of way, got himself in. He hunts, and Damask says that he is one of the best shots at Hurlingham. I never met old Mr.
Goldsheiner anywhere.”
”I have.”
<script>