ow he got there. "That, my lord, is a matter of no
moment," said he. "I am glad at any rate that I have been enabled to
obey your lordship's order in coming hither on this morning."

Hitherto Mrs. Proudie had not said a word. She stood back in the room,
near the fire,--more backward a good deal than she was accustomed to
do when clergymen made their ordinary visits. On such occasions she
would come forward and shake hands with them graciously,--graciously,
even if proudly; but she had felt that she must do nothing of that
kind now; there must be no shaking hands with a man who had stolen
a cheque for twenty pounds! It might probably be necessary to keep
Mr. Crawley at a distance, and therefore she had remained in the
background. But Mr. Crawley seemed to be disposed to keep himself in
the background, and therefore she could speak. "I hope your wife and
children are well, Mr. Crawley," she said.

"Thank you, madam, my children are well, and Mrs. Crawley suffers no
special ailment at present."

"That is much to be thankful for, Mr. Crawley." Whether he were or
were not thankful for such mercies as these was no business of the
bishop or of the bishop's wife. That was between him and his God. So
he would not even bow to this civility, but sat with his head erect,
and with a great frown on his heavy brow.

Then the bishop rose from his chair to speak, intending to take up
a position on the rug. But as he did so Mr. Crawley, who had seated
himself on an intimation that he was expected to sit down, rose also,
and the bishop found that he would thus lose his expected vantage.
"Will you not be seated, Mr. Crawley?" said the bishop. Mr. Crawley
smiled, but stood his ground. Then the bishop returned to his
arm-chair, and Mr. Crawley also sat down again. "Mr. Crawley," began
the bishop, "this matter which came the other day before the
magistrates at Silverbridge has been a most unfortunate affair. It
has given me, I can assure you, the most sincere pain."

Mr. Crawley had made up his mind how far the bishop should be allowed
to go without a rebuke. He had told himself that it would only be
natural, and would not be unbecoming, that the bishop should allude
to the meeting of the magistrates and to the alleged theft, and that
therefore such allusions should be endured with patient humility.
And, moreover, the more rope he gave the bishop, the more likely the
bishop would be to entangle himself. It certainly was Mr. Crawley's
wi