This was, in fact, not true, and was said simply in a spirit of contradiction. The Bishop shook his head and smiled. "My school is a matter of more importance," said the Doctor.
"Hardly, hardly, Dr. Wortle."
"Of more importance in this way, that my school may probably be injured, whereas neither the morals nor the faith of the parishioners will have been hurt."
"But he has gone."
"He has gone;—but she remains."
"What!" exclaimed the Bishop.
"He has gone, but she remains." He repeated the words very distinctly, with a frown on his brow, as though to show that on that branch of the subject he intended to put up with no opposition,—hardly even with an adverse opinion.
"She had a certain charge, as I understand,—as to the school."
"She had, my lord; and very well she did her work. I shall have a great loss in her,—for the present."
"But you said she remained."