ese." Mr. Robarts of course declared that he did not begrudge his
trouble, and that he would do anything in his power for the poor man.
"I think that you should see him again, and that you should then see
Thumble also. I don't know whether you can condescend to be civil to
Thumble. I could not."

"I am not quite sure that incivility would not be more efficacious,"
said Mr. Robarts.

"Very likely. There are men who are deaf as adders to courtesy, but
who are compelled to obedience at once by ill-usage. Very likely
Thumble is one of them; but of that you will be the best judge
yourself. I would see Crawley first, and get his consent."

"That's the difficulty."

"Then I should go on without his consent, and I would see Thumble and
the bishop's chaplain, Snapper. I think you might manage just at this
moment, when they will all be a little abashed and perplexed by this
woman's death, to arrange that simply nothing shall be done. The
great thing will be that Crawley should go on with the duty till
the assizes. If it should happen that he goes into Barchester, is
acquitted, and comes back again, the whole thing will be over, and
there will be no further interference in the parish. If I were you,
I think I would try it." Mr. Robarts said that he would try it. "I
daresay Mr. Crawley will be a little stiff-necked with you."

"He will be very stiff-necked with me," said Mr. Robarts.

"But I can hardly think that he will throw away the only means he has
of supporting his wife and children, when he finds that there can be
no occasion for his doing so. I do not suppose that any person wishes
him to throw up his work now that the poor woman has gone."

Mr. Crawley had been almost in good spirits since the last visit which
Mr. Thumble had made him. It seemed as though the loss of everything
in the world was in some way satisfactory to him. He had now given
up his living by his own doing, and had after a fashion acknowledged
his guilt by this act. He had proclaimed to all around him that he
did not think himself to be any longer fit to perform the sacred
functions of his office. He spoke of his trial as though a verdict
against him must be the result. He knew that in going to prison he
would leave his wife and children dependent on the charity of their
friends,--on charity which they must condescend to accept, though he
could not condescend to ask it. And yet he was able to carry himself
now with a greater show of fortitude than