hat wretched horse which he had purchased, and the purchase of which
should have prohibited him from saying that nothing of value had
accrued to him in these transactions with Mr. Sowerby! what was he
to do about that? And then of late he had been spending, and had
continued to spend, more money than he could well afford. This very
journey of his up to London would be most imprudent, if it should
become necessary for him to give up all hope of holding the prebend.
As to that he had made up his mind; but then again he unmade it, as
men always do in such troubles. That line of conduct which he had
laid down for himself in the first moments of his indignation against
Lord Lufton, by adopting which he would have to encounter poverty,
and ridicule, and discomfort, the annihilation of his high hopes,
and the ruin of his ambition--that, he said to himself over and over
again, would now be the best for him. But it is so hard for us to
give up our high hopes, and willingly encounter poverty, ridicule,
and discomfort!

On the following morning, however, he boldly walked down to the
Petty Bag Office, determined to let Harold Smith know that he was no
longer desirous of the Barchester stall. He found his brother there,
still writing artistic notes to anxious peeresses on the subject of
Buggins's non-vacant situation; but the great man of the place, the
Lord Petty Bag himself, was not there. He might probably look in when
the House was beginning to sit, perhaps at four or a little after;
but he certainly would not be at the office in the morning. The
functions of the Lord Petty Bag he was no doubt performing elsewhere.
Perhaps he had carried his work home with him--a practice which the
world should know is not uncommon with civil servants of exceeding
zeal. Mark did think of opening his heart to his brother, and of
leaving his message with him. But his courage failed him, or perhaps
it might be more correct to say that his prudence prevented him. It
would be better for him, he thought, to tell his wife before he told
any one else. So he merely chatted with his brother for half an hour
and then left him. The day was very tedious till the hour came at
which he was to attend at Lord Lufton's rooms; but at last it did
come, and just as the clock struck he turned out of Piccadilly into
the Albany. As he was going across the court before he entered the
building, he was greeted by a voice just behind him. "As punctual as
the big clock on