"And why not, John?" said she. She had as yet heard nothing of the new-found abuse which her brother was about to reform;--at least nothing which connected it with her brother's name. He sat thinking for a while till he determined that it would be best to tell her at once what it was that he was about: it must be done sooner or later. "I fear I cannot go to Mr Harding's house any more as a friend, just at present." "Oh, John! Why not? Ah, you've quarrelled with Eleanor!" "No, indeed," said he; "I've no quarrel with her as yet." "What is it, John?" said she, looking at him with an anxious, loving face, for she knew well how much of his heart was there in that house which he said he could no longer enter. "Why," said he at last, "I've taken up the case of these twelve old men of Hiram's Hospital, and of course that brings me into contact with Mr Harding. I may have to oppose him, interfere with him,--perhaps injure him." Mary looked at him steadily for some time before she committed herself to reply, and then merely asked him what he meant to do for the old men. "Why, it's a long story, and I don't know that I can make you understand it. John Hiram made a will, and left his property in charity for certain poor old men, and the proceeds, instead of going to the benefit of these men, go chiefly into the pocket of the warden and the bishop's steward." "And you mean to take away from Mr Harding his share of it?" "I don't know what I mean yet. I mean to inquire about it. I mean to see who is entitled to this property. I mean to see, if I can, that justice be done to the poor of the city of Barchester generally, who are, in fact, the legatees under the will. I mean, in short, to put the matter right, if I can." "And why are you to do this, John?" "You might ask the same question of anybody else," said he; "and according to that the duty of righting these poor men would belong to nobody. If we are to act on that principle, the weak are never to be protected, injustice is never to be opposed, and no one is to struggle for the poor!" And Bold began to comfort himself in the warmth of his own virtue. "But is there no one to do this but you, who have known Mr Harding so long? Surely, John, as a friend, as a young friend, so much younger than Mr Harding--" "That's woman's logic, all over, Mary. What has age to do with it? Another man might plead that he was too old; and as to his friendship, if the thing itself be right, private motives should never be allowed to interfere. Because I esteem Mr Harding, is that a reason that I should neglect a duty which I owe to these old men? or should I give up a work which my conscience tells me is a good one, because I regret the loss of his society?" "And Eleanor, John?" said the sister, looking timidly into her brother's face.