unendurable nuisance of spending
another day at the Manor House. Lady Carbury, almost lost in delight,
did not know where to turn for sympathy. If her cousin were not so
stiff, so pig-headed, so wonderfully ignorant of the affairs of the
world, he would have at any rate consented to rejoice with her. Though
he might not like Felix,--who, as his mother admitted to herself, had
been rude to her cousin,--he would have rejoiced for the sake of the
family. But, as it was, she did not dare to tell him. He would have
received her tidings with silent scorn. And even Henrietta would not
be enthusiastic. She felt that though she would have delighted to
expatiate on this great triumph, she must be silent at present. It
should now be her great effort to ingratiate herself with Mr Melmotte
at the dinner party at Caversham.

During the whole of that evening Roger Carbury hardly spoke to his
cousin Hetta. There was not much conversation between them till quite
late, when Father Barham came in for supper. He had been over at
Bungay among his people there, and had walked back, taking Carbury on
the way. 'What did you think of our bishop?' Roger asked him, rather
imprudently.

'Not much of him as a bishop. I don't doubt that he makes a very nice
lord, and that he does more good among his neighbours than an average
lord. But you don't put power or responsibility into the hands of any
one sufficient to make him a bishop.'

'Nine-tenths of the clergy in the diocese would be guided by him in
any matter of clerical conduct which might come before him.'

'Because they know that he has no strong opinion of his own, and would
not therefore desire to dominate theirs. Take any of your bishops that
has an opinion,--if there be one left,--and see how far your clergy
consent to his teaching!' Roger turned round and took up his book. He
was already becoming tired of his pet priest. He himself always
abstained from saying a word derogatory to his new friend's religion
in the man's hearing; but his new friend did not by any means return
the compliment. Perhaps also Roger felt that were he to take up the
cudgels for an argument he might be worsted in the combat, as in such
combats success is won by practised skill rather than by truth.
Henrietta was also reading, and Felix was smoking elsewhere,--wondering
whether the hours would ever wear themselves away in that castle of
dulness, in which no cards were to be seen, and where, except at
meal-times,