He had determined, also, as a matter of course, that in regard to the public poor of Sevenoaks he would give all his influence toward maintaining the existing state of things.

The idea of being influenced by a woman, particularly by a woman over whom he had no influence, to change his policy with regard to anything, public or private, was one against which all the brute within him rebelled.
In this state of mind, angry with himself for having tolerated one who had so boldly and ruthlessly wounded his self-love, he had but one resort.

He could not confess his humiliation to his wife; and there was no one in the world with whom he could hold conversation on the subject, except his old confidant who came into the mirror when wanted, and conveniently retired when the interview closed.
Rising from his chair, and approaching his mirror, as if he had been whipped, he stood a full minute regarding his disgraced and speechless image.

"Are you Robert Belcher, Esquire, of Sevenoaks ?" he inquired, at length.

"Are you the person who has been insulted by a woman?
Look at me, sir! Turn not away! Have you any constitutional objections to telling me how you feel?
Are you, sir, the proprietor of this house?
Are you the owner of yonder mill?
Are you the distinguished person who carries Sevenoaks in his pocket?
How are the mighty fallen! And you, sir, who have been insulted by a tailoress, can stand here, and look me in the face, and still pretend to be a man! You are a scoundrel, sir--a low, mean-spirited scoundrel, sir.