’There need be no humbling, Josiah, other than that which is due from a man to man in all circumstances.  But never mind; we will not talk about that.  If it seems good to you, go to Mr Toogood.  I think that it is good.  May I write to him and say that you will go?’

‘I will write to him myself.’

Then the wife paused before she asked the next question—­paused for some minute or two, and than asked it with anxious doubt—­’And may I go with you, Josiah?’

‘Why should two go when one can do the work?’ he answered sharply.  ’Have we money so much to command?’

‘Indeed, no.’

’You should go and do it all, for you are wiser in these things than I am, were it not that I may not dare to show—­that I submit myself to my wife.’

‘Nay, my dear!’

’But it is ay, my dear.  It is so.  This is a thing such as men do; not such as women do, unless they be forlorn and unaided of men.  I know that I am weak where you are strong; that I am crazed where you are clear-witted.’

‘I meant not that, Josiah.  It was of your health that I thought.’

’Nevertheless it is as I say; but, for all that, it may not be that you should do my work.  There are those watching me who would say, “Lo!  He confesses himself incapable.”  And then someone would whisper something of a madhouse.  Mary, I fear that worse than a prison.’

‘May God in His mercy forbid such cruelty!’

’But I must look to it, my dear.  Do you think that that woman, who sits at Barchester in high places, disgracing herself and that puny ecclesiastical lord who is her husband—­do you think that she would not immure me if she could?  She is a she-wolf—­only less reasonable than the dumb brute as she sharpens her teeth in malice coming from anger, and not in malice coming from hunger as do the outer wolves of the forest.  I tell you, Mary, that if she had a colourable ground for her action, she would swear tomorrow that I am mad.’

‘You shall go alone to London.’

’Yes, I will go alone.  They shall not say that I cannot yet do my own work as a man should do.  I stood up before him, the puny man who is called a bishop, and before her who makes herself great by his littleness, and I scorned them both to their faces.  Though the shoes which I had on were broken, as I myself could not but see when I stood, yet I was greater than they were with all their purple and fine linen.’

‘But, Josiah, my cousin will not be harsh to you.’

‘Well—­and if he be not?’

’Ill-usage you can bear; and violent ill-usage, such as that which Mrs Proudie allowed herself to exhibit, you can repay with interest; but kindness seems to be too heavy a burden for you.’