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managed. No gentleman’ll marry her because she runs after him. Girls as knows what they’re about should let the gentlemen run after them. That’s my way of looking at it.”

“Don’t you think they should be equal in that respect?”

“Anyways the girls shouldn’t let on as they are running after the gentlemen. A gentleman goes here and he goes there, and he speaks up free, of course. In my time, girls usen’t to do that. But then, maybe, I’m old-fashioned,” added Mrs. Pipkin, thinking of the new dispensation.

“I suppose girls do speak for themselves more than they did formerly.”

“A deal more, Mrs. Hurtle; quite different. You hear them talk of spooning with this fellow, and spooning with that fellow⁠—and that before their very fathers and mothers! When I was young we used to do it, I suppose⁠—only not like that.”

“You did it on the sly.”

“I think we got married quicker than they do, any way. When the gentlemen had to take more trouble they thought more about it. But if you wouldn’t mind speaking to Ruby tomorrow, Mrs. Hurtle, she’d listen to you when she wouldn’t mind a word I said to her. I don’t want her to go away from this, out into the street, till she knows where she’s to go to, decent. As for going to her young man⁠—that’s just walking the streets.”

Mrs. Hurtle promised that she would speak to Ruby, though when making the promise she could not but think of her unfitness for the task. She knew nothing of the country. She had not a single friend in it, but Paul Montague;⁠—and she had run after him with as little discretion as Ruby Ruggles was showing in running after her lover. Who was she that she should take upon herself to give advice to any female?

She had not sent her letter to Paul, but she still kept it in her pocketbook. At some moments she thought that she would send it; and at others she told herself that she would never surrender this last hope till every stone had been turned. It might still be possible to shame him into a marriage. She had returned from Lowestoft on the Monday, and had made some trivial excuse to Mrs. Pipkin in her mildest voice. The place had been windy, and too cold for her;⁠—and she had not liked the hotel. Mrs. Pipkin was very glad to see her back again.

XLIX Sir Felix Makes Himself Ready

Sir Felix, when he promised to meet Ruby at the Music Hall on the Tuesday, was under an engagement to start with Marie Melmotte for New York on the Thursday following, and to go down to Liverpool on the Wednesday. There was no reason, he thought, why he should not enjoy himself to the last, and he would say a parting word to poor little Ruby. The details of his journey were settled between him and Marie, with no inconsiderable assistance from Didon, in the garden of Grosvenor Square, on the previous Sunday⁠—where the lovers had again met during the hours of morning service. Sir Felix had been astonished at the completion of the preparations which had been made. “Mind you go by the 5 p.m. train,” Marie said. “That will take you into Liverpool at 10:15. There’s an hotel at the railway-station. Didon has got our tickets under the names of Madame and Mademoiselle Racine. We are to have one cabin between us. You must get yours tomorrow. She has found out that there is plenty of room.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“Pray don’t miss the train that afternoon. Somebody would be sure to suspect something if we were seen together in the same train. We leave at 7 a.m. I shan’t go to bed all night, so as to be sure to be in time. Robert⁠—he’s the man⁠—will start a little earlier in the cab with my heavy box. What do you think is in it?”

“Clothes,” suggested Felix.

“Yes, but what clothes?⁠—my wedding dresses. Think of that! What a job to get them and nobody to know anything about it except Didon and Madame Craik at the shop in Mount Street! They haven’t come yet, but I shall be there whether they come or not. And I shall have all my jewels. I’m not going to leave them behind. They’ll go off in our cab. We can get the things out behind the house into the mews. Then Didon and I follow in another cab. Nobody ever is up before near nine, and I don’t think we shall be interrupted.”

“If the servants were to hear.”

“I don’t think they’d tell. But if I was to be brought back again, I should only tell papa that it was no good. He can’t prevent me marrying.”

“Won’t your mother find out?”

“She never looks after anything. I don’t think she’d tell if she knew. Papa leads her such a life! Felix! I hope you won’t be like that.”⁠—And she looked up into his face, and thought that it would be impossible that he should be.

“I’m all right,” said Felix, feeling very uncomfortable at the time. This great effort of his life was drawing very near. There had been a pleasurable excitement in talking of running away with the great heiress of the day, but now that the deed had to be executed⁠—and executed after so novel and stupendous a fashion, he almost wished that he had not undertaken it. It must have been much nicer when men ran away with their heiresses only as far as Gretna Green. And even Goldsheiner with Lady Julia had nothing of a job in comparison with this which he was expected to perform. And then if they should be wrong about the girl’s fortune! He almost repented. He did repent, but he had not the courage to recede. “How about money though?” he said hoarsely.

“You have got some?”

“I have just the two hundred pounds which your father paid me, and not a shilling more. I don’t see why he should keep my money, and not

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