he
thought that she was thus angry, not because she was suspected of
an intention to marry Mr. Slope, but because such an intention was
imputed to her as a crime. Dr. Grantly regarded this supposed union
with disgust, but it never occurred to him that Eleanor was outraged
because she looked at it exactly in the same light.

He returned to his wife, vexed and somewhat disconsolate, but
nevertheless confirmed in his wrath against his sister-in-law. "Her
whole behaviour," said he, "has been most objectionable. She handed
me his love-letter to read as though she were proud of it. And she
is proud of it. She is proud of having this slavering, greedy man at
her feet. She will throw herself and John Bold's money into his lap;
she will ruin her boy, disgrace her father and you, and be a wretched
miserable woman."

His spouse, who was sitting at her toilet-table, continued her
avocations, making no answer to all this. She had known that the
archdeacon would gain nothing by interfering, but she was too
charitable to provoke him by saying so while he was in such deep
sorrow.

"This comes of a man making such a will as that of Bold's," he
continued. "Eleanor is no more fitted to be trusted with such an
amount of money in her own hands than is a charity-school girl."
Still Mrs. Grantly made no reply. "But I have done my duty; I can do
nothing further. I have told her plainly that she cannot be allowed to
form a link of connexion between me and that man. From henceforward
it will not be in my power to make her welcome at Plumstead. I cannot
have Mr. Slope's love-letters coming here. Susan, I think you had
better let her understand that, as her mind on this subject seems
to be irrevocably fixed, it will be better for all parties that she
should return to Barchester."

Now Mrs. Grantly was angry with Eleanor--nearly as angry as her
husband--but she had no idea of turning her sister out of the house.
She therefore at length spoke out and explained to the archdeacon in
her own mild, seducing way that he was fuming and fussing and fretting
himself very unnecessarily. She declared that things, if left alone,
would arrange themselves much better than he could arrange them, and
at last succeeded in inducing him to go to bed in a somewhat less
inhospitable state of mind.

On the following morning Eleanor's maid was commissioned to send
word into the dining-room that her mistress was not well enough to
attend prayers and that she woul