"Mr. Forrest, it is quite out of the question."
"You mean that Lord Lufton will not give you his name?"
"I certainly shall not ask him; but that is not all. In the first place, my income will not be what you think it, for I shall probably give up the prebend at Barchester."
"Give up the prebend! give up six hundred a year!"
"And, beyond this, I think I may say that nothing shall tempt me to put my name to another bill. I have learned a lesson which I hope I may never forget."
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"Nothing."
"Then those men will sell every stick of furniture about the place. They know that your property here is enough to secure all that they claim."
"If they have the power, they must sell it."
"And all the world will know the facts."
"So it must be. Of the faults which a man commits he must bear the punishment. If it were only myself!"
"That's where it is, Mr. Robarts. Think what your wife will have to suffer in going through such misery as that! You had better take my advice. Lord Lufton, I am sure—"
But the very name of Lord Lufton, his sister's lover, again gave him courage. He thought, too, of the accusations which Lord Lufton had brought against him on that night when he had come to him in the coffee-room of the hotel, and he felt that it was impossible that he should apply to him for such aid. It would be better to tell all to Lady Lufton. That she would relieve him, let the cost to herself be what it might, he was very sure. Only this—that in looking to her for assistance he would be forced to bite the dust in very deed.
"Thank you, Mr. Forrest; but I have made up my mind. Do not think that I am the less obliged to you for your disinterested kindness, for I know that it is disinterested; but this I think I may confidently say, that not even to avert so terrible a calamity will I again put my name to any bill. Even if you could take my own promise to pay without the addition of any second name, I would not do it."
There was nothing for Mr. Forrest to do under such circumstances but simply to drive back to Barchester. He had done the best for the young clergyman according to his lights, and perhaps, in a worldly view, his advice had not been bad. But Mark dreaded the very name of a bill.