It may be as well to explain here that the unfortunate Mr Snapper was constrained to go out to Hogglestock on the Sunday which was now approaching—which fell out as follows. It might be all very well for Mr Toogood to arrange that he would not tell this person or that person of the news which he had brought down from London; but as he had told the police at Barchester, of course the tale found its way to the palace. Mr Thumble heard it, and having come by this time thoroughly to hate Hogglestock and all that belonged to it, he pleaded to Mr Snapper that this report offered ample reason why he need not again visit that detested parish. Mr Snapper did not see it in the same light. ’You may be sure Mr Crawley will not get into the pulpit after his resignation, Mr Thumble.’
‘His resignation means nothing,’ said Thumble.
‘It means a great deal,’ said Snapper; ’and the duties must be provided for.’
‘I won’t provide for them,’ said Thumble; ’and so you may tell the bishop.’ In these days Mr Thumble was very angry with the bishop, for the bishop had not yet seen him since the death of Mrs Proudie.
Mr Snapper had no alternative but to go to the bishop. The bishop in these days was very mild to those whom he saw, given but to few words, and a little astray—as though he had had one of his limbs cut off—as Mr Snapper expressed it to Mrs Snapper. ’I shouldn’t wonder if he felt as though all his limbs were cut off,’ said Mrs Snapper; ’you must give him time, and he’ll come round by-and-by.’ I am inclined to think that Mrs Snapper’s opinion of the bishop’s feelings and condition was correct. In his difficulty respecting Hogglestock and Mr Thumble, Mr Snapper went to the bishop, and spoke perhaps a little too harshly of Mr Thumble.
‘I think, upon the whole, Snapper, that you had better go yourself,’ said the bishop.
‘Do you think so, my lord?’ said Snapper. ‘It will be inconvenient.’