Barchester, Mrs. Proudie had
thrown down her gauntlet to him, and he had not been slow in picking
it up. The war had been internecine, and each had given the other
terrible wounds. It had been understood that there should be no
quarter, and there had been none. His enemy was now dead, and the
archdeacon could not bring himself to adopt before his wife the
namby-pamby everyday decency of speaking well of one of whom he
had ever thought ill, or of expressing regret when no regret could
be felt. "May all her sins be forgiven her," said Mrs. Grantly.
"Amen," said the archdeacon. There was something in the tone of
his Amen which thoroughly implied that it was uttered only on the
understanding that her departure from the existing world was to be
regarded as an unmitigated good, and that she should, at any rate,
never come back again to Barchester.

When Lady Lufton heard the tidings, she was not so bold in speaking
of it as was her friend the archdeacon. "Mrs. Proudie dead!" she
said to her daughter-in-law. This was some hours after the news had
reached the house, and when the fact of the poor lady's death had
been fully recognised. "What will he do without her?"

"The same as other men do," said the young Lady Lufton.

"But, my dear, he is not the same as other men. He is not at all like
other men. He is so weak that he cannot walk without a stick to lean
upon. No doubt she was a virago, a woman who could not control her
temper for a moment! No doubt she had led him a terrible life! I have
often pitied him with all my heart. But, nevertheless, she was useful
to him. I suppose she was useful to him. I can hardly believe that
Mrs. Proudie is dead. Had he gone, it would have seemed so much more
natural. Poor woman. I daresay she had her good points." The reader
will be pleased to remember that the Luftons had ever been strong
partisans on the side of the Grantlys.

The news made its way even to Hogglestock on the same day. Mrs
Crawley, when she heard it, went out after her husband, who was in
the school. "Dead!" said he, in answer to her whisper. "Do you tell
me that the woman is dead?" Then Mrs. Crawley explained that the
tidings were credible. "May God forgive her all her sins," said Mr
Crawley. "She was a violent woman, certainly, and I think that she
misunderstood her duties; but I do not say that she was a bad woman.
I am inclined to think that she was earnest in her endeavours to do
good." It never occurred to Mr. C