he cushion and head of it, was spread a
crimson silk mantle or shawl, which went under her whole body and
concealed her feet. Dressed as she was and looking as she did, so
beautiful and yet so motionless, with the pure brilliancy of her
white dress brought out and strengthened by the colour beneath it,
with that lovely head, and those large, bold, bright, staring eyes,
it was impossible that either man or woman should do other than look
at her.

Neither man nor woman for some minutes did do other.

Her bearers too were worthy of note. The three servants were Italian,
and though perhaps not peculiar in their own country, were very much
so in the palace at Barchester. The man especially attracted notice
and created a doubt in the mind of some whether he were a friend or
a domestic. The same doubt was felt as to Ethelbert. The man was
attired in a loose-fitting, common, black-cloth morning-coat. He
had a jaunty, fat, well-pleased, clean face on which no atom of
beard appeared, and he wore round his neck a loose, black silk
neck-handkerchief. The bishop essayed to make him a bow, but the man,
who was well trained, took no notice of him and walked out of the
room quite at his ease, followed by the woman and the boy.

Ethelbert Stanhope was dressed in light blue from head to foot. He
had on the loosest possible blue coat, cut square like a shooting
coat, and very short. It was lined with silk of azure blue. He
had on a blue satin waistcoat, a blue neck-handkerchief which was
fastened beneath his throat with a coral ring, and very loose blue
trousers which almost concealed his feet. His soft, glossy beard was
softer and more glossy than ever.

The bishop, who had made one mistake, thought that he also was a
servant and therefore tried to make way for him to pass. But
Ethelbert soon corrected the error.

CHAPTER XI

Mrs. Proudie's Reception--Concluded

"Bishop of Barchester, I presume?" said Bertie Stanhope, putting out
his hand frankly; "I am delighted to make your acquaintance. We are
in rather close quarters here, a'nt we?"

In truth they were. They had been crowded up behind the head of the
sofa--the bishop in waiting to receive his guest, and the other in
carrying her--and they now had hardly room to move themselves.

The bishop gave his hand quickly, made his little studied bow, and
was delighted to make--He couldn't go on, for he did not know whether
his friend was a signor, or a count or a prince.