Part 29 (2/2)

”You will remember that I told you that Mr. Harding had refused to return to the hospital.”

Mr. Quiverful declared that nothing could be more distinct on his memory.

”And acting on this refusal, I suggested that you should take the hospital,” continued Mr. Slope.

”I understood you to say that the bishop had authorised you to offer it to me.”

”Did I? Did I go so far as that? Well, perhaps it may be that in my anxiety in your behalf I did commit myself further than I should have done. So far as my own memory serves me, I don't think I did go quite so far as that. But I own I was very anxious that you should get it, and I may have said more than was quite prudent.”

”But,” said Mr. Quiverful in his deep anxiety to prove his case, ”my wife received as distinct a promise from Mrs. Proudie as one human being could give to another.”

Mr. Slope smiled and gently shook his head. He meant the smile for a pleasant smile, but it was diabolical in the eyes of the man he was speaking to. ”Mrs. Proudie!” he said. ”If we are to go to what pa.s.ses between the ladies in these matters, we shall really be in a nest of troubles from which we shall never extricate ourselves.

Mrs. Proudie is a most excellent lady, kind-hearted, charitable, pious, and in every way estimable. But, my dear Mr. Quiverful, the patronage of the diocese is not in her hands.”

Mr. Quiverful for a moment sat panic-stricken and silent. ”Am I to understand, then, that I have received no promise?” he said as soon as he had sufficiently collected his thoughts.

”If you will allow me, I will tell you exactly how the matter rests.

You certainly did receive a promise conditional on Mr. Harding's refusal. I am sure you will do me the justice to remember that you yourself declared that you could accept the appointment on no other condition than the knowledge that Mr. Harding had declined it.”

”Yes,” said Mr. Quiverful; ”I did say that, certainly.”

”Well, it now appears that he did not refuse it.”

”But surely you told me, and repeated it more than once, that he had done so in your own hearing.”

”So I understood him. But it seems I was in error. But don't for a moment, Mr. Quiverful, suppose that I mean to throw you over. No.

Having held out my hand to a man in your position, with your large family and pressing claims, I am not now going to draw it back again.

I only want you to act with me fairly and honestly.”

”Whatever I do I shall endeavour at any rate to act fairly,” said the poor man, feeling that he had to fall back for support on the spirit of martyrdom within him.

”I am sure you will,” said the other. ”I am sure you have no wish to obtain possession of an income which belongs by all right to another.

No man knows better than you do Mr. Harding's history, or can better appreciate his character. Mr. Harding is very desirous of returning to his old position, and the bishop feels that he is at the present moment somewhat hampered, though of course he is not bound, by the conversation which took place on the matter between you and me.”

”Well,” said Mr. Quiverful, dreadfully doubtful as to what his conduct under such circ.u.mstances should be, and fruitlessly striving to harden his nerves with some of that instinct of self-preservation which made his wife so bold.

”The wardens.h.i.+p of this little hospital is not the only thing in the bishop's gift, Mr. Quiverful, nor is it by many degrees the best.

And his lords.h.i.+p is not the man to forget anyone whom he has once marked with approval. If you would allow me to advise you as a friend--”

”Indeed, I shall be most grateful to you,” said the poor vicar of Puddingdale.

”I should advise you to withdraw from any opposition to Mr. Harding's claims. If you persist in your demand, I do not think you will ultimately succeed. Mr. Harding has all but a positive right to the place. But if you will allow me to inform the bishop that you decline to stand in Mr. Harding's way, I think I may promise you--though, by the by, it must not be taken as a formal promise--that the bishop will not allow you to be a poorer man than you would have been had you become warden.”

Mr. Quiverful sat in his armchair, silent, gazing at vacancy. What was he to say? All this that came from Mr. Slope was so true. Mr.

Harding had a right to the hospital. The bishop had a great many good things to give away. Both the bishop and Mr. Slope would be excellent friends and terrible enemies to a man in his position. And then he had no proof of any promise; he could not force the bishop to appoint him.

”Well, Mr. Quiverful, what do you say about it?”

”Oh, of course, whatever you think fit, Mr. Slope. It's a great disappointment, a very great disappointment. I won't deny that I am a very poor man, Mr. Slope.”

”In the end, Mr. Quiverful, you will find that it will have been better for you.”

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