must balance his gain and loss as best he might.

He slept well, but when he woke in the morning the dreariness of his
loneliness was very strong on him. He must do something, and must see
somebody, but he felt that he did not know how to bear himself in his
new position. He must send of course for his chaplain, and tell his
chaplain to open all letters and to answer them for a week. Then he
remembered how many of his letters in days of yore had been opened
and answered by the helpmate who had just gone from him. Since Dr
Tempest's visit he had insisted that the palace letter-bag should
always be brought in the first instance to him,--and this had been
done, greatly to the annoyance of his wife. In order that it might
be done the bishop had been up every morning an hour before his
usual time; and everybody in the household had known why it was
so. He thought of this now as the bag was brought to him on the
first morning of his freedom. He could have it where he pleased
now;--either in his bedroom or left for him untouched on the
breakfast-table till he should go to it. "Blessed be the name of
the Lord," he said as he thought of all this; but he did not stop
to analyse what he was saying. On this morning he would not enjoy
his liberty, but desired that the letter-bag might be taken to Mr
Snapper, the chaplain.

The news of Mrs. Proudie's death had spread all over Barchester on the
evening of its occurrence, and had been received with that feeling of
distant awe which is always accompanied by some degree of pleasurable
sensation. There was no one in Barchester to lament a mother, or
a sister, or a friend who was really loved. There were those,
doubtless, who regretted the woman's death,--and even some who
regretted it without any feeling of personal damage done to
themselves. There had come to be around Mrs. Proudie a party who
thought as she thought on church matters, and such people had lost
their head, and thereby their strength. And she had been staunch to
her own party, preferring bad tea from a low-church grocer, to good
tea from a grocer who went to the ritualistic church or to no church
at all. And it is due to her to say that she did not forget those who
were true to her,--looking after them mindfully where looking after
might be profitable, and fighting their battles where fighting might
be more serviceable. I do not think that the appetite for breakfast
of any man or woman in Barchester was disturbed by the