"I don't think that mamma cares. It's papa. I'd do it again to-morrow if I had the chance." The gentleman looked at her, not having expected so much determination. "I would. Why is a girl to be made to marry to please any one but herself? I won't. And it's very mean saying that I stole the money. I always take what I want, and papa never says anything about it."
"Two hundred and fifty pounds is a large sum, Miss Melmotte."
"It is nothing in our house. It isn't about the money. It's because papa wants me to marry another man;—and I won't. It was downright mean to send and have me taken up before all the people."
"You wouldn't have come back if he hadn't done that."
"Of course I wouldn't," said Marie.
The gentleman had telegraphed up to Grosvenor Square while on the journey, and at Euston Square they were met by one of the Melmotte carriages. Marie was to be taken home in the carriage, and the box was to follow in a cab;—to follow at some interval so that Grosvenor Square might not be aware of what had taken place. Grosvenor Square, of course, very soon knew all about it. "And are you to come?" Marie asked, speaking to the gentleman. The gentleman replied that he had been requested to see Miss Melmotte home. "All the people will wonder who you are," said Marie laughing. Then the gentleman thought that Miss Melmotte would be able to get through her troubles without much suffering.
When she got home she was hurried up at once to her mother's room,—and there she found her father, alone. "This is your game, is it?" said he, looking down at her.
"Well, papa;—yes. You made me do it."
"You fool you! You were going to New York,—were you?" To this she vouchsafed no reply. "As if I hadn't found out all about it. Who was going with you?"
"If you have found out all about it, you know, papa."