"Then I am myself again," said Mr Rubb; and having so said, he sat down.
Miss Mackenzie hoped that there was nothing the matter with him, and then she also sat down at a considerable distance.
"There is nothing the matter with me," said he, "as you are still so kind to me. But tell me, have you not received a letter from your lawyer?"
"Yes, I have."
"And he has done all in his power to blacken me? I know it. Tell me, Miss Mackenzie, has he not blackened me? Has he not laid things to my charge of which I am incapable? Has he not accused me of getting money from you under false pretences,—than do which, I'd sooner have seen my own brains blown out? I would, indeed."
"He has written to me about the money, Mr Rubb."
"Yes; he came to me, and behaved shamefully to me; and he saw your brother, too, and has been making all manner of ignominious inquiries. Those lawyers can never understand that there can be anything of friendly feeling about money. They can't put friendly feelings into their unconscionable bills. I believe the world would go on better if there was no such thing as an attorney in it. I wonder who invented them, and why?"
Miss Mackenzie could give him no information on this point, and therefore he went on:
"But you must tell me what he has said, and what it is he wants us to do. For your sake, if you ask us, Miss Mackenzie, we'll do anything. We'll sell the coats off our backs, if you wish it. You shall never lose one shilling by Rubb and Mackenzie as long as I have anything to do with the firm. But I'm sure you will excuse me if I say that we can do nothing at the bidding of that old cormorant."
"I don't know that there's anything to be done, Mr Rubb."