after her death.  ’I shall never, never rest in my grave,’ she had once said to the archdeacon, ’while that woman sits in your father’s palace.’  For the archdeacon’s father had been Bishop of Barchester before Dr Proudie.  What mode of getting rid of the bishop or his wife Lady Lufton proposed to herself, I am unable to say; but I think she lived in hopes that in some way it might be done.  If only the bishop could have been found to have stolen a cheque for twenty pounds instead of poor Mr Crawley, Lady Lufton would, I think, have been satisfied.

In the course of these battles Framley Court would sometimes assume a clerical aspect—­having a prevailing hue, as it were, of black coats, which was not altogether to the taste of Lord Lufton, and as to which he would make complaint to his wife, and to Mark Robarts, himself a clergyman.  ‘There’s more of this than I can stand,’ he’d say to the latter.  ‘There’s deuced more of it than you like yourself, I know.’

’It’s not for me to like or dislike.  It’s a great thing having your mother in the parish.’

’That’s all very well; and of course she’ll do as she likes.  She may ask whom she pleases here, and I shan’t interfere.  It’s the same as though it was her own house.  But I shall take Lucy to Lufton.’  Now Lord Lufton had been building his house at Lufton for the last seven years and it was not yet finished—­or nearly finished, if all that his wife had said were true.  And if they could have their way, it never would be finished.  And so, in order that Lord Lufton might not actually be driven away by the turmoils of ecclesiastical contest, the younger Lady Lufton would endeavour to moderate both the wrath and the zeal of the elder one, and would struggle against the coming clergymen.  On this day, however, three sat at the board at Framley, and Lady Lufton, in her justification to her son, swore that the invitation had been given by her daughter-in-law.  ‘You know, my dear,’ the dowager said to Lord Lufton, ’something must be done for these poor Crawleys; and as the dean is away, Lucy wants to speak to the archdeacon about them.’

’And the archdeacon could not subscribe his ten-pound note without having Champion to back him?’

‘My dear Ludovic, you do put it in such a way.’

’Never mind, mother.  I’ve no special dislike for Champion, only as you are not paid five thousand pound a year for your trouble, it is rather hard that you should have to do all the work of opposition bishop in the diocese.’

It was felt by them all—­including Lord Lufton himself, who became so interested in the matter as to forgive the black coats before the evening was over—­that this matter of Mr Crawley’s committal was very serious, and demanded the full energies of their party.  It was known to them all that the feeling at the palace was inimical to Mr Crawley.  ’That she-Beelzebub hates him for his poverty, and because Arabin brought him into the diocese,’ said the archdeacon, permitting himself to use very strong language in his allusion to the bishop’s wife.  It must be recorded on his behalf that he used the phrase in the presence only of the gentlemen of the party.  I think he might have whispered the word in the ear of his confidential friend old Lady Lufton, and perhaps have given no offence; but he would not have ventured to use such words aloud in the presence of ladies.