known to the
contrary, he would have imagined that his enemy had won the deanship,
the wife, and all the rich honours for which he had been striving. As
it was, he had lost everything that he had in the world, and had just
received his _conge_ from the bishop.

In leaving the town the archdeacon drove by the well-remembered
entrance of Hiram's Hospital. There, at the gate, was a large, untidy
farmer's wagon, laden with untidy-looking furniture; and there,
inspecting the arrival, was good Mrs. Quiverful--not dressed in her
Sunday best, not very clean in her apparel, not graceful as to her
bonnet and shawl, or, indeed, with many feminine charms as to her
whole appearance. She was busy at domestic work in her new house, and
had just ventured out, expecting to see no one on the arrival of the
family chattels. The archdeacon was down upon her before she knew
where she was.

Her acquaintance with Dr. Grantly or his family was very slight
indeed. The archdeacon, as a matter of course, knew every clergyman
in the archdeaconry--it may almost be said in the diocese--and had
some acquaintance, more or less intimate, with their wives and
families. With Mr. Quiverful he had been concerned on various matters
of business, but of Mrs. Q. he had seen very little. Now, however, he
was in too gracious a mood to pass her by unnoticed. The Quiverfuls,
one and all, had looked for the bitterest hostility from Dr. Grantly;
they knew his anxiety that Mr. Harding should return to his old home
at the hospital, and they did not know that a new home had been
offered to him at the deanery. Mrs. Quiverful was therefore not a
little surprised, and not a little rejoiced also, at the tone in which
she was addressed.

"How do you do, Mrs. Quiverful, how do you do?" said he, stretching
his left hand out of the gig as he spoke to her. "I am very glad
to see you employed in so pleasant and useful a manner; very glad
indeed."

Mrs. Quiverful thanked him, and shook hands with him, and looked into
his face suspiciously. She was not sure whether the congratulations
and kindness were or were not ironical.

"Pray tell Mr. Quiverful from me," he continued, "that I am rejoiced
at his appointment. It's a comfortable place, Mrs. Quiverful,
and a comfortable house, and I am very glad to see you in it.
Good-bye--good-bye." And he drove on, leaving the lady well pleased
and astonished at his good nature. On the whole things were going well
with the archdeacon,