The death of old Dr. Grantly, who had for many years filled that chair with meek authority, took place exactly as the ministry of Lord——­was going to give place to that of Lord——.  The illness of the good old man was long and lingering, and it became at last a matter of intense interest to those concerned whether the new appointment should be made by a Conservative or Liberal government.

It was pretty well understood that the outgoing premier had made his selection, and that, if the question rested with him, the mitre would descend on the head of Archdeacon Grantly, the old bishop’s son, who had long managed the affairs of the diocese.

A trying time was this for the archdeacon as he sat by his father’s dying bed.  The ministry were to be out within five days:  his father was to be dead within—­no, he rejected that view of the subject.

Presently Mr. Harding entered noiselessly.

“God bless you, my dears”—­said the bishop with feeble voice—­“God bless you both.”  And so he died.

“It’s a great relief, archdeacon,” said Mr. Harding, “a great relief.  Dear, good, excellent old man.  Oh, that our last moments may be as innocent and as peaceful as his!”

The archdeacon’s mind, however, had already travelled from the death chamber to the study of the prime minister.  It was already evening, and nearly dark.  It was most important that the prime minister should know that night that the diocese was vacant.  Everything might depend on it.  And so, in answer to Mr. Harding’s further consolation, the archdeacon suggested that a telegraph message should be immediately sent to London.

Mr. Harding got as far as the library door with the slip of paper containing the message to the prime minister, when he turned back.

“I forgot to tell you,” he said.  “The ministry are out.  Mr. Chadwick got the news by telegraph, and left word at the palace door.”

Thus terminated our unfortunate friend’s chance of possessing the glories of a bishopric.

The names of many divines were given in the papers as that of the bishop elect.  And then the Jupiter declared that Dr. Proudie was to be the man.

Dr. Proudie was the man.  Just a month after the demise of the late bishop, Dr. Proudie kissed the queen’s hand as his successor elect, and was consecrated bishop of Barchester.

Dr. Proudie was one among those who early in life adapted himself to the views held by the Whigs on most theological and religious subjects.  Toleration became the basis on which he fought his battles, and at this time he was found to be useful by the government.  In person he was a good-looking man, and it was no fault of his own if he had not a commanding eye, for he studied hard for it.

Dr. Proudie may well be said to have been a fortunate man, for he had not been born to wealth, and he was now bishop of Barchester with L5000 a year; but nevertheless he had his cares.  He had a large family, of whom the three eldest were daughters, now all grown up and all fitted for fashionable life; and he had a wife.