"No, madam, no. I could not think of it. Sir Roger, I have no doubt,
will know better another time. It is not a question of money; not at
all."

"But it is a question of money, doctor; and you really shall, you
must." And poor Lady Scatcherd, in her anxiety to acquit herself at
any rate of any pecuniary debt to the doctor, came to personal close
quarters with him, with the view of forcing the note into his hands.

"Quite impossible, quite impossible," said the doctor, still
cherishing his grievance, and valiantly rejecting the root of all
evil. "I shall not do anything of the kind, Lady Scatcherd."

"Now doctor, do 'ee; to oblige me."

"Quite out of the question." And so, with his hands and hat behind
his back, in token of his utter refusal to accept any pecuniary
accommodation of his injury, he made his way backwards to the door,
her ladyship perseveringly pressing him in front. So eager had been
the attack on him, that he had not waited to give his order about the
post-chaise, but made his way at once towards the hall.

"Now, do 'ee take it, do 'ee," pressed Lady Scatcherd.

"Utterly out of the question," said Dr Fillgrave, with great
deliberation, as he backed his way into the hall. As he did so, of
course he turned round,--and he found himself almost in the arms of
Dr Thorne.

As Burley must have glared at Bothwell when they rushed together in
the dread encounter on the mountain side; as Achilles may have glared
at Hector when at last they met, each resolved to test in fatal
conflict the prowess of the other, so did Dr Fillgrave glare at his
foe from Greshamsbury, when, on turning round on his exalted heel,
he found his nose on a level with the top button of Dr Thorne's
waistcoat.

And here, if it be not too tedious, let us pause a while to
recapitulate and add up the undoubted grievances of the Barchester
practitioner. He had made no effort to ingratiate himself into the
sheepfold of that other shepherd-dog; it was not by his seeking that
he was now at Boxall Hill; much as he hated Dr Thorne, full sure
as he felt of that man's utter ignorance, of his incapacity to
administer properly even a black dose, of his murdering propensities
and his low, mean, unprofessional style of practice; nevertheless, he
had done nothing to undermine him with these Scatcherds. Dr Thorne
might have sent every mother's son at Boxall Hill to his long
account, and Dr Fillgrave would not have interfered;--would not have
inter