The Last Chronicle of Barset [88]
word will not be respected by you. I have therefore no alternative now but to invite you to come to me here; and this I do, hoping that I may induce you to listen to the authority which I cannot but suppose you acknowledge to be vested in the office which I hold.
'I shall be glad to see you tomorrow, Tuesday, as near the hour of two as you can make it convenient to yourself to be here, and I will take care to order that refreshment will be provided for yourself and your horse.--I am, Reverend Sir, &c, &c, &c.
'THOS. BARNUM'
'My dear,' he said, when he did again encounter his wife that night, 'I have written to Mr Crawley, and I thought I might as well bring up the copy of my letter.'
'I wash my hands of the whole affair,' said Mrs Proudie--'of the whole affair.'
'But you will look at the letter?'
'Certainly not. Why should I look at the letter? My word goes for nothing. I have done what I could, but in vain. Now let us see how you manage it yourself.'
The bishop did not pass a comfortable night; but in the morning his wife did read the letter, and after that things went a little smoother with him. She was pleased to say that, considering all things; seeing, as she could not help seeing, that the matter had been dreadfully mismanaged, and that great weakness had been displayed;--seeing that these faults had already been committed, perhaps no better step could now be taken than that proposed in the letter.
'I suppose he will not come,' said the bishop.
'I think he will,' said Mrs Proudie, 'and I trust that we may be able to convince him that obedience will be the best course. He will be more humble-minded here than at Hogglestock.' In saying this the lady showed some knowledge of the general nature of clergymen and of the world at large. She understood how much louder a cock can crow in his own farmyard than elsewhere, and knew that episcopal authority, backed by all the solemn awe of palatial grandeur, goes much further than it will do when sent under the folds of an ordinary envelope. But though she understood ordinary human nature, it may be that she did not understand Mr Crawley's nature.
But she was at any rate right in her idea as to Mr Crawley's immediate reply. The palace groom who rode over to Hogglestock returned with an immediate answer.
'MY LORD'--said Mr Crawley,
'I will obey your lordship's summons, and, unless impediments should arise, I will wait upon your lordship at the hour you name tomorrow. I will not trespass on your hospitality. For myself, I rarely break bread in any house but my own; and as to the horse, I have none--I have the honour to by, My lord, &c, &c,
JOSIAH CRAWLEY'
'Of course I shall go,' he had said to his wife as soon as he had time to read the letter, and make known to her the contents. 'I shall go if it be possible for me to get there. I think that I am bound to comply with the bishop's wishes in so much as that.'
'But how will you get there, Josiah?'
'I will walk--with the Lord's aid.'
Now Hogglestock was fifteen miles from Barchester, and Mr Crawley was, as his wife well knew, by no means fitted in his present state for great physical exertion. But from the tone in which he had replied to her, she well knew that it would not avail for her to remonstrate at the moment. He had walked more than thirty miles in a day since he had been living at Hogglestock, and she did not doubt but that it might be possible for him to do it again. Any scheme, which she might be able to devise for saving him from so terrible a journey in the middle of winter, must be pondered over silently, and brought to bear, if not slyly, at least deftly, and without discussion. She made no reply therefore when he declared on the following day he would walk to Barchester and back--with the Lord's aid; nor did she see, or ask to see the note which he sent to the bishop. When the messenger was gone, Mr Crawley was all alert, looking forward with evident glee to his encounter with the bishop--snorting like a racehorse at the expected triumph of the coming struggle.
'I shall be glad to see you tomorrow, Tuesday, as near the hour of two as you can make it convenient to yourself to be here, and I will take care to order that refreshment will be provided for yourself and your horse.--I am, Reverend Sir, &c, &c, &c.
'THOS. BARNUM'
'My dear,' he said, when he did again encounter his wife that night, 'I have written to Mr Crawley, and I thought I might as well bring up the copy of my letter.'
'I wash my hands of the whole affair,' said Mrs Proudie--'of the whole affair.'
'But you will look at the letter?'
'Certainly not. Why should I look at the letter? My word goes for nothing. I have done what I could, but in vain. Now let us see how you manage it yourself.'
The bishop did not pass a comfortable night; but in the morning his wife did read the letter, and after that things went a little smoother with him. She was pleased to say that, considering all things; seeing, as she could not help seeing, that the matter had been dreadfully mismanaged, and that great weakness had been displayed;--seeing that these faults had already been committed, perhaps no better step could now be taken than that proposed in the letter.
'I suppose he will not come,' said the bishop.
'I think he will,' said Mrs Proudie, 'and I trust that we may be able to convince him that obedience will be the best course. He will be more humble-minded here than at Hogglestock.' In saying this the lady showed some knowledge of the general nature of clergymen and of the world at large. She understood how much louder a cock can crow in his own farmyard than elsewhere, and knew that episcopal authority, backed by all the solemn awe of palatial grandeur, goes much further than it will do when sent under the folds of an ordinary envelope. But though she understood ordinary human nature, it may be that she did not understand Mr Crawley's nature.
But she was at any rate right in her idea as to Mr Crawley's immediate reply. The palace groom who rode over to Hogglestock returned with an immediate answer.
'MY LORD'--said Mr Crawley,
'I will obey your lordship's summons, and, unless impediments should arise, I will wait upon your lordship at the hour you name tomorrow. I will not trespass on your hospitality. For myself, I rarely break bread in any house but my own; and as to the horse, I have none--I have the honour to by, My lord, &c, &c,
JOSIAH CRAWLEY'
'Of course I shall go,' he had said to his wife as soon as he had time to read the letter, and make known to her the contents. 'I shall go if it be possible for me to get there. I think that I am bound to comply with the bishop's wishes in so much as that.'
'But how will you get there, Josiah?'
'I will walk--with the Lord's aid.'
Now Hogglestock was fifteen miles from Barchester, and Mr Crawley was, as his wife well knew, by no means fitted in his present state for great physical exertion. But from the tone in which he had replied to her, she well knew that it would not avail for her to remonstrate at the moment. He had walked more than thirty miles in a day since he had been living at Hogglestock, and she did not doubt but that it might be possible for him to do it again. Any scheme, which she might be able to devise for saving him from so terrible a journey in the middle of winter, must be pondered over silently, and brought to bear, if not slyly, at least deftly, and without discussion. She made no reply therefore when he declared on the following day he would walk to Barchester and back--with the Lord's aid; nor did she see, or ask to see the note which he sent to the bishop. When the messenger was gone, Mr Crawley was all alert, looking forward with evident glee to his encounter with the bishop--snorting like a racehorse at the expected triumph of the coming struggle.