Mr. Woodcourt replied that I had hinted as much to him. “Now pray,” returned Richard, “don’t think me a heap of selfishness. Don’t suppose that I am splitting my head and half breaking my heart over this miserable Chancery suit for my own rights and interests alone. Ada’s are bound up with mine; they can’t be separated; Vholes works for both of us. Do think of that!”

He was so very solicitous on this head that Mr. Woodcourt gave him the strongest assurances that he did him no injustice.

“You see,” said Richard, with something pathetic in his manner of lingering on the point, though it was offhand and unstudied, “to an upright fellow like you, bringing a friendly face like yours here, I cannot bear the thought of appearing selfish and mean. I want to see Ada righted, Woodcourt, as well as myself; I want to do my utmost to right her, as well as myself; I venture what I can scrape together to extricate her, as well as myself. Do, I beseech you, think of that!”