In this manner she did not come to understand, before the arrival of Mr Chadwick, that her husband could take no legal steps towards silencing Mr Crawley until a commission of clergymen had been appointed to inquire into the matter, and that the commission should be headed by the rural dean within the limits of whose rural deanery the parish of Hogglestock was situated, or by some beneficed parochial clergyman of repute in the neighbourhood.  Now the rural dean was Dr Tempest of Silverbridge—­who had held that position before the coming of Dr Proudie to the diocese; and there had grown up in the bosom of Mrs Proudie a strong feeling that undue mercy had been shown to Mr Crawley by the magistrates of Silverbridge, of whom Dr Tempest had been one.  ’These magistrates had taken bail for his appearance at the assizes, instead of committing him to prison at once—­as they were bound to do, when such an offence as that had been committed by a clergyman.  But, no;—­even though there was a clergymen among them, they had thought nothing of the souls of the poor people!’ In such language, Mrs Proudie had spoken of the affair at Silverbridge, and having once committed herself to such an opinion, of course she thought that Dr Tempest would go through fire and water and would omit no stretch of what little judicial power might be committed to his hands—­with the view of opposing his bishop, and maintaining the culprit in is position.  ’In such a case as this, can not you name an acting rural dean yourself?  Dr Tempest, you know, is very old.’  ’No, my dear; no; I cannot.’  ’You can ask Mr Chadwick, at any rate, and then you could name Mr Thumble.’  ’But Mr Thumble doesn’t even hold a living in the diocese.  Oh, dear; oh, dear; oh, dear!’ And so the matter rested till Mr Chadwick came.

Mrs Proudie had no doubt intended to have Mr Chadwick all to herself—­at any rate so as to encounter him in the first instance.  But having been at length convinced that the inquiry by the rural dean was really necessary as a preliminary, and having also slept upon the question of expenditure, she gave direction that the lawyer should be shown into the bishop’s study, and she took care to be absent at the moment of his arrival.  Of course she did not intend that Mr Chadwick should leave the palace without having heard what she had to say, but she thought that it would be well that he should be made to conceive that though the summons had been written by her, it had really been intended on the part of the bishop.  ‘Mr Chadwick will be with you at eleven, bishop,’ she said, as she got up from the breakfast-table, at which she left his lordship with two of his daughters and with a married son-in-law, a clergyman who was staying in the house.  ‘Very well, my dear,’ said the bishop, with a smile—­for he was anxious not to betray any vexation at his wife’s interference before his daughters or the Rev Mr Tickler.  But he understood it all.  Mr Chadwick had been sent for with reference to Mr Crawley, and he was driven—­absolutely driven, to propose to his lawyer that this commission of inquiry should be issued.