e no obstacle to such a
marriage; nay, he was sure that the very fact of his poverty would
induce Bold more anxiously to press the matter; but he disliked
counting on Bold in this emergency, brought on, as it had been, by
his doing. He did not like saying to himself, Bold has turned me
out of my house and income, and, therefore, he must relieve me of my
daughter; he preferred reckoning on Eleanor as the companion of his
poverty and exile,--as the sharer of his small income.

Some modest provision for his daughter had been long since made. His
life was insured for three thousand pounds, and this sum was to go to
Eleanor. The archdeacon, for some years past, had paid the premium,
and had secured himself by the immediate possession of a small
property which was to have gone to Mrs Grantly after her father's
death. This matter, therefore, had been taken out of the warden's
hands long since, as, indeed, had all the business transactions of
his family, and his anxiety was, therefore, confined to his own life
income.

Yes. A hundred and fifty per annum was very small, but still it might
suffice; but how was he to chant the litany at the cathedral on Sunday
mornings, and get the service done at Crabtree Parva? True, Crabtree
Church was not quite a mile and a half from the cathedral; but he
could not be in two places at once. Crabtree was a small village,
and afternoon service might suffice, but still this went against his
conscience; it was not right that his parishioners should be robbed
of any of their privileges on account of his poverty. He might, to
be sure, make some arrangements for doing week-day service at the
cathedral; but he had chanted the litany at Barchester so long, and
had a conscious feeling that he did it so well, that he was unwilling
to give up the duty.

Thinking of such things, turning over in his own mind together small
desires and grave duties, but never hesitating for a moment as to the
necessity of leaving the hospital, Mr Harding walked up and down the
abbey, or sat still meditating on the same stone step, hour after
hour. One verger went and another came, but they did not disturb him;
every now and then they crept up and looked at him, but they did so
with a reverential stare, and, on the whole, Mr Harding found his
retreat well chosen. About four o'clock his comfort was disturbed
by an enemy in the shape of hunger. It was necessary that he should
dine, and it was clear that he could