o truly delighted!" said Mrs. Grantly, getting up
and kissing her father.

"But, my dear," said Mr. Harding. It was all in vain that he strove to
speak; nobody would listen to him.

"Well, Mr. Dean," said the archdeacon, triumphing, "the deanery
gardens will be some consolation for the hospital elms. Well, poor
Quiverful! I won't begrudge him his good fortune any longer."

"No, indeed," said Mrs. Grantly. "Poor woman, she has fourteen
children. I am sure I am very glad they have got it."

"So am I," said Mr. Harding.

"I would give twenty pounds," said the archdeacon, "to see how
Mr. Slope will look when he hears it." The idea of Mr. Slope's
discomfiture formed no small part of the archdeacon's pleasure.

At last Mr. Harding was allowed to go upstairs and wash his hands,
having, in fact, said very little of all that he had come out to
Plumstead on purpose to say. Nor could anything more be said till
the servants were gone after dinner. The joy of Dr. Grantly was
so uncontrollable that he could not refrain from calling his
father-in-law Mr. Dean before the men, and therefore it was soon
matter of discussion in the lower regions how Mr. Harding, instead of
his daughter's future husband, was to be the new dean, and various
were the opinions on the matter. The cook and butler, who were
advanced in years, thought that it was just as it should be; but the
footman and lady's maid, who were younger, thought it was a great
shame that Mr. Slope should lose his chance.

"He's a mean chap all the same," said the footman, "and it an't along
of him that I says so. But I always did admire the missus's sister;
and she'd well become the situation."

While these were the ideas downstairs, a very great difference of
opinion existed above. As soon as the cloth was drawn and the wine on
the table, Mr. Harding made for himself an opportunity of speaking.
It was, however, with much inward troubling that he said:

"It's very kind of Lord ----, very kind, and I feel it deeply, most
deeply. I am, I must confess, gratified by the offer--"

"I should think so," said the archdeacon.

"But all the same I am afraid that I can't accept it."

The decanter almost fell from the archdeacon's hand upon the table,
and the start he made was so great as to make his wife jump up from
her chair. Not accept the deanship! If it really ended in this, there
would be no longer any doubt that his father-in-law was demented. The
question now was whether