Out with it, man; say at once you think me
wrong."

"I have too little faith in my own judgment to go that far."

"Well, will you say that you would have acted differently yourself?
Come, I think you can answer that question."

"No, I cannot."

"You can't say whether you would have done as I have, or something
quite different?"

"No; there is only one thing I know I should have done--I'd have
consulted Julia."

If Bramleigh laughed at this avowal, the other joined him, and for a
while nothing was said on either side. At last, Bramleigh said, "I, too,
have a confession to make. I thought that if I were to resist this man's
claim by the power of superior wealth I should be acting as dishonorably
as though I had fought an unarmed man with a revolver. I told Sedley my
scruples, but though he treated them with little deference, there they
were, and I could not dismiss them. It was this weakness--Sedley would
give it no other name than weakness--of mine that made him incline to
settle the matter by a compromise. For a while I yielded to the notion;
I 'm afraid that I yielded even too far--at least Cutbill opines that
one of my letters actually gives a distinct consent, but _I_ don't think
so. I know that my meaning was to say to my lawyer, 'This man's claim
may push me to publicity and much unpleasantness, without any benefit
to him. He may make me a nine-days wonder in the newspapers and a town
talk, and never reap the least advantage from it. To avoid such exposure
I would pay, and pay handsomely; but if you really opined that I was
merely stifling a just demand, such a compromise would only bring
me lasting misery.' Perhaps I could not exactly define what I meant;
perhaps I expressed myself imperfectly and ill; but Sedley always
replied to me by something that seemed to refute my reasonings. At
the same time Lord Culduff and Temple treated my scruples with an open
contempt. I grew irritable, and possibly less reasonable, and I wrote
long letters to Sedley to justify myself and sustain the position I had
taken. Of these, indeed of none of my letters, have I copies; and I am
told now that they contain admissions which will show that I yielded to
the plan of a compromise. Knowing, however, what I felt--what I still
feel on the matter--I will not believe this. At all events, the world
shall see now that I leave the law to take its course. If Pracontal can
establish his right, let him take what he owns. I only bargain f