“I don’t want to quarrel.  It’s for my interest—­and perhaps for yours too—­that we should be friends.  I bear you no grudge; I think no worse of you than I do of other people.  A man who half starves himself, and goes the length in family prayers, and so on, that you do, believes in his religion whatever it may be:  you could turn over your capital just as fast with cursing and swearing:—­ plenty of fellows do.  You like to be master, there’s no denying that; you must be first chop in heaven, else you won’t like it much.  But you’re my sister’s husband, and we ought to stick together; and if I know Harriet, she’ll consider it your fault if we quarrel because you strain at a gnat in this way, and refuse to do Fred a good turn.  And I don’t mean to say I shall bear it well.  I consider it unhandsome.”

Mr. Vincy rose, began to button his great-coat, and looked steadily at his brother-in-law, meaning to imply a demand for a decisive answer.

This was not the first time that Mr. Bulstrode had begun by admonishing Mr. Vincy, and had ended by seeing a very unsatisfactory reflection of himself in the coarse unflattering mirror which that manufacturer’s mind presented to the subtler lights and shadows of his fellow-men; and perhaps his experience ought to have warned him how the scene would end.  But a full-fed fountain will be generous with its waters even in the rain, when they are worse than useless; and a fine fount of admonition is apt to be equally irrepressible.

It was not in Mr. Bulstrode’s nature to comply directly in consequence of uncomfortable suggestions.  Before changing his course, he always needed to shape his motives and bring them into accordance with his habitual standard.  He said, at last—­

“I will reflect a little, Vincy.  I will mention the subject to Harriet.  I shall probably send you a letter.”

“Very well.  As soon as you can, please.  I hope it will all be settled before I see you to-morrow.”

CHAPTER XIV.

    “Follows here the strict receipt
     For that sauce to dainty meat,
     Named Idleness, which many eat
     By preference, and call it sweet: 
     First watch for morsels, like a hound
     Mix well with buffets, stir them round
     With good thick oil of flatteries,
     And froth with mean self-lauding lies. 
     Serve warm:  the vessels you must choose
     To keep it in are dead men’s shoes.”

Mr. Bulstrode’s consultation of Harriet seemed to have had the effect desired by Mr. Vincy, for early the next morning a letter came which Fred could carry to Mr. Featherstone as the required testimony.

The old gentleman was staying in bed on account of the cold weather, and as Mary Garth was not to be seen in the sitting-room, Fred went up-stairs immediately and presented the letter to his uncle, who, propped up comfortably on a bed-rest, was not less able than usual to enjoy his consciousness of wisdom in distrusting and frustrating mankind.  He put on his spectacles to read the letter, pursing up his lips and drawing down their corners.