on this
occasion loudly regretted her absence. "You must tell her, Dr. Thorne,
how exceedingly much we miss her." Dr. Thorne, who was accustomed
to hear his wife speak of her dear friend Mrs. Proudie with almost
unmeasured ridicule, promised that he would do so. "We are sorry the
Lufton's couldn't come to us," said Mrs. Proudie,--not alluding to
the dowager, of whom it was well known that no earthly inducement
would have sufficed to make her put her foot within Mrs. Proudie's
room;--"but one of the children is ill, and she could not leave
him." But the Greshams were there from Boxall Hill, and the Thornes
from Ullathorne, and, with the exception of a single chaplain, who
pretended to carve, Dr. Tempest and the archdeacon were the only
clerical guests at the table. From all which Dr. Tempest knew that the
bishop was anxious to treat him with special consideration on the
present occasion.

The dinner was rather long and ponderous, and occasionally almost
dull. The archdeacon talked a good deal, but a bystander with an
acute ear might have understood from the tone of his voice that he
was not talking as he would have talked among friends. Mrs. Proudie
felt this, and understood it, and was angry. She could never find
herself in the presence of the archdeacon without becoming angry.
Her accurate ear would always appreciate the defiance of episcopal
authority, as now existing in Barchester, which was concealed, or
only half concealed, by all the archdeacon's words. But the bishop
was not so keen, nor so easily roused to wrath; and though the
presence of his enemy did to a certain degree cow him, he strove to
fight against the feeling with renewed good-humour.

"You have improved so upon the old days," said the archdeacon,
speaking of some small matter with reference to the cathedral, "that
one hardly knows the old place."

"I hope we have not fallen off," said the bishop, with a smile.

"We have improved, Dr. Grantly," said Mrs. Proudie, with great emphasis
on her words. "What you say is true. We have improved."

"Not a doubt about that," said the archdeacon. Then Mrs. Grantly
interposed, strove to change the subject, and threw oil upon the
waters.

"Talking of improvements," said Mrs. Grantly, "what an excellent row
of houses they have built at the bottom of High Street. I wonder who
is to live in them?"

"I remember when that was the very worst part of the town," said Dr
Thorne.

"And now they're asking seventy