," said Mr. Arabin, whereupon Mr.
Slope smiled abominably and said, as plainly as a look could speak,
that the grapes were sour.

"Going over all our heads," continued the signora, "for of course I
consider myself one of the chapter."

"If I am ever dean," said Mr. Slope, "that is, were I ever to become
so, I should glory in such a canoness."

"Oh, Mr. Slope, stop; I haven't half done. There is another canoness
for you to glory in. Mr. Slope is not only to have the deanery but a
wife to put in it."

Mr. Slope again looked disconcerted.

"A wife with a large fortune, too. It never rains but it pours, does
it, Mr. Thorne?"

"No, never," said Mr. Thorne, who did not quite relish talking about
Mr. Slope and his affairs.

"When will it be, Mr. Slope?"

"When will what be?" said he.

"Oh, we know when the affair of the dean will be: a week will settle
that. The new hat, I have no doubt, has been already ordered. But when
will the marriage come off?"

"Do you mean mine or Mr. Arabin's?" said he, striving to be facetious.

"Well, just then I meant yours, though, perhaps, after all, Mr.
Arabin's may be first. But we know nothing of him. He is too close
for any of us. Now all is open and above board with you--which, by
the by, Mr. Arabin, I beg to tell you I like much the best. He who
runs can read that Mr. Slope is a favoured lover. Come, Mr. Slope,
when is the widow to be made Mrs. Dean?"

To Mr. Arabin this badinage was peculiarly painful, and yet he could
not tear himself away and leave it. He believed, still believed with
that sort of belief which the fear of a thing engenders, that Mrs.
Bold would probably become the wife of Mr. Slope. Of Mr. Slope's
little adventure in the garden he knew nothing. For aught he knew,
Mr. Slope might have had an adventure of quite a different character.
He might have thrown himself at the widow's feet, been accepted, and
then returned to town a jolly, thriving wooer. The signora's jokes
were bitter enough to Mr. Slope, but they were quite as bitter to Mr.
Arabin. He still stood leaning against the fire-place, fumbling with
his hands in his trousers pockets.

"Come, come, Mr. Slope, don't be so bashful," continued the signora.
"We all know that you proposed to the lady the other day at
Ullathorne. Tell us with what words she accepted you. Was it with a
simple 'yes,' or with the two 'no no's' which make an affirmative?
Or did silence give consent? Or did she speak out with tha