"Just so;--the old story. You want my money, and she wants you, just because she has been told to take somebody else. You want something to live on;--that's what you want. Come;--out with it. Is not that it? When we understand each other I'll put you in the way of making money." "Of course I'm not very well off," said Felix. "About as badly as any young man that I can hear of. You give me your written promise that you'll drop this affair with Marie, and you shan't want for money." "A written promise!" "Yes;--a written promise. I give nothing for nothing. I'll put you in the way of doing so well with these shares that you shall be able to marry any other girl you please;--or to live without marrying, which you'll find to be better." There was something worthy of consideration in Mr. Melmotte's proposition. Marriage of itself, simply as a domestic institution, had not specially recommended itself to Sir Felix Carbury. A few horses at Leighton, Ruby Ruggles or any other beauty, and life at the Beargarden were much more to his taste. And then he was quite alive to the fact that it was possible that he might find himself possessed of the wife without the money. Marie, indeed, had a grand plan of her own, with reference to that settled income; but then Marie might be mistaken,--or she might be lying. If he were sure of making money in the way Melmotte now suggested, the loss of Marie would not break his heart. But then also Melmotte might be--lying. "By-the-bye, Mr. Melmotte," said he, "could you let me have those shares?" "What shares?" And the heavy brow became still heavier. "Don't you know?--I gave you a thousand pounds, and I was to have ten shares." "You must come about that on the proper day, to the proper place." "When is the proper day?" "It is the twentieth of each month I think." Sir Felix looked very blank at hearing this, knowing that this present was the twenty-first of the month. "But what does that signify? Do you want a little money?" "Well, I do," said Sir Felix. "A lot of fellows owe me money, but it's so hard to get it." "That tells a story of gambling," said Mr. Melmotte. "You think I'd give my girl to a gambler?" "Nidderdale's in it quite as thick as I am." "Nidderdale has a settled property which neither he nor his father can destroy. But don't you be such a fool as to argue with me. You won't get anything by it. If you'll write that letter here now--" "What;--to Marie?" "No;--not to Marie at all; but to me. It need never be shown to her. If you'll do that I'll stick to you and make a man of you. And if you want a couple of hundred pounds I'll give you a cheque for it before you leave the room. Mind, I can tell you this. On my word of honour as a gentleman, if my daughter were to marry you, she'd never have a single shilling. I should immediately make a will and leave all my property to St. George's Hospital. I have quite made up my mind about that."