As soon as Melmotte was on his legs, and, looking round, found that everybody was silent with the intent of listening to him, a good deal of his courage oozed out of his fingers’ ends.  The House, which, to his thinking, had by no means been august while Mr Brown had been toddling through his speech, now became awful.  He caught the eyes of great men fixed upon him,—­of men who had not seemed to him to be at all great as he had watched them a few minutes before, yawning beneath their hats.  Mr Brown, poor as his speech had been, had, no doubt, prepared it,—­and had perhaps made three or four such speeches every year for the last fifteen years.  Melmotte had not dreamed of putting two words together.  He had thought, as far...