ly the archdeacon had not been
successful in his resolutions, and on the present occasion Mrs.
Clantantram stuck to him till the banquet was over.

Dr. Gwynne got a baronet's wife, and Mrs. Grantly fell to the lot
of a baronet. Charlotte Stanhope attached herself to Mr. Harding in
order to make room for Bertie, who succeeded in sitting down in the
dining-room next to Mrs. Bold. To speak sooth, now that he had love
in earnest to make, his heart almost failed him.

Eleanor had been right glad to avail herself of his arm, seeing that
Mr. Slope was hovering nigh her. In striving to avoid that terrible
Charybdis of a Slope she was in great danger of falling into an
unseen Scylla on the other hand, that Scylla being Bertie Stanhope.
Nothing could be more gracious than she was to Bertie. She almost
jumped at his proffered arm. Charlotte perceived this from a distance
and triumphed in her heart; Bertie felt it and was encouraged; Mr.
Slope saw it and glowered with jealousy. Eleanor and Bertie sat down
to table in the dining-room, and as she took her seat at his right
hand she found that Mr. Slope was already in possession of the chair
at her own.

As these things were going on in the dining-room, Mr. Arabin was
hanging enraptured and alone over the signora's sofa, and Eleanor
from her seat could look through the open door and see that he was
doing so.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

The Bishop Sits Down to Breakfast, and the Dean Dies

The Bishop of Barchester said grace over the well-spread board in the
Ullathorne dining-room; while he did so, the last breath was flying
from the Dean of Barchester as he lay in his sick room in the deanery.
When the Bishop of Barchester raised his first glass of champagne to
his lips, the deanship of Barchester was a good thing in the gift
of the prime minister. Before the Bishop of Barchester had left the
table, the minister of the day was made aware of the fact at his
country-seat in Hampshire, and had already turned over in his mind the
names of five very respectable aspirants for the preferment. It is at
present only necessary to say that Mr. Slope's name was not among the
five.

"'Twas merry in the hall when the beards wagged all," and the clerical
beards wagged merrily in the hall of Ullathorne that day. It was
not till after the last cork had been drawn, the last speech made,
the last nut cracked, that tidings reached and were whispered about
that the poor dean was no more. It was we