Sir Felix wished himself at the Beargarden. He certainly had come
about business,--business of a particular sort; but Marie had told him
that of all days Sunday would be the best, and had also told him that
her father was more likely to be in a good humour on Sunday than on
any other day. Sir Felix felt that he had not been received with good
humour. 'I didn't mean to intrude, Mr Melmotte,' he said.

'I dare say not. I only thought I'd tell you. You might have been
going to speak about that railway.'

'Oh dear no.'

'Your mother was saying to me down in the county that she hoped you
attended to the business. I told her that there was nothing to attend
to.'

'My mother doesn't understand anything at all about it,' said Sir
Felix.

'Women never do. Well;--what can I do for you, now that you are here?'

'Mr Melmotte, I'm come,--I'm come to;--in short, Mr Melmotte, I want to
propose myself as a suitor for your daughter's hand.'

'The d---- you do!'

'Well, yes; and we hope you'll give us your consent.'

'She knows you're coming, then?'