will see a great deal of the Duke of Omnium now."
But Mrs. Grantly was not a woman to be knocked down and trampled
on without resistance; and though she had been lacerated by the
rose-bush she was not as yet placed altogether _hors de combat_. She
said some word about the Duke of Omnium very tranquilly, speaking
of him merely as a Barsetshire proprietor, and then, smiling with
her sweetest smile, expressed a hope that she might soon have the
pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr. Tickler; and as she spoke
she made a pretty little bow towards Olivia Proudie. Now Mr. Tickler
was the worthy clergyman attached to the district church at Bethnal
Green.

"He'll be down here in August," said Olivia, boldly, determined not
to be shamefaced about her love affairs.

"You'll be starring it about the Continent by that time, my dear,"
said Mrs. Proudie to Griselda. "Lord Dumbello is well known at
Homburg and Ems, and places of that sort; so you will find yourself
quite at home."

"We are going to Rome," said Griselda, majestically.

"I suppose Mr. Tickler will come into the diocese soon," said Mrs.
Grantly. "I remember hearing him very favourably spoken of by Mr.
Slope, who was a friend of his." Nothing short of a fixed resolve on
the part of Mrs. Grantly that the time had now come in which she must
throw away her shield and stand behind her sword, declare war to the
knife, and neither give nor take quarter, could have justified such
a speech as this. Any allusion to Mr. Slope acted on Mrs. Proudie
as a red cloth is supposed to act on a bull; but when that allusion
connected the name of Mr. Slope in a friendly bracket with that of
Mrs. Proudie's future son-in-law it might be certain that the effect
would be terrific. And there was more than this: for that very Mr.
Slope had once entertained audacious hopes--hopes not thought to be
audacious by the young lady herself--with reference to Miss Olivia
Proudie. All this Mrs. Grantly knew, and, knowing it, still dared to
mention his name.

The countenance of Mrs. Proudie became darkened with black anger,
and the polished smile of her company manners gave place before
the outraged feelings of her nature. "The man you speak of, Mrs.
Grantly," said she, "was never known as a friend by Mr. Tickler."

"Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Grantly. "Perhaps I have made a mistake. I am
sure I have heard Mr. Slope mention him."

"When Mr. Slope was running after your sister, Mrs. Grantly, and was
enc