in at the cathedral library, and an officious little
vicar choral had offered to go and see whether he could be found at
Dr. Stanhope's. Rumour, when she has contrived to sound the first
note on her trumpet, soon makes a loud peal audible enough. It was
too clear that Mr. Arabin had succumbed to the Italian woman, and
that the archdeacon's credit would suffer fearfully if something were
not done to rescue the brand from the burning. Besides, to give the
archdeacon his due, he was really attached to Mr. Arabin, and grieved
greatly at his backsliding.

They were sitting, talking over their sorrows, in the drawing-room
before dinner on the day after Mr. Slope's departure for London, and
on this occasion Mrs. Grantly spoke out her mind freely. She had
opinions of her own about parish clergymen, and now thought it right
to give vent to them.

"If you would have been led by me, Archdeacon, you would never have
put a bachelor into St. Ewold's."

"But my dear, you don't meant to say that all bachelor clergymen
misbehave themselves."

"I don't know that clergymen are so much better than other men,"
said Mrs. Grantly. "It's all very well with a curate, whom you have
under your own eye and whom you can get rid of if he persists in
improprieties."

"But Mr. Arabin was a fellow, and couldn't have had a wife."

"Then I would have found someone who could."

"But, my dear, are fellows never to get livings?"

"Yes, to be sure they are, when they get engaged. I never would put
a young man into a living unless he were married, or engaged to be
married. Now, here is Mr. Arabin. The whole responsibility lies upon
you."

"There is not at this moment a clergymen in all Oxford more respected
for morals and conduct than Arabin."

"Oh, Oxford!" said the lady, with a sneer. "What men choose to do at
Oxford nobody ever hears of. A man may do very well at Oxford who
would bring disgrace on a parish; and to tell you the truth, it seems
to me that Mr. Arabin is just such a man."

The archdeacon groaned deeply, but he had no further answer to make.

"You really must speak to him, Archdeacon. Only think what the Thornes
will say if they hear that their parish clergyman spends his whole
time philandering with this woman."

The archdeacon groaned again. He was a courageous man, and knew well
enough how to rebuke the younger clergymen of the diocese, when
necessary. But there was that about Mr. Arabin which made the doctor
feel that it w