‘My dear,’ she said, ’here is Mr Crawley’s letter.  I suppose you have read it.’

‘Yes,’ said the bishop; ‘I have read it.’

‘And what will you do about it?  Something must be done.’

‘I don’t know,’ said he.  He did not even look at her as he spoke.  He had not turned his eyes upon her since she had entered the room.

’But, bishop, it is a letter that requires to be acted upon at once.  We cannot doubt that the man is doing right at last.  He is submitting himself where his submission is due; but his submission will be of no avail unless you take some action upon his letter.  Do you not think that Mr Thumble had better go over?’

‘No, I don’t.  I think Mr Thumble had better stay where he is,’ said the irritated bishop.

‘What, then, would you wish to be done?’

‘Never mind,’ said he.

‘But, bishop, that is nonsense,’ said Mrs Proudie, adding something of severity to the tone of her voice.

‘No, it isn’t nonsense,’ said he.  Still he did not look at her, nor had he done so for a moment since she had entered the room.  Mrs Proudie could not bear this, and her anger became stronger within her breast, she told herself that she would be wrong to bear it.  She had tried what gentleness would do, and she had failed.  It was now imperatively necessary that she should resort to sterner measures.  She must make him understand that he must give her authority to send Mr Thumble to Hogglestock.

‘Why do you not turn round and speak to me properly?’ she said.

‘I do not want to speak to you at all,’ the bishop answered.

This was very bad;—­almost anything would be better than this.  He was sitting now over the fire, with his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands.  She had gone round the room so as to face him, and was now standing almost over him, but still she could not see his countenance.  ‘This will not do at all,’ she said.  ’My dear, do you know that you are forgetting yourself altogether?’

‘I wish I could forget myself.’

’That might be all very well if you were in a position in which you owed no service to anyone; or, rather, it would not be well then, but the evil would not be so manifest.  You cannot do your duty in the diocese if you continue to sit there doing nothing, with your head upon your hands.  Why do you not rally, and get to your work like a man?’

‘I wish you would go away and leave me,’ he said.

’No, bishop.  I will not go away and leave you.  You have brought yourself into such a condition that it is my duty as your wife to stay by you; and if you neglect your duty, I will not neglect mine.’

‘It was you that brought me to it.’

‘No sir, that is not true.  I did not bring you to it.’

‘It is the truth.’  And now he got up and looked at her.  For a moment he stood upon his legs, and then sat down again with his face turned towards her.  ’It is the truth.  You have brought on me such disgrace that I cannot hold up my head.  You have ruined me.  I wish I were dead; and it is all through you that I am driven to wish it.’