'Mr Slope, indeed! I'll Slope him,' said the indignant matron to her listening progeny. 'I don't know what has come to Mr Slope. I believe he thinks he is to be Bishop of Barchester himself, because I have taken him by the hand, and got your father to make him his domestic chaplain.'
'He was always full of impudence,' said Olivia; 'I told you so once before, mamma.' Olivia, however, had not thought him too impudent when once before he had proposed to make her Mrs Slope.
'Well, Olivia, I always thought you liked him,' said Augusta, who at that moment had some grudge against her sister. 'I always disliked the man because I think him thoroughly vulgar.'
'There you're wrong,' said Mrs Proudie; 'he's not vulgar at all; and what is more, he is a soul-stirring, eloquent preacher; but he must be taught to know his place if he is to remain in this house.'
'He has the horridest eyes I ever saw in a man's head,' said Netta; 'and I tell you what, he's terribly greedy; did you see the current pie he ate yesterday?'
When Mr Slope got home he soon learnt from the bishop, as much from his manner as his words, that Mrs Proudie's behests in the matter of the hospital were to be obeyed. Dr Proudie let fall something as to 'this occasion only,' and 'keeping all affairs about patronage exclusively in his own hands.' But he was quite decided about Mr Harding; and as Mr Slope did not wish to have both the prelate and the prelatess against him, he did not at present see that he could do anything but yield.
He merely remarked that he would of course carry out the bishop's views, and that he was quite sure that if the bishop trusted to his own judgment things in the diocese would certainly be well ordered. Mr Slope knew that if you hit a nail on the head often enough, it will penetrate at last.
He was sitting alone in his room on the same evening when a light knock was made on his door, and before he could answer it the door was opened, and his patroness appeared. He was all smiles in a moment, but so was not she also. She took, however, the chair that was offered to her, and thus began her expostulation :-
'Mr Slope, I did not at all approve your conduct the other night with that Italian woman. Any one would have thought that you were her lover.'
'Good gracious, my dear madam,' said Mr Slope, with a look of horror. 'Why, she is a married woman.'