This letter fell upon old Mr Longestaffe at Caversham like a
thunderbolt. It was marvellous to him that his son should have been
instigated to write a letter. The Melmottes must be very bad indeed,--
worse than he had thought,--or their iniquities would not have brought
about such energy as this. But the passage which angered him most was
that which told him that he ought to have taken his family back to
town. This had come from his son, who had refused to do anything to
help him in his difficulties.




CHAPTER XXVI - MRS HURTLE


Paul Montague at this time lived in comfortable lodgings in Sackville
Street, and ostensibly the world was going well with him. But he had
many troubles. His troubles in reference to Fisker, Montague, and
Montague,--and also their consolation,--are already known to the reader.
He was troubled too about his love, though when he allowed his mind to
expatiate on the success of the great railway he would venture to hope
that on that side his life might perhaps be blessed. Henrietta had at
any rate as yet showed no disposition to accept her cousin's offer. He
was troubled too about the gambling, which he disliked, knowing that
in that direction there might be speedy ruin, and yet returning to it
from day to day in spite of his own conscience. But there was yet
another trouble which culminated just at this time. One morning, not
long after that Sunday night which had been so wretchedly spent at the
Beargarden, he got into a cab in Piccadilly and had himself taken to a
certain address in Islington. Here he knocked at a decent, modest door,--