“Why, sir, in some cases, one cannot venture to make one’s self understood any way, but by inuendoes.” “Then, good morning to you, sir--you and I can never understand one another.” “Pardon me, sir, unless you are in a hurry,” cried Mr. Sharpe, catching Alfred by the button, “which (when so large an estate, to which you might eventually succeed, is in question) you are too much a man of business to be--in one word, then, for I won’t detain you another moment, and I throw myself open, and trust to your honour--” “You do me honour.” “Put a parallel case. You, plaintiff A----, I, defendant B----. I should, if I were A----, but no way advising it, being B----, offer to divide the whole property, the claim for the _mesne rents_ being wholly given up; and that the offer would be accepted, I’d engage upon my honour, supposing myself witnessing the transaction, only just as a gentleman.” “Impossible, sir,” cried Alfred, with indignation. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I would give up half my father’s estate, knowing that he has a right to the whole?” “Pardon me, sir--I only suggested an A. B. case. But one word more, sir,” cried Mr. Sharpe, holding Alfred, who was breaking from him, “for your own--your father’s interest: you see this thing quite in a wrong point of view; when you talk of a few months’ more or less delay of getting possession, being all there is between us--depend upon it, if it goes to trial you will never get possession.” “Then, sir, if you think so, you are betraying the interest of your client, in advising me not to let it go to trial.” “Good God! sir: but that is between you and me only.” “Pardon me, sir, it is between you and your conscience.” “Oh! if that’s all--my conscience is at ease, when I’m trying to prevent the scandal of litigation between relations: therefore, just let me mention to you for your private information, what I know Sir Robert would not wish to come out before the trial.” “Don’t tell it to me, sir--I will not hear it,” cried Alfred, breaking from him, and walking on very fast. Faster still Sharpe pursued. “You’ll remember, sir, at all events, that what has been said is not to go further--you’ll not forget.” “I shall never forget that I am a man of honour, sir,” said Alfred. Sharpe parted from him, muttering, “that if he lived to the day of trial, he would repent this.” “And if I live till the day of judgment, I shall never repent it,” thought Alfred.