“Turn the flank,—eh?” said the old lawyer, slyly. “Ah, Martin, don't teach me how to deal with humanity. If you have not the courage to tell your wife that your estate cannot bear fresh encumbrances, new loans, and new debts—”
“Hush!” said Martin, cautiously.
“Then, I say, let me prevent the casualty, that's all.”
“How are you, Scanlan?” said Martin, as the attorney came, bowing and smiling, forward to pay his respects. “My friend, Mr. Repton, wishes to make your acquaintance.”
“I have the honor of being known to Mr. Repton, already, sir, if he has not forgotten me.”
“Eh,—how? where?” cried the lawyer, sharply.
“In Reeves versus Dockery, and another, sir, in Hilary, 24. It was I supplied the instructions—”
“To be sure,—perfectly right. Maurice Scanlan; isn't that the name? You did the thing well, sir; and if we failed, we retreated without dishonor.”
“That was a grand shot you fired at the Bench, sir, when all was over,” said Scanlan. “I don't suppose they ever got such a complete 'set down' before.”
“I forget it,” said Repton, but with a bright twinkle of his eye, which more than contradicted his words.