The introductions were gone through in much form.  The archdeacon shook hands with the bishop, and named Mr. Harding.  His lordship then presented them to his lady wife.  After this Mr. Slope presented himself.  The bishop did mention his name, and so did Mrs. Proudie, too, in a louder tone; but Mr. Slope took upon himself the chief burden of his own introduction.  He thrust out his hand, and, grasping that of the archdeacon, bedewed it unmercifully.  Dr. Grantly in return bowed, looked stiff, contracted his eyebrows, and wiped his hand with his pocket handkerchief.  Nothing abashed, Mr. Slope then noticed the precentor, and descended to the grade of the lower clergy.

There were four persons there, each of whom considered himself—­or herself, as Mrs. Proudie was one of them—­the most important personage in the diocese.  The bishop himself actually wore the visible apron.  The archdeacon knew his subject, and really understood the business of bishoping, which the others did not.  Mrs. Proudie had her habit of command.  Mr. Slope had only his own courage and tact to depend on.

“I fear there is a great deal of Sabbath travelling here,” said Mr. Slope.  “On looking at the ‘Bradshaw,’ I see that there are three trains in and three out every Sabbath.  Could nothing be done to induce the company to withdraw them?”

“Not being a director, I really can’t say.  But if you can withdraw the passengers, the company, I dare say, will withdraw the trains,” said the archdeacon.  “It’s merely a question of dividends.”

“But surely, Dr. Grantly,” said the lady, “surely we should look at it differently.  Don’t you think so, Mr. Harding?”

Mr. Harding thought that all porters and stokers, guards and pointsmen ought to have an opportunity of going to church, and he hoped that they all had.

“But surely, surely!” continued Mrs. Proudie, “surely that is not enough.”

Come what might, Dr. Grantly was not to be forced into a dissertation on a point of doctrine with Mrs. Proudie, nor yet with Mr. Slope; so he turned his back upon the sofa, and hoped that Dr. Proudie had found the palace repairs had been such as to meet his wishes.

At once Mr. Slope sidled over to the bishop’s chair, and began a catalogue of grievances concerning the stables and the out-houses.  Mrs. Proudie, while she lent her assistance in reciting the palatial short-comings in the matter of gas, hot-water pipes, and the locks on the doors of servants’ bedrooms, did not give up her hold of Mr. Harding.  Over and over again she had thrown out her “Surely, surely!” at Mr. Harding’s devoted head, and ill had that gentleman been able to parry the attack.

He had never before found himself subjected to such a nuisance, or been so hard pressed in his life.  Mrs. Proudie interrogated him, and then lectured.  “Neither thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man servant, nor thy maid servant,” said she, impressively, and more than once, as though Mr. Harding had forgotten the words.  She shook her fingers at him as she quoted the law, as though menacing him with punishment.