But wretched as he was during that evening he did employ himself with some energy.  After much thought he resolved that he would again write to Mr Crawley, and summon him to appear at the palace.  In doing this he would at any rate be doing something.  There would be action.  And though Mr Crawley would, as he thought, decline to obey the order, something would be gained even by that disobedience.  So he wrote his summons—­sitting very fortless and all alone on that Sunday evening—­dating his letter, however, for the following day:—­

’Palace, December 20, 186-
’reverend sir,

’I have just heard from Mr Thumble that you have declined to accede to the advice which I thought it my duty to tender to you as the bishop who has been set over you by the Church, and that you yesterday insisted on what you believed to be your right, to administer the services of the parish church of Hogglestock.  This has occasioned me the deepest regret.  It is, I think, unavailing that I should further write to you my mind upon the subject, as I possess such strong evidence that my written word will not be respected by you.  I have therefore no alternative now but to invite you to come to me here; and this I do, hoping that I may induce you to listen to the authority which I cannot but suppose you acknowledge to be vested in the office which I hold.

’I shall be glad to see you tomorrow, Tuesday, as near the hour of two as you can make it convenient to yourself to be here, and I will take care to order that refreshment will be provided for yourself and your horse.—­I am, Reverend Sir, &c, &c, &c.

‘THOS.  Barnum’

‘My dear,’ he said, when he did again encounter his wife that night, ’I have written to Mr Crawley, and I thought I might as well bring up the copy of my letter.’

‘I wash my hands of the whole affair,’ said Mrs Proudie—­’of the whole affair.’

‘But you will look at the letter?’

’Certainly not.  Why should I look at the letter?  My word goes for nothing.  I have done what I could, but in vain.  Now let us see how you manage it yourself.’

The bishop did not pass a comfortable night; but in the morning his wife did read the letter, and after that things went a little smoother with him.  She was pleased to say that, considering all things; seeing, as she could not help seeing, that the matter had been dreadfully mismanaged, and that great weakness had been displayed;—­seeing that these faults had already been committed, perhaps no better step could now be taken than that proposed in the letter.

‘I suppose he will not come,’ said the bishop.

‘I think he will,’ said Mrs Proudie, ’and I trust that we may be able to convince him that obedience will be the best course.  He will be more humble-minded here than at Hogglestock.’  In saying this the lady showed some knowledge of the general nature of clergymen and of the world at large.  She understood how much louder a cock can crow in his own farmyard than elsewhere, and knew that episcopal authority, backed by all the solemn awe of palatial grandeur, goes much further than it will do when sent under the folds of an ordinary envelope.  But though she understood ordinary human nature, it may be that she did not understand Mr Crawley’s nature.