The Last Chronicle of Barset [217]
letter, and Miss Jones says that little Elly is as good as gold. They are with me every morning and evening, and behave little darling angels, as they are. Posy is my own little jewel always. You may be quite sure I do nothing to spoil them.--God bless you, dearest Nelly, Your most affectionate father, 'SEPTIMUS HARDING'
After this he wrote another letter to his other daughter, Mrs Grantly, telling her also of Mr Toogood's visit; and then he spent the remainder of the day thinking over the gravity of the occurrence. How terrible it would be if a beneficed clergyman in the diocese should really be found guilty of theft by a jury from the city! And then he had always heard so high a character of this man from his son-in-law. No--it was impossible to believe that Mr Crawley had in truth stolen a cheque for twenty pounds!
Mr Toogood could get no further information in Barchester, and went on to Silverbridge early in the afternoon. He was half disposed to go by Hogglestock and look up his cousin, whom he had never seen, and his cousin's husband, upon whose business he was now intent; but on reflection he feared that he might do more harm than good. He had quite appreciated the fact that Mr Crawley was not like other men. 'The man's not above half-saved,' he had said to his wife--meaning thereby to insinuate that the poor clergyman was not in full possession of his wits. And, to tell the truth of Mr Toogood, he was a little afraid of his relative. There was something in Mr Crawley's manner, in spite of his declared poverty, and in spite also of his extreme humility, which seemed to announce that he expected to be obeyed when he spoke on any point with authority. Mr Toogood had not forgotten the tone in which Mr Crawley had said to him, 'Sir, this is a thing you cannot do.' And he thought that, upon the whole, he had better not go to Hogglestock on this occasion.
When at Silverbridge, he began at once to 'rummage about'. His chief rummaging was to be done at Mr Walker's table; but before dinner he had time to call upon the magistrate's clerk, and ask a few questions as to the proceedings at the sitting from which Mr Crawley was committed. He found a very taciturn old man, who was nearly as difficult to deal with in any rummaging process as a porcupine. But, nevertheless, at last he reached a state of conversation which was not absolutely hostile. Mr Toogood pleaded that he was the poor man's cousin--pleaded that, as the family lawyer, he was naturally the poor man's protector at such a time as the present--pleaded also that as the poor man was so very poor, no one else could come forward on his behalf--and in this way somewhat softened the hard sharpness of the old porcupine's quills. But after all this, there was very little to be learned from the old porcupine. 'There was not a magistrate on the bench,' he said, 'who had any doubt that the evidence was sufficient to justify them in sending the case to the assizes. They had all regretted,'--and the porcupine said in his softest moment--'that the gentleman had come there without a legal adviser.' 'Ah, that's been the mischief of it all!' said Mr Toogood, dashing his hand against the porcupine's mahogany table. 'But the facts are so strong, Mr Toogood!' 'Nobody there to soften 'em down, you know,' said Mr Toogood, shaking his head. Very little more than this was learned from the porcupine; and then Mr Toogood went away, and prepared for Mr Walker's dinner.
Mr Walker had invited Dr Tempest and Miss Anne Prettyman and Major Grantly to meet Mr Toogood, and had explained, in a manner intended to be half earnest and half jocose, that though Mr Toogood was an attorney, like himself, and was at this moment engaged in a noble way on behalf of his cousin's husband, without any idea of receiving back even the money which he would be out of pocket, still he wasn't quite--not quite, you know--'not quite so much of a gentleman as I am'--Mr Walker would have said, had he spoken out freely that which he insinuated. But he contented himself with the emphasis he put upon the 'not quite',
After this he wrote another letter to his other daughter, Mrs Grantly, telling her also of Mr Toogood's visit; and then he spent the remainder of the day thinking over the gravity of the occurrence. How terrible it would be if a beneficed clergyman in the diocese should really be found guilty of theft by a jury from the city! And then he had always heard so high a character of this man from his son-in-law. No--it was impossible to believe that Mr Crawley had in truth stolen a cheque for twenty pounds!
Mr Toogood could get no further information in Barchester, and went on to Silverbridge early in the afternoon. He was half disposed to go by Hogglestock and look up his cousin, whom he had never seen, and his cousin's husband, upon whose business he was now intent; but on reflection he feared that he might do more harm than good. He had quite appreciated the fact that Mr Crawley was not like other men. 'The man's not above half-saved,' he had said to his wife--meaning thereby to insinuate that the poor clergyman was not in full possession of his wits. And, to tell the truth of Mr Toogood, he was a little afraid of his relative. There was something in Mr Crawley's manner, in spite of his declared poverty, and in spite also of his extreme humility, which seemed to announce that he expected to be obeyed when he spoke on any point with authority. Mr Toogood had not forgotten the tone in which Mr Crawley had said to him, 'Sir, this is a thing you cannot do.' And he thought that, upon the whole, he had better not go to Hogglestock on this occasion.
When at Silverbridge, he began at once to 'rummage about'. His chief rummaging was to be done at Mr Walker's table; but before dinner he had time to call upon the magistrate's clerk, and ask a few questions as to the proceedings at the sitting from which Mr Crawley was committed. He found a very taciturn old man, who was nearly as difficult to deal with in any rummaging process as a porcupine. But, nevertheless, at last he reached a state of conversation which was not absolutely hostile. Mr Toogood pleaded that he was the poor man's cousin--pleaded that, as the family lawyer, he was naturally the poor man's protector at such a time as the present--pleaded also that as the poor man was so very poor, no one else could come forward on his behalf--and in this way somewhat softened the hard sharpness of the old porcupine's quills. But after all this, there was very little to be learned from the old porcupine. 'There was not a magistrate on the bench,' he said, 'who had any doubt that the evidence was sufficient to justify them in sending the case to the assizes. They had all regretted,'--and the porcupine said in his softest moment--'that the gentleman had come there without a legal adviser.' 'Ah, that's been the mischief of it all!' said Mr Toogood, dashing his hand against the porcupine's mahogany table. 'But the facts are so strong, Mr Toogood!' 'Nobody there to soften 'em down, you know,' said Mr Toogood, shaking his head. Very little more than this was learned from the porcupine; and then Mr Toogood went away, and prepared for Mr Walker's dinner.
Mr Walker had invited Dr Tempest and Miss Anne Prettyman and Major Grantly to meet Mr Toogood, and had explained, in a manner intended to be half earnest and half jocose, that though Mr Toogood was an attorney, like himself, and was at this moment engaged in a noble way on behalf of his cousin's husband, without any idea of receiving back even the money which he would be out of pocket, still he wasn't quite--not quite, you know--'not quite so much of a gentleman as I am'--Mr Walker would have said, had he spoken out freely that which he insinuated. But he contented himself with the emphasis he put upon the 'not quite',