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He didn't steal the cheque. Mrs Arabin gave it to him." "Who says so? How do you know? Oh, dear; I am so happy, if it's true." Then she saw Mr Toogood and curtseyed. "It is quite true, my dear," said Mr Walker. "Mr Toogood has had a message by the wires from Mrs Arabin at Venice. She is coming home at once, and no doubt everything will be put right.
"No, not the dean. What we know is this, that your aunt has telegraphed to Crawley's cousin, Toogood, to say that she gave Crawley the cheque, and that she has written to your father about it at length. We do not like to tell Crawley till that letter has been received. It is so easy, you know, to misunderstand a telegram, and the wrong copying of a word may make such a mistake!"
"I knew you'd be glad to hear it, so I ventured to disturb you." "Is it good news?" said Anne Prettyman. "Very good news. Mr Crawley is innocent." Both the ladies sprang on to their legs. Even Miss Prettyman herself jumped up on to her legs. "No!" said Anne. "Your father has discovered it?" said Miss Prettyman. "Not exactly that. Mr Toogood has come down from London to tell him.
"You've heard about Mr Soames and his cheque, and about Mr Crawley, I daresay?" said Mr Toogood. "I've heard a deal about them," said the landlord. "And so, I daresay, have you?" said Toogood, turning to Dan Stringer. But Dan Stringer did not seem inclined to carry on the conversation any further.
What a name, he would say, is Lamb for a soldier, Joy for an undertaker, Rich for a pauper, or Noble for a tailor; Big for a lean or little person, and Small for one who is broad in the rear and abdominous in the van; Short for a fellow six feet without his shoes, or Long for him whose high heels barely elevate him to the height of five; Sweet for one who has either a vinegar face, or a foxy complexion; Younghusband for an old bachelor; Merryweather for any one in November or February, a black spring, a cold summer, or a wet autumn; Goodenough for a person no better than he should be; Toogood for any human creature; and Best for a subject who is perhaps too bad to be endured.
Toogood, however, would not wait for that; but rising quickly and passing the waiter, crossed the hall from the coffee-room, and entered what was called the bar. The bar was a small room connected with the hall by a large open window, at which orders for rooms were given and cash was paid, and glasses of beer were consumed, and a good deal of miscellaneous conversation was carried on.
"He's a good sort of fellow after all," he said to himself when the gig had passed on. "He wouldn't have talked in that way if he meant to hang back." Mr Toogood Mr Crawley had declared to Mr Robarts, that he would summon no legal aid to his assistance at the coming trial.
It might be all very well for Mr Toogood to arrange that he would not tell this person or that person of the news which he had brought down from London; but as he had told various people in Silverbridge, as he had told Mr Soames, and as he had told the police at Barchester, of course the tale found its way to the palace.
Whether it be better to eat the bread of charity, or not to eat bread at all, I, for myself, have no doubt," he said; "but when the want strikes one's wife and children, and the charity strikes only oneself, then there is a doubt." When he spoke thus, Mr Toogood got up, and thrusting his hands into his waistcoat pockets walked about the room, exclaiming, "By George, by George, by George!"
"You don't know the Silverbridge people, do you?" asked Mr Toogood. Eames said that he did not. He had been at Silverbridge more than once, but did not know very much of the Silverbridgians. "Because Walker is coming to dine here. Walker is the leading man in Silverbridge." "And what is Walker; besides being the leading man in Silverbridge?" "He's a lawyer. Walker and Winthrop.
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