he had suffered during these contests,--suffered, that is, in
mind. There had been moments in which it seemed that the victory would be
on the other side, that the forces congregated against him were too many
for him, and that not being able to bend he would have to be broken; but
in every case he had fought it out, and in every case he had conquered.
He was now a prosperous man, who had achieved his own way, and had made
all those connected with him feel that it was better to like him and obey
him, than to dislike him and fight with him. His curates troubled him as
little as possible with the grace of godliness, and threw off as far as
they could that zeal which is so dear to the youthful mind but which so
often seems to be weak and flabby to their elders. His ushers or
assistants in the school fell in with his views implicitly, and were
content to accept compensation in the shape of personal civilities. It
was much better to go shares with the Doctor in a joke than to have to
bear his hard words.

It is chiefly in reference to one of these ushers that our story has to be
told. But before we commence it, we must say a few more words as to the
Doctor and his family. Of his wife I have already spoken. She was
probably as happy a woman as you shall be likely to meet on a summer's
day. She had good health, easy temper, pleasant friends, abundant means,
and no ambition. She went nowhere without the Doctor, and whenever he
went she enjoyed her share of the respect which was always shown to him.
She had little or nothing to do with the school, the Doctor having many
years ago resolved that though it became him as a man to work for his
bread, his wife should not be a slave. When the battles had been going
on,--those between the Doctor and the bishops, and the Doctor and Mrs.
Stantiloup, and the Doctor and the newspapers,--she had for a while been
unhappy. It had grieved her to have it insinuated that her husband was an
atheist, and asserted that her husband was a cormorant; but his courage
had sustained her, and his continual victories had taught her to believe
at last that he was indomitable.

They had one child, a daughter, Mary, of whom it was said in Bowick that
she alone knew the length of the Doctor's foot. It certainly was so that,
if Mrs. Wortle wished to have anything done which was a trifle beyond her
own influence, she employed Mary. And if the boys collectively wanted to
carry a point, they would "coll