the man who was occupying
the desk.

Then came the sermon, preached very often before, lasting exactly
half-an-hour, and then Mr. Thumble's work was done. Itinerant
clergymen, who preach now here and now there, as it had been the lot
of Mr. Thumble to do, have at any rate this belief,--that they can
preach their sermons often. From the communion-table Mr. Thumble had
stated that, in the present peculiar circumstances of the parish,
there would be no second service at Hogglestock for the present; and
this was all he said or did peculiar to the occasion. The moment
the service was over he got into his gig, and was driven back to
Barchester.

"Mamma," said Jane, as they sat at their dinner, "such a sermon I am
sure was never heard in Hogglestock before. Indeed, you can hardly
call it a sermon. It was downright nonsense."

"My dear," said Mr. Crawley energetically, "keep your criticisms for
matters that are profane; then, though they be childish and silly,
they may at least be innocent. Be critical on Euripides, if you must
be critical." But when Jane kissed her father after dinner, she,
knowing his humour well, felt assured that her remarks had not been
taken altogether in ill part.

Mr. Thumble was neither seen nor heard of again in the parish during
the entire week.

CHAPTER LXX

Mrs. Arabin Is Caught

[Illustration]

One morning about the middle of April Mr. Toogood received a telegram
from Venice which caused him instantly to leave his business in
Bedford Row and take the first train for Silverbridge. "It seems
to me that this job will be a deal of time and very little money,"
said his partner to him, when Toogood on the spur of the moment was
making arrangements for his sudden departure and uncertain period
of absence. "That's about it," said Toogood. "A deal of time, some
expense, and no returns. It is not the kind of business a man can
live upon, is it?" The partner growled, and Toogood went. But we must
go with Mr. Toogood down to Silverbridge, and as we cannot make the
journey in this chapter, we will just indicate his departure and then
go back to John Eames, who, as will be remembered, was just starting
for Florence when we last saw him.

Our dear old friend Johnny had been rather proud of himself as he
started from London. He had gotten an absolute victory over Sir
Raffle Buffle, and that alone was gratifying to his feelings. He
liked the excitement of a journey, and especially of a journ