locomotion for its inhabitants but that which nature has assigned
to man.

Mrs. Quiverful was a broad, heavy woman, not young, nor given to
walking. In her kitchen, and in the family dormitories, she was
active enough, but her pace and gait were not adapted for the road.
A walk into Barchester and back in the middle of an August day would
be to her a terrible task, if not altogether impracticable. There
was living in the parish, about half a mile from the vicarage on the
road to the city, a decent, kindly farmer, well to do as regards this
world and so far mindful of the next that he attended his parish
church with decent regularity. To him Mrs. Quiverful had before now
appealed in some of her more pressing family troubles, and had not
appealed in vain. At his door she now presented herself, and, having
explained to his wife that most urgent business required her to go at
once to Barchester, begged that Farmer Subsoil would take her thither
in his tax-cart. The farmer did not reject her plan, and, as soon as
Prince could be got into his collar, they started on their journey.

Mrs. Quiverful did not mention the purpose of her business, nor did
the farmer alloy his kindness by any unseemly questions. She merely
begged to be put down at the bridge going into the city and to be
taken up again at the same place in the course of two hours. The
farmer promised to be punctual to his appointment, and the lady,
supported by her umbrella, took the short cut to the close and, in
a few minutes, was at the bishop's door.

Hitherto she had felt no dread with regard to the coming interview.
She had felt nothing but an indignant longing to pour forth her
claims, and declare her wrongs, if those claims were not fully
admitted. But now the difficulty of her situation touched her a
little. She had been at the palace once before, but then she went to
give grateful thanks. Those who have thanks to return for favours
received find easy admittance to the halls of the great. Such is not
always the case with men, or even with women, who have favours to
beg. Still less easy is access for those who demand the fulfilment
of promises already made.

Mrs. Quiverful had not been slow to learn the ways of the world. She
knew all this, and she knew also that her cotton umbrella and all but
ragged shawl would not command respect in the eyes of the palatial
servants. If she were too humble, she knew well that she would never
succeed. To overcome by