"Of course he will do anything of that kind. He must know the circumstances as well as you and I do."
"At present they tell me that he is much afflicted by the death of his wife, and, therefore, can hardly be expected to take immediate action. There came here on the last Sunday one Mr. Snapper, his lordship's chaplain."
"We all know Snapper," said the dean. "Snapper is not a bad little fellow."
"I say nothing of his being bad, my friend, but merely mention the fact that on Sunday morning last he performed the service in our church. On the Sunday previous, one Mr. Thumble was here."
"We all know Thumble, too," said the dean; "or, at least, know something about him."
"He has been a thorn in our sides," said Mrs. Crawley, unable to restrain the expression of her dislike when Mr. Thumble's name was mentioned.
"Nay, my dear, nay;—do not allow yourself the use of language so strong against a brother. Our flesh at that time was somewhat prone to fester, and little thorns made us very sore."
"He is a horrible man," said Jane, almost in a whisper; but the words were distinctly audible by the dean.
"They need not come any more," said Arabin.
"That is where I fear we differ. I think they must come,—or some others in their place,—till the bishop shall have expressed his pleasure to the contrary. I have submitted myself to his lordship, and, having done so, feel that I cannot again go up into my pulpit till he shall have authorized me to do so. For a time, Arabin, I combated the bishop, believing,—then and now,—that he put forth his hand against me after a fashion which the law had not sanctioned. And I made bold to stand in his presence and to tell him that I would not obey him, except in things legal. But afterwards, when he proceeded formally, through the action of a commission, I submitted myself. And I regard myself still as being under submission."