times of sadness. He began playing some slow tune upon an imaginary
violoncello, drawing one hand slowly backwards and forwards as though
he held a bow in it, and modulating the unreal chords with the other.
"She'll marry that man as sure as two and two make four," said the
practical archdeacon.
"I hope not, I hope not," said the father. "But if she does, what
can I say to her? I have no right to object to him."
"No right!" exclaimed Dr. Grantly.
"No right as her father. He is in my own profession and, for aught
we know, a good man."
To this the archdeacon would by no means assent. It was not well,
however, to argue the case against Eleanor in her own drawing-room,
and so they both walked forth and discussed the matter in all its
bearings under the elm-trees of the close. Mr. Harding also explained
to his son-in-law what had been the purport, at any rate the alleged
purport, of Mr. Slope's last visit to the widow. He, however, stated
that he could not bring himself to believe that Mr. Slope had any real
anxiety such as that he had pretended. "I cannot forget his demeanour
to myself," said Mr. Harding, "and it is not possible that his ideas
should have changed so soon."
"I see it all," said the archdeacon. "The sly _tartuffe_! He thinks
to buy the daughter by providing for the father. He means to show how
powerful he is, how good he is, and how much he is willing to do for
her _beaux yeux_; yes, I see it all now. But we'll be too many for him
yet, Mr. Harding;" he said, turning to his companion with some gravity
and pressing his hand upon the other's arm. "It would, perhaps, be
better for you to lose the hospital than get it on such terms."
"Lose it!" said Mr. Harding; "why I've lost it already. I don't want
it. I've made up my mind to do without it. I'll withdraw altogether.
I'll just go and write a line to the bishop and tell him that I
withdraw my claim altogether."
Nothing would have pleased him better than to be allowed to escape
from the trouble and difficulty in such a manner. But he was now
going too fast for the archdeacon.
"No--no--no! We'll do no such thing," said Dr. Grantly. "We'll still
have the hospital. I hardly doubt but that we'll have it. But not by
Mr. Slope's assistance. If that be necessary, we'll lose it; but we'll
have it, spite of his teeth, if we can. Arabin will be at Plumstead
to-morrow; you must come over and talk to him."
The two now turned into the cathedral library, w
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