Unluckily for himself and others, in the version which he chose he was careful to include all matters likely to arouse Dunborough's resentment; in particular he laid malicious stress upon the attorney's scornful words about a marriage.
This, however--and perhaps the care he took to repeat it--had an unlooked-for result.

Mr.Dunborough began by cursing the rogue's impudence, and did it with all the heat his best friend could desire.
But, being confined to his room, haunted by the vision of his flame, yet debarred from any attempt to see her, his mood presently changed; his heart became as water, and he fell into a maudlin state about her.
Dwelling constantly on memories of his Briseis--whose name, by the way, was Julia--having her shape and complexion, her gentle touch and her smile, always in his mind, while he was unable in the body to see so much as the hem of her gown, Achilles grew weaker in will as he grew stronger in body.

Headstrong and reckless by nature, unaccustomed to thwart a desire or deny himself a gratification, Mr.Dunborough began to contemplate paying even the last price for her; and one day, about three weeks after the duel, dropped a word which frightened Mr.Thomasson.
He was well enough by this time to be up, and was looking through one window while the tutor lounged in the seat of another.

On a sudden 'Lord!' said he, with a laugh that broke off short in the middle.

'What was the queer catch that fellow sang last night?
About a bailiff's daughter.