heart, or one
honest friend to hold his shivering hand! If a man could only think
of that, as he puts his name to the first little bill, as to which he
is so good-naturedly assured that it can easily be renewed!

When the three months had nearly run out, it so happened that Robarts
met his friend Sowerby. Mark had once or twice ridden with Lord
Lufton as far as the meet of the hounds, and may, perhaps, have gone
a field or two farther on some occasions. The reader must not think
that he had taken to hunting, as some parsons do; and it is singular
enough that whenever they do so they always show a special aptitude
for the pursuit, as though hunting were an employment peculiarly
congenial with a cure of souls in the country. Such a thought would
do our vicar injustice. But when Lord Lufton would ask him what on
earth could be the harm of riding along the roads to look at the
hounds, he hardly knew what sensible answer to give his lordship. It
would be absurd to say that his time would be better employed at home
in clerical matters, for it was notorious that he had not clerical
pursuits for the employment of half his time. In this way, therefore,
he had got into a habit of looking at the hounds, and keeping up his
acquaintance in the county, meeting Lord Dumbello, Mr. Green Walker,
Harold Smith, and other such like sinners; and on one such occasion,
as the three months were nearly closing, he did meet Mr. Sowerby.
"Look here, Sowerby; I want to speak to you for half a moment. What
are you doing about that bill?"

"Bill--bill! what bill?--which bill? The whole bill, and nothing but
the bill. That seems to be the conversation nowadays of all men,
morning, noon, and night?"

"Don't you know the bill I signed for you for four hundred pounds?"

"Did you, though? Was not that rather green of you?" This did seem
strange to Mark. Could it really be the fact that Mr. Sowerby had
so many bills flying about that he had absolutely forgotten that
occurrence in the Gatherum Castle bedroom? And then to be called
green by the very man whom he had obliged!

"Perhaps I was," said Mark, in a tone that showed that he was
somewhat piqued. "But all the same I should be glad to know how it
will be taken up."

"Oh, Mark, what a ruffian you are to spoil my day's sport in this
way. Any man but a parson would be too good a Christian for such
intense cruelty. But let me see--four hundred pounds? Oh, yes--Tozer
has it."

"And what will Toze