, I promised Mr. Slope to speak to
the archbishop. Mr. Slope spoke to me about it. It is very arrogant
of him, I must say--but that is nothing to me."

"Arrogant!" said Mrs. Proudie; "it is the most impudent piece of
pretension I ever heard of in my life. Mr. Slope Dean of Barchester,
indeed! And what did you do in the matter, Bishop?"

"Why, my dear, I did speak to the archbishop."

"You don't mean to tell me," said Mrs. Proudie, "that you are
going to make yourself ridiculous by lending your name to such a
preposterous attempt as this? Mr. Slope Dean of Barchester, indeed!"
And she tossed her head and put her arms akimbo with an air of
confident defiance that made her husband quite sure that Mr. Slope
never would be Dean of Barchester. In truth, Mrs. Proudie was all
but invincible; had she married Petruchio, it may be doubted whether
that arch wife-tamer would have been able to keep her legs out of
those garments which are presumed by men to be peculiarly unfitted
for feminine use.

"It is preposterous, my dear."

"Then why have you endeavoured to assist him?"

"Why--my dear, I haven't assisted him--much."

"But why have you done it at all? Why have you mixed your name up in
anything so ridiculous? What was it you did say to the archbishop?"

"Why, I just did mention it; I just did say that--that in the event
of the poor dean's death, Mr. Slope would--would--"

"Would what?"

"I forget how I put it--would take it if he could get it; something
of that sort. I didn't say much more than that."

"You shouldn't have said anything at all. And what did the
archbishop say?"

"He didn't say anything; he just bowed and rubbed his hands. Somebody
else came up at the moment, and as we were discussing the new
parochial universal school committee, the matter of the new dean
dropped; after that I didn't think it wise to renew it."

"Renew it! I am very sorry you ever mentioned it. What will the
archbishop think of you?"

"You may be sure, my dear, the archbishop thought very little about
it."

"But why did you think about it, Bishop? How could you think of
making such a creature as that Dean of Barchester? Dean of Barchester!
I suppose he'll be looking for a bishopric some of these days--a man
that hardly knows who his own father was; a man that I found without
bread to his mouth or a coat to his back. Dean of Barchester, indeed!
I'll dean him."

Mrs. Proudie considered herself to be in politics a pure Whig; al