Mr. Price was confounded: he was fairly detected; and very unpleasant indeed was it for him to stand thus convicted before another man of the law. The confidential solicitor was silenced for a moment or two; and when he recovered the power of speech, he did not so soon recover the power of clearly expressing himself; and if he had said, as twenty thousand Irishmen have been twenty thousand times accused of saying, “I am speechless,” he would not have been far from the truth. A very fine opportunity was now presented to Markham of making a fine set speech, full of indignation and metaphors, after the manner of a sermon, or the last speech of the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth acts of a new comedy; but for many reasons he abstained. In the first place he was not partial to spouting, nor very dexterous in the management, or fertile in the invention of metaphors. In the second place, he knew that it would do no good, but rather harm; for if the heart of Mr. Price was not absolutely callous, the very fact of detection and disappointment would be quite sufficient to make him feel, and to urge him to repent, if he were capable of penitence. All prating and prosing upon the subject would only have diverted his thoughts from the meanness of his own conduct to the quizzicality of the spouter. Markham merely said, “Do you call that conduct honest, Mr. Price?” The confidential solicitor turned away his face; but whether it were to conceal a rising blush or a falling tear, we cannot say: if however it were so, we think it a great pity that he should have concealed so great a curiosity as a blush or a tear on the cheek of an attorney. Markham then said, “Well, sir, as matters now stand, it is impossible for me to avail myself of this error. I must inform Mr. Martindale’s relatives of the mistake, for it clearly is a mistake. This instrument does not express my late friend’s will.” “But surely,” interrupted Mr. Price, “you will not think of exposing and betraying me?” “I shall certainly not accuse you, sir; but if facts expose you, you have only yourself to thank for the exposure.” Mr. Price was angry, as most people are when they are mortified; and he said, “Well, Mr. Markham, you must do as you please, but I think you excessively scrupulous.” “Better so,” replied the barrister, “than the reverse.” That reply was displeasing to the solicitor, and he rejoined, “Why, now, you cannot suppose that either Lord Trimmerstone or Signora Rivolta will take the property, if you offer it to them; and then the conclusion of the matter will be, that you will merely make a show of magnanimous integrity and disinterestedness, and come into a handsome fortune; so you will get rich at my expense, and your character will be raised by the depression of mine. Such conduct is mean and trumpery.”