very fond of talking about this gentleman, who had once been
her pet chaplain, but was now her bitterest foe; and in telling the
story, she had sometimes to whisper to Miss Dunstable, for there
were one or two fie-fie little anecdotes about a married lady, not
altogether fit for young Mr. Robarts's ears. But Mrs. Harold Smith
insisted on having them out loud, and Miss Dunstable would gratify
that lady in spite of Mrs. Proudie's winks.

"What, kissing her hand, and he a clergyman!" said Miss Dunstable.
"I did not think they ever did such things, Mr. Robarts."

"Still waters run deepest," said Mrs. Harold Smith.

"Hush-h-h," looked, rather than spoke, Mrs. Proudie. "The grief
of spirit which that bad man caused me nearly broke my heart, and
all the while, you know, he was courting--" and then Mrs. Proudie
whispered a name.

"What, the dean's wife!" shouted Miss Dunstable, in a voice which
made the coachman of the next carriage give a chuck to his horses as
he overheard her.

"The archdeacon's sister-in-law!" screamed Mrs. Harold Smith.

"What might he not have attempted next?" said Miss Dunstable.

"She wasn't the dean's wife then, you know," said Mrs. Proudie,
explaining.

"Well, you've a gay set in the chapter, I must say," said Miss
Dunstable. "You ought to make one of them in Barchester, Mr.
Robarts."

"Only perhaps Mrs. Robarts might not like it," said Mrs. Harold
Smith.

"And then the schemes which he tried on with the bishop!" said Mrs.
Proudie.

"It's all fair in love and war, you know," said Miss Dunstable.

"But he little knew whom he had to deal with when he began that,"
said Mrs. Proudie.

"The bishop was too many for him," suggested Mrs. Harold Smith, very
maliciously.

"If the bishop was not, somebody else was; and he was obliged to
leave Barchester in utter disgrace. He has since married the wife of
some tallow-chandler."

"The wife!" said Miss Dunstable. "What a man!"

"Widow, I mean; but it's all one to him."

"The gentleman was clearly born when Venus was in the ascendant,"
said Mrs. Smith. "You clergymen usually are, I believe, Mr. Robarts."
So that Mrs. Proudie's carriage was by no means the dullest as they
drove into Barchester that day; and by degrees our friend Mark became
accustomed to his companions, and before they reached the palace he
acknowledged to himself that Miss Dunstable was very good fun. We
cannot linger over the bishop's dinner, though it was very good of
its