instantly, and the paean would have been sung out in the neighbouring
parishes of Eiderdown, Stogpingum, and St Ewolds. The High Street of
Barchester would have known of it, and the very bedesmen in Hiram's
Hospital would have told among themselves the terrible discomfiture
of the bishop and his lady. But Dr. Tempest spoke no word of it to
anybody. He wrote letters to the two clergymen named by the bishop,
and himself selected two others out of his own rural deanery, and
suggested to them all a day at which a preliminary meeting should be
held at his own house. The two who were invited by him were Mr. Oriel,
the rector of Greshamsbury, and Mr. Robarts, the vicar of Framley.
They all assented to the proposition, and on the day named assembled
themselves at Silverbridge.

It was now April, and the judges were to come into Barchester
before the end of the month. What then could be the use of this
ecclesiastical inquiry exactly at the same time? Men and women
declared that it was a double prosecution, and that a double
prosecution for the same offence was a course of action opposed to
the feelings and traditions of the country. Miss Anne Prettyman
went so far as to say that it was unconstitutional, and Mary Walker
declared that no human being except Mrs. Proudie would ever have been
guilty of such cruelty. "Don't tell me about the bishop, John," she
said, "the bishop is a cypher." "You may be sure Dr. Tempest would not
have a hand in it if it were not right," said John Walker. "My dear
Mr. John," said Miss Anne Prettyman, "Dr. Tempest is as hard as a bar
of iron, and always was. But I am surprised that Mr. Robarts should
take a part in it."

In the meantime, at the palace, Mrs. Proudie had been reduced to learn
what was going on from Mr. Thumble. The bishop had never spoken a word
to her respecting Mr. Crawley since that terrible day on which Dr
Tempest had witnessed his imbecility,--having absolutely declined
to answer when his wife had mentioned the subject. "You won't speak
to me about it, my dear?" she had said to him, when he had thus
declined, remonstrating more in sorrow than in anger. "No; I won't,"
the bishop had replied; "there has been a great deal too much talking
about it. It has broken my heart already, I know." These were very
bad days in the palace. Mrs. Proudie affected to be satisfied with
what was being done. She talked to Mr. Thumble about Mr. Crawley
and the cheque, as though everything were arranged