"And nearly as old as I am?"
"No, papa,—not nearly as old as you are. He is fifty."
"And a Jew?" He again asked the horrid question, and again threw in the thunder. On this occasion she condescended to make no further reply. "If you do, you shall do it as an alien from my house. I certainly will never see him. Tell him not to come to me, for I certainly will not speak to him. You are degraded and disgraced; but you shall not degrade and disgrace me and your mother and sister."
"It was you, papa, who told me to go to the Melmottes."
"That is not true. I wanted you to stay at Caversham. A Jew! an old fat Jew! Heavens and earth! that it should be possible that you should think of it! You;—my daughter,—that used to take such pride in yourself! Have you written to your mother?"
"I have."
"It will kill her. It will simply kill her. And you are going home to-morrow?"
"I wrote to say so."
"And there you must remain. I suppose I had better see the man and explain to him that it is utterly impossible. Heavens on earth;—a Jew! An old fat Jew! My daughter! I will take you down home myself to-morrow. What have I done that I should be punished by my children in this way?" The poor man had had rather a stormy interview with Dolly that morning. "You had better leave this house to-day, and come to my hotel in Jermyn Street."
"Oh, papa, I can't do that."