elf, and determined
to lose no time in retrieving his character, so damaged in his own
eyes.

Thus when he appeared at dinner he was as animated as ever and was
the author of most of the conversation which graced the archdeacon's
board on that evening. Mr. Harding was ill at ease and sick at heart,
and did not care to appear more comfortable than he really was; what
little he did say was said to his daughter. He thought that the
archdeacon and Mr. Arabin had leagued together against Eleanor's
comfort, and his wish now was to break away from the pair and undergo
in his Barchester lodgings whatever Fate had in store for him. He
hated the name of the hospital; his attempt to regain his lost
inheritance there had brought upon him so much suffering. As far as
he was concerned, Mr. Quiverful was now welcome to the place.

And the archdeacon was not very lively. The poor dean's illness was
of course discussed in the first place. Dr. Grantly did not mention
Mr. Slope's name in connexion with the expected event of Dr. Trefoil's
death; he did not wish to say anything about Mr. Slope just at
present, nor did he wish to make known his sad surmises; but the idea
that his enemy might possibly become Dean of Barchester made him very
gloomy. Should such an event take place, such a dire catastrophe
come about, there would be an end to his life as far as his life was
connected with the city of Barchester. He must give up all his old
haunts, all his old habits, and live quietly as a retired rector at
Plumstead. It had been a severe trial for him to have Dr. Proudie in
the palace, but with Mr. Slope also in the deanery he felt that he
should be unable to draw his breath in Barchester close.

Thus it came to pass that in spite of the sorrow at his heart, Mr.
Arabin was apparently the gayest of the party. Both Mr. Harding and
Mrs. Grantly were in a slight degree angry with him on account of his
want of gloom. To the one it appeared as though he were triumphing
at Eleanor's banishment, and to the other that he was not affected as
he should have been by all the sad circumstances of the day--Eleanor's
obstinacy, Mr. Slope's success, and the poor dean's apoplexy. And so
they were all at cross-purposes.

Mr. Harding left the room almost together with the ladies, and then
the archdeacon opened his heart to Mr. Arabin. He still harped upon
the hospital. "What did that fellow mean," said he, "by saying in
his letter to Mrs. Bold that if Mr. Har