‘One’s first duty is to one’s own wife and family,’ said Mr Quiverful.

’Well, yes; in a way, of course, that is quite true, Mr Quiverful; and when we know how very inadequate are the incomes of the working clergy, we cannot but feel ourselves to be, if I may so say, put upon, when we have to defray the expenses incidental to special duties out of our own pockets.  I think, you know—­I don’t mind saying this to you—­that the palace should have provided us with a chaise and pair.’  This was ungrateful on the part of Mr Thumble, who had been permitted to ride miles upon miles to various outlying clerical duties upon the bishop’s worn-out cob.  ‘You see,’ continued Mr Thumble, ’you and I go specially to represent the palace, and the palace ought to remember that.  I think there ought to have been a chaise and pair; I do indeed.’

‘I don’t care much what the conveyance is,’ said Mr Quiverful; ’but I certainly shall pay nothing more out of my own pocket;—­certainly I shall not.’

’The result will be that the palace will be thrown over if they don’t take care,’ said Mr Thumble.  ’Tempest, however, seems to be pretty steady.  Tempest, I think, is steady.  You see he is getting tired of parish work, and would like to go into the close.  That’s what he is looking out for.  Did you ever see such a fellow as that Robarts—­just look at him;—­quite indecent, wasn’t he?  He thinks he can have his own way in everything just because his sister is married to a lord.  I do hate to see all that meanness.’

Mark Robarts and Caleb Oriel left Silverbridge in another gig by the same road, and soon passed their brethren, as Mr Robarts was in the habit of driving a large, quick-stepping horse.  The last remarks were being made as the dust from the vicar of Framley’s wheels saluted the faces of the two slower clergymen.  Mr Oriel had promised to dine and sleep at Framley, and therefore returned in Mr Robarts’s gig.

‘Quite unnecessary, all this fuss; don’t you think so?’ said Mr Robarts.

‘I am not quite sure,’ said Mr Oriel.  ’I can understand that the bishop may have found a difficulty.’

’The bishop indeed!  The bishop doesn’t care two straws about it.  It’s Mrs Proudie!  She has put her finger on the poor man’s neck because he has not put his neck beneath her feet; and now she thinks she can crush him—­as she would crush you or me, if it were in her power.  That’s about the long and the short of the bishop’s solicitude.’

‘You are very hard on him,’ said Mr Oriel.

’I know him;—­and am not all hard on him.  She is hard upon him if you like.  Tempest is fair.  He is very fair, and as long as no one meddles with him he won’t do amiss.  I can’t hold my tongue always, but I often know that it is better that I should.’

Dr Tempest said not a word to anyone on the subject, not even in his own defence.  And yet he was sorely tempted.  On the very day of the meeting he dined at Mr Walker’s in Silverbridge, and there submitted to be talked to by all the ladies and most of the gentlemen present, without saying a word in his own defence.  And yet a word or two would have been so easy and so conclusive.