The bishop had hardly finished his letter when Mrs Proudie returned to the study, followed by the Rev Caleb Thumble.  Mr Thumble was a little man, about forty years of age, who had a wife and children living in Barchester, and who existed on such chance clerical crumbs as might fall from the table of the bishop’s patronage.  People in Barchester said that Mrs Thumble was a cousin of Mrs Proudie’s; but as Mrs Proudie stoutly denied the connexion, it may be supposed that the people of Barchester were wrong.  And, had Mr Thumble’s wife in truth been a cousin, Mrs Proudie would surely have provided for him during the many years in which the diocese had been in her hands.  No such provision had been made, and Mr Thumble, who had not been living in the diocese for three years, had received nothing else from the bishop than such chance employment as this which he was about to undertake at Hogglestock.  He was a humble, mild-voiced man, when within the palace precincts, and had so far succeeded in making his way among his brethren in the cathedral city as to be employed not unfrequently for absent minor canons in chanting the week-day services, being remunerated for his work at the rate of about two shillings and sixpence a service.

The bishop handed the letter to his wife, observing in an off-hand kind of way that she might as well see what he said.  ’Of course I shall read it,’ said Mrs Proudie.  And the bishop winced, visibly, because Mr Thumble was present.  ‘Quite right,’ said Mrs Proudie, ’quite right to let him know that you knew he had been arrested—­actually arrested by the police.’

‘I thought it proper to mention that, because of the scandal,’ said the bishop.

‘Oh, it has been terrible in the city,’ said Mr Thumble.

‘Never mind, Mr Thumble,’ said Mrs Proudie.  ’Never mind that at present.’  Then she continued to read the letter.  ’What’s this?  Confession!  That must come out, bishop.  It will never do that you should recommend confession to anybody, under any circumstances.’

‘But, my dea—­’

‘It must come out, bishop.’

‘My lord has not meant auricular confession,’ suggested Mr Thumble.  Then Mrs Proudie turned around and looked at Mr Thumble, and Mr Thumble nearly sank amidst the tables and chairs.  ’I beg your pardon, Mrs Proudie,’ he said, ‘I didn’t mean to intrude.’

‘The word must come out, bishop,’ repeated Mrs Proudie.  ’There should be no stumbling blocks prepared for feet that are only too ready to fall.’  And the word did come out.

‘Now, Mr Thumble,’ said the lady, as she gave the letter to her satellite, ’the bishop and I wish you to be at Hogglestock early tomorrow.  You should be there not later than ten, certainly.’  Then she paused until Mr Thumble had given the required promise.  ’And we request that you will be very firm in the mission which is confided to you, a mission which, as of course, you see, is of a very delicate and important nature.  You must be firm.’