'Alfred's more than half afraid of him,' said Lionel Lupton, a young aristocrat, also in Parliament, who had been inoculated with the idea that the interests of the party demanded Melmotte in Parliament, but who would have given up his Scotch shooting rather than have undergone Melmotte's company for a day.
'Something really must be done, Mr Beauclerk,' said Mr Jones, who was the leading member of a very wealthy firm of builders in the borough, who had become a Conservative politician, who had thoughts of the House for himself, but who never forgot his own position. 'He is making a great many personal enemies.'
'He's the finest old turkey cock out,' said Lionel Lupton.
Then it was decided that Mr Beauclerk should speak a word to Lord Alfred. The rich man and the poor man were cousins, and had always been intimate. 'Alfred,' said the chosen mentor at the club one afternoon, 'I wonder whether you couldn't say something to Melmotte about his manner.' Lord Alfred turned sharp round and looked into his companion's face. 'They tell me he is giving offence. Of course he doesn't mean it. Couldn't he draw it a little milder?'
Lord Alfred made his reply almost in a whisper. 'If you ask me, I don't think he could. If you got him down and trampled on him, you might make him mild. I don't think there's any other way.'
'You couldn't speak to him, then?'
'Not unless I did it with a horsewhip.'
This, coming from Lord Alfred, who was absolutely dependent on the man, was very strong. Lord Alfred had been much afflicted that morning. He had spent some hours with his friend, either going about the borough in the open carriage, or standing just behind him at meetings, or sitting close to him in committee-rooms,--and had been nauseated with Melmotte. When spoken to about his friend he could not restrain himself. Lord Alfred had been born and bred a gentleman, and found the position in which he was now earning his bread to be almost insupportable. It had gone against the grain with him at first, when he was called Alfred; but now that he was told 'just to open the door,' and 'just to give that message,' he almost meditated revenge. Lord Nidderdale, who was quick at observation, had seen something of this in Grosvenor Square, and declared that Lord Alfred had invested part of his recent savings in a cutting whip. Mr Beauclerk, when he had got his answer, whistled and withdrew. But he was true to his party. Melmotte was not the first vulgar man whom the Conservatives had taken by the hand, and patted on the back, and told that he was a god.