A little later in the evening he invited Montague to go up to the card-room. "Carbury, and Grasslough, and Dolly Longestaffe are there waiting," he said. But Paul declined. He was too full of his troubles for play. "Poor Miles isn't there, if you're afraid of that," said Nidderdale. "Miles Grendall wouldn't hinder me," said Montague. "Nor me either. Of course it's a confounded shame. I know that as well as any body. But, God bless me, I owe a fellow down in Leicestershire heaven knows how much for keeping horses, and that's a shame." "You'll pay him some day." "I suppose I shall,--if I don't die first. But I should have gone on with the horses just the same if there had never been anything to come;--only they wouldn't have given me tick, you know. As far as I'm concerned it's just the same. I like to live whether I've got money or not. And I fear I don't have many scruples about paying. But then I like to let live too. There's Carbury always saying nasty things about poor Miles. He's playing himself without a rap to back him. If he were to lose, Vossner wouldn't stand him a £10 note. But because he has won, he goes on as though he were old Melmotte himself. You'd better come up." But Montague wouldn't go up. Without any fixed purpose he left the club, and slowly sauntered northwards through the streets till he found himself in Welbeck Street. He hardly knew why he went there, and certainly had not determined to call on Lady Carbury when he left the Beargarden. His mind was full of Mrs. Hurtle. As long as she was present in London,--as long at any rate as he was unable to tell himself that he had finally broken away from her,--he knew himself to be an unfit companion for Henrietta Carbury. And, indeed, he was still under some promise made to Roger Carbury, not that he would avoid Hetta's company, but that for a certain period, as yet unexpired, he would not ask her to be his wife. It had been a foolish promise, made and then repented without much attention to words;--but still it was existing, and Paul knew well that Roger trusted that it would be kept. Nevertheless Paul made his way up to Welbeck Street and almost unconsciously knocked at the door. No;--Lady Carbury was not at home. She was out somewhere with Mr. Roger Carbury. Up to that moment Paul had not heard that Roger was in town; but the reader may remember that he had come up in search of Ruby Ruggles. Miss Carbury was at home, the page went on to say. Would Mr. Montague go up and see Miss Carbury? Without much consideration Mr. Montague said that he would go up and see Miss Carbury. "Mamma is out with Roger," said Hetta endeavouring to save herself from confusion. "There is a soirée of learned people somewhere, and she made poor Roger take her. The ticket was only for her and her friend, and therefore I could not go." "I am so glad to see you. What an age it is since we met." "Hardly since the Melmottes' ball," said Hetta.