y intention is to offer the man nothing, but to leave the affair
in the hands of my lawyer with instructions to him to spare none;
neither myself nor any one else. I am not going to allow such a man
as Sowerby to squeeze me like an orange."

"But, Lufton, you seem as though you were angry with me."

"No, I am not. But I think it is as well to caution you about this
man; my transactions with him lately have chiefly been through you,
and therefore--"

"But they have only been so through his and your wish: because I have
been anxious to oblige you both. I hope you don't mean to say that I
am concerned in these bills."

"I know that you are concerned in bills with him."

"Why, Lufton, am I to understand, then, that you are accusing me
of having any interest in these transactions which you have called
swindling?"

"As far as I am concerned there has been swindling, and there is
swindling going on now."

"But you do not answer my question. Do you bring any accusation
against me? If so, I agree with you that you had better go to your
lawyer."

"I think that is what I shall do."

"Very well. But, upon the whole, I never heard of a more unreasonable
man, or of one whose thoughts are more unjust than yours. Solely
with the view of assisting you, and solely at your request, I spoke
to Sowerby about these money transactions of yours. Then, at his
request, which originated out of your request, he using me as his
ambassador to you, as you had used me as yours to him, I wrote and
spoke to you. And now this is the upshot."

"I bring no accusation against you, Robarts; but I know you have
dealings with this man. You have told me so yourself."

"Yes, at his request to accommodate him. I have put my name to a
bill."

"Only to one?

"Only to one; and then to that same renewed, or not exactly to that
same, but to one which stands for it. The first was for four hundred
pounds; the last for five hundred."

"All which you will have to make good, and the world will of course
tell you that you have paid that price for this stall at Barchester."
This was terrible to be borne. He had heard much lately which had
frightened and scared him, but nothing so terrible as this; nothing
which so stunned him, or conveyed to his mind so frightful a reality
of misery and ruin. He made no immediate answer, but standing on the
hearth-rug with his back to the fire, looked up the whole length of
the room. Hitherto his eyes had been fixed upon