"Mrs.Bold has twelve hundred a year of her own, and I suppose Mr.Harding means to live with her." "Twelve hundred a year of her own!" said Slope, and very shortly afterwards took his leave, avoiding, as far as it was possible for him to do, any further allusion to the hospital.

"Twelve hundred a year!" said he to himself as he rode slowly home.

If it were the fact that Mrs.Bold had twelve hundred a year of her own, what a fool would he be to oppose her father's return to his old place.

The train of Mr.Slope's ideas will probably be plain to all my readers.
Why should he not make the twelve hundred a year his own?
And if he did so, would it not be well for him to have a father-in-law comfortably provided with the good things of this world?
Would it not, moreover, be much more easy for him to gain the daughter if he did all in his power to forward the father's views?
These questions presented themselves to him in a very forcible way, and yet there were many points of doubt.

If he resolved to restore to Mr.Harding his former place, he must take the necessary steps for doing so at once; he must immediately talk over the bishop, quarrel on the matter with Mrs.Proudie, whom he knew he could not talk over, and let Mr.Quiverful know that he had been a little too precipitate as to Mr.Harding's positive refusal.