"Yes, madam; if it is to be called stubbornness, I must be stubborn. My lord, Mrs. Proudie spoke to me on this subject in the breakfast-room after you had left it, and I then ventured to explain to her that in accordance with such light as I have on the matter, I could not discuss it in her presence. I greatly grieve that I failed to make myself understood by her,—as, otherwise, this unpleasantness might have been spared."
"I understood you very well, Dr. Tempest, and I think you to be a most unreasonable man. Indeed, I might use a much harsher word."
"You may use any word you please, Mrs. Proudie," said the doctor.
"My dear, I really think you had better leave us for a few minutes," said the bishop.
"No, my lord,—no," said Mrs. Proudie, turning round upon her husband. "Not so. It would be most unbecoming that I should be turned out of a room in this palace by an uncourteous word from a parish clergyman. It would be unseemly. If Dr. Tempest forgets his duty, I will not forget mine. There are other clergymen in the diocese besides Dr. Tempest who can undertake the very easy task of this commission. As for his having been appointed rural dean I don't know how many years ago, it is a matter of no consequence whatever. In such a preliminary inquiry any three clergymen will suffice. It need not be done by the rural dean at all."
"My dear!"
"I will not be turned out of this room by Dr. Tempest;—and that is enough."
"My lord," said the doctor, "you had better write to me as I proposed to you just now."
"His lordship will not write. His lordship will do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Proudie.
"My dear!" said the bishop, driven in his perplexity beyond all carefulness of reticence. "My dear, I do wish you wouldn't,—I do indeed. If you would only go away!"