Barchester Towers [30]
speak too highly; he would not now allude to a subject which was probably too serious for drawing-room conversation, but he would say, that it had been very far from him to utter a word in disparagement of a man, of whom all the world, at least the clerical world, spoke of so highly as it did of Mr Harding. And so he went on, unsaying a great deal of his sermon, expressing his highest admiration for the precentor's musical talents, eulogising the father and the daughter and the sister-in-law, speaking in that low silky whisper which he always had specially prepared for feminine ears, and, ultimately, gaining his object. When he left, he expressed a hope that he might again be allowed to call; and though Eleanor gave no verbal assent to this, she did not express dissent; and so Mr Slope's right to visit at the widow's house was established.
The day after this visit Eleanor told her father of it, and expressed an opinion that Mr Slope was not quite so black as he had been painted. Mr Harding opened he eyes rather wider than usual when he heard what had occurred, but he said little; he could not agree in any praise of Mr Slope, and it was not his practice to say much evil of any one. He did not, however, like the visit, and simple-minded as he was, he felt sure that Mr Slope had some deeper motive than the mere pleasure of making soft speeches to two ladies.
Mr Harding, however, had come to see his daughter with other purpose than that of speaking either good or evil of Mr Slope. He had come to tell her that the place of warden in Hiram's hospital was again to be filled up, and that in all probability he would once more return to his old house and his twelve bedesmen.
'But,' he said, laughing, 'I shall be greatly shorn of my ancient glory.'
'Why so, papa?'
'This new act of parliament, that is to put us all on our feet again,' continued he, 'settles my income at four hundred and fifty pounds per annum.'
'Four hundred and fifty,' said she, 'instead of eight hundred! Well; that is rather shabby. But still, papa, you'll have the dear old house and garden?'
'My dear,' said he, 'it's worth twice the money;' and as he spoke he showed a jaunty kind of satisfaction in his tone and manner, and in the quick, pleasant way in which he paced Eleanor's drawing-room. 'It's worth twice the money. I shall have the house and the garden, and a larger income than I can possibly want.'
'At any rate, you'll have no extravagant daughter to provide for;' and as she spoke, the young widow put her arm within his, and made him sit on the sofa beside her; 'at any rate you'll not have that expense.'
'No, my dear; and I shall be rather lonely without her; but we won't think of that now. As regards income I shall have plenty for all I want. I shall have my old house; and I don't mind owning now that I have felt sometimes the inconvenience of living in a lodging. Lodgings are very nice for young men, but at my time of life there is a want of--I hardly know what to call it, perhaps not respectability--'
'Oh, papa! I'm sure there's been nothing like that. Nobody has thought it; nobody in all Barchester has been more respected than you have been since you took those rooms in High Street. Nobody! Not the dean in his deanery, or the archdeacon at Plumstead.'
'The archdeacon would not be much obliged to you if he heard you,' said he, smiling somewhat at the exclusive manner in which his daughter confined her illustration to the church dignitaries of the chapter of Barchester; 'but at any rate, I shall be glad to get back to the old house. Since I heard that it was all settled, I have begun to fancy that I can't be comfortable without my two sitting-rooms.'
'Come and stay with me, papa, till it is settled--there's a dear papa.'
'Thank ye, Nelly. But no; I won't do that. It would make two movings. I shall be very glad to get back to my old men again. Alas! Alas! There have six of them gone in the few last years. Six out of twelve! And the others I fear have had but a sorry life of it there. Poor Bunce, poor old Bunce!'
Bunce
The day after this visit Eleanor told her father of it, and expressed an opinion that Mr Slope was not quite so black as he had been painted. Mr Harding opened he eyes rather wider than usual when he heard what had occurred, but he said little; he could not agree in any praise of Mr Slope, and it was not his practice to say much evil of any one. He did not, however, like the visit, and simple-minded as he was, he felt sure that Mr Slope had some deeper motive than the mere pleasure of making soft speeches to two ladies.
Mr Harding, however, had come to see his daughter with other purpose than that of speaking either good or evil of Mr Slope. He had come to tell her that the place of warden in Hiram's hospital was again to be filled up, and that in all probability he would once more return to his old house and his twelve bedesmen.
'But,' he said, laughing, 'I shall be greatly shorn of my ancient glory.'
'Why so, papa?'
'This new act of parliament, that is to put us all on our feet again,' continued he, 'settles my income at four hundred and fifty pounds per annum.'
'Four hundred and fifty,' said she, 'instead of eight hundred! Well; that is rather shabby. But still, papa, you'll have the dear old house and garden?'
'My dear,' said he, 'it's worth twice the money;' and as he spoke he showed a jaunty kind of satisfaction in his tone and manner, and in the quick, pleasant way in which he paced Eleanor's drawing-room. 'It's worth twice the money. I shall have the house and the garden, and a larger income than I can possibly want.'
'At any rate, you'll have no extravagant daughter to provide for;' and as she spoke, the young widow put her arm within his, and made him sit on the sofa beside her; 'at any rate you'll not have that expense.'
'No, my dear; and I shall be rather lonely without her; but we won't think of that now. As regards income I shall have plenty for all I want. I shall have my old house; and I don't mind owning now that I have felt sometimes the inconvenience of living in a lodging. Lodgings are very nice for young men, but at my time of life there is a want of--I hardly know what to call it, perhaps not respectability--'
'Oh, papa! I'm sure there's been nothing like that. Nobody has thought it; nobody in all Barchester has been more respected than you have been since you took those rooms in High Street. Nobody! Not the dean in his deanery, or the archdeacon at Plumstead.'
'The archdeacon would not be much obliged to you if he heard you,' said he, smiling somewhat at the exclusive manner in which his daughter confined her illustration to the church dignitaries of the chapter of Barchester; 'but at any rate, I shall be glad to get back to the old house. Since I heard that it was all settled, I have begun to fancy that I can't be comfortable without my two sitting-rooms.'
'Come and stay with me, papa, till it is settled--there's a dear papa.'
'Thank ye, Nelly. But no; I won't do that. It would make two movings. I shall be very glad to get back to my old men again. Alas! Alas! There have six of them gone in the few last years. Six out of twelve! And the others I fear have had but a sorry life of it there. Poor Bunce, poor old Bunce!'
Bunce