“No, you do not.”
He bowed to the ladies, and as he went out, the parlour-door being open, he moved the outer door backwards and forwards.
“It would be as well, Mrs. Fairfax, to have a bell hung there which would act properly.”
“I don’t know quite what Dr. Midleton means,” said Mrs. Harrop when he had gone. “The bell did ring, loud enough for most people to have heard it, and I waited ever so long.”
He walked down the street with his customary firm step, and met Mr. Bingham who stopped him, half smiling and not quite at his ease.
“We are sorry, Doctor, you did not give Hutchings your vote for the almshouse last Thursday; we expected you would have gone with us.”
“You expected? Why?”
“Well, you see, sir, Hutchings has always worked hard for our side.”
“I am astonished, Mr. Bingham, that you should suppose that I will ever consent to divert the funds of a trust for party purposes.”
Mr. Bingham, although he had just determined to give the Doctor a bit of his mind, felt his strength depart from him. His sentences lacked power to stand upright and fell sprawling. “No offence, Doctor, I merely wanted you to know—not so much my own views—difficulty to keep our friends together. Short—you know Tom Short—was saying to me he was afraid—”