Bulstrode, after a moment's hesitation, took his hat from the floor and
slowly rose, but he grasped the corner of the chair so totteringly that
Lydgate felt sure there was not strength enough in him to walk away
without support. What could he do? He could not see a man sink close
to him for want of help. He rose and gave his arm to Bulstrode, and in
that way led him out of the room; yet this act, which might have been
one of gentle duty and pure compassion, was at this moment unspeakably
bitter to him. It seemed as if he were putting his sign-manual to that
association of himself with Bulstrode, of which he now saw the full
meaning as it must have presented itself to other minds. He now felt
the conviction that this man who was leaning tremblingly on his arm,
had given him the thousand pounds as a bribe, and that somehow the
treatment of Raffles had been tampered with from an evil motive. The
inferences were closely linked enough; the town knew of the loan,
believed it to be a bribe, and believed that he took it as a bribe.

Poor Lydgate, his mind struggling under the terrible clutch of this
revelation, was all the while morally forced to take Mr. Bulstrode to
the Bank, send a man off for his carriage, and wait to accompany him
home.

Meanwhile the business of the meeting was despatched, and fringed off
into eager discussion among various groups concerning this affair of
Bulstrode--and Lydgate.

Mr. Brooke, who had before heard only imperfect hints of it, and was
very uneasy that he had "gone a little too far" in countenancing
Bulstrode, now got himself fully informed, and felt some benevolent
sadness in talking to Mr. Farebrother about the ugly light in which
Lydgate had come to be regarded. Mr. Farebrother was going to walk
back to Lowick.

"Step into my carriage," said Mr. Brooke. "I am going round to see
Mrs. Casaubon. She was to come back from Yorkshire last night. She
will like to see me, you know."

So they drove along, Mr. Brooke chatting with good-natured hope that
there had not really been anything black in Lydgate's behavior--a
young fellow whom he had seen to be quite above the common mark, when
he brought a letter from his uncle Sir Godwin. Mr. Farebrother said
little: he was deeply mournful: with a keen perception of human
weakness, he could not be confident that under the pressure of
humiliating needs Lydgate had not fallen below himself.

When the carriage drove up to the gate of the