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Updated: September 28, 2025
He's worth six thousand pounds, I suppose; now that's a good deal of money to put by in a little town like Barchester." "Yes, indeed." "What I say to Fillgrave is this keep your eyes open; one should never be too old to learn there's always something new worth picking up. But, no he won't believe that. He can't believe that any new ideas can be worth anything.
"Yes, Dr Fillgrave; you see, when a man like he gets well, he can't abide the idea of doctors: now, yesterday, he was all for sending for you; but to-day he comes to hisself, and don't seem to want no doctor at all."
The hearts, however, of some of the inhabitants were not so tranquil as the streets of the city. The poor old dean still continued to live, just as Sir Omicron Pie had prophesied that he would do, much to the amazement, and some thought disgust, of Dr. Fillgrave. The bishop still remained away.
"What have I done to you, Dr Fillgrave," said Dr Thorne, now absolutely laughing, "that you should determined to take my bread out of my mouth? I am not interfering with your patient. I have come here simply with reference to money matters appertaining to Sir Roger." "Money matters! Very well very well; money matters. That is your idea of medical practice! Very well very well.
I have the greatest respect for Dr Thorne," said he; "the greatest possible respect; a most skilful practitioner something brusque certainly, and perhaps a little obstinate. But what then? we all have our faults, Lady Scatcherd." "Oh yes; we all have, Mr Rerechild; that's certain." "There's my friend Fillgrave Lady Scatcherd. He cannot bear anything of that sort.
That d d fellow, Fillgrave, is coming back in an hour to bleed me: do you mount guard refuse to let him in pay him his bill you have the money. And harkye, don't be rude to the rascal." "Rude, your honour! not I been in the Forty-second knows discipline only rude to the privates!"
After a while Dr Fillgrave himself suggested Dr Century. "Not that I fear anything, Lady Arabella," said he, lying hugely, for he did fear; fear both for himself and for her. "But Dr Century has great experience, and in such a matter, when the interests are so important, one cannot be too safe." So Dr Century came and toddled slowly into her ladyship's room.
"I will be at Boxall Hill in the course of the morning," said Dr Fillgrave; "or, rather, you may say, that I will be there at once: I will take it in my way." And having thus resolved, he gave his orders that the post-horses should make such a detour as would enable him to visit Boxall Hill on his road.
A man of this sort was not fit society for Dr Fillgrave of Barchester. That must be admitted. And yet he had been found to be fit society for the old squire of Greshamsbury, whose shoe-ribbons Dr Fillgrave would not have objected to tie; so high did the old squire stand in the county just previous to his death.
Sir Louis again declared that the doctor wished him to die, and spoke of sending for his attorney, Finnie, to come to Greshamsbury to look after him. "Send for him if you choose," said the doctor. "His coming will cost you three or four pounds, but can do no other harm." "And I will send for Fillgrave," threatened the baronet. "I'm not going to die here like a dog."
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