Providing some relief from Ayala's quest for her angel are the subplots that constitute the comedy of manners in which Trollope excels. These little subplots are so entertaining, why bother with a serious major plot? It takes an uncommonly skillful genius to satisfy the reader with nothing but pies and cakes. Barchester Towers, one of the earlier Trollope novels, came close; it contains only enough serious plot to serve as a scaffolding for the satire of the clerical community of Barchester. And Thackeray's Vanity Fair comes to mind as a long novel of the same period designed to demonstrate what fools mortals be. In Ayala's case, fools disport themselves around her while she is waiting patiently for her knight.
First among these is Tom Tringle, even though the author's sympathy for him tells us that his foolishness is temporary, and he is destined to grow up, though not necessarily within the confines of the present novel. Tom is a hobbledehoy, and one suspects that the author may be recalling his own youth when he reminds us that though a young man and woman may be about the same age, the young woman is often more advanced in her knowledge and understanding of the world and of how to comport herself. Tom suffers from this truth, showing himself to be one who may yet prove himself to be a late bloomer, but too late to be a successful suitor for such a prize as Ayala.
But though women often outshine and outperform the men in their lives, they suffer the restrictions of Victorian society. Living in a later age in which women have won the right to assert themselves more successfully, the differences between men and women still provide the basis for novels, short stories, and drama. Today a woman may knock on the door of a man who does not return her text messages, but men may still be boys while the girls in their lives are women. No Victorian woman novelist knew this better than Anthony Trollope, who described the world as he found it; and the circumstances spoke for themselves.
And here lies the comedy of manners, presented on the stage of the household of Sir Thomas Tringle, a wealthy man of business. Sir Thomas is vexed by his son-in-law Septimus Traffick, a man of birth and a Member of Parliament, but also devoid of fortune or income and sufficiently thick of skin to ignore all Sir Thomas's efforts to dislodge him and his wife Augusta from the Tringle home, whether in town or country.
Augusta, the elder of the two Tringle daughters, is sufficiently haughty to provoke Ayala, in one of the pivotal moments in the story, to ask Augusta to run upstairs and fetch a scrapbook for her. Such effrontery cannot be forgiven. Now more than ever, Augusta often finds it necessary to remind both her family and the poor Ayala that she is married to one of the most important men in the country.
The younger sister pushes herself into the comedy by asserting that she too must be blessed with dowry and husband, and in her sequential pursuit of two ineligible young men, she invites each in his turn to elope with her to Ostend.
The unfortunate Tom Tringle, son and heir to Sir Thomas Tringle, may be the biggest fool of all, betraying himself by his dress as he adorns himself with gaudy jewels and ornate finery when he comes to see Ayala. His offer to fight a duel with his rival Colonel Jonathan Stubbs provides the same mockery of the code of honor as does a similar offer in The Macdermotts of Ballycloran. However, the author finally confesses to the reader that Tom Tringle is the real hero of the novel. His folly is that of youth, and his devotion to his ideal is his redeeming quality. Tom and Ayala share a determination to adhere to the highest standard in pursuit of a mate, and it may be that this youthful idealism and perseverance cause them to be the author's declared hero and heroine.
Another variant of the relation between the sexes appears in the on-again, off-again romance between Frank Houston and Imogene Docimer. Lacking the means to support themselves in the manner to which Frank has become accustomed, they have already broken off an engagement when the reader meets them. Frank, who declares frankly that he has no intention of working for a living, becomes the first of two suitors for the hand of Gertrude Tringle and the handsome dowry she is expected to bring with her. In this suit he finds Gertrude more than willing to accept him and assume the same elevated status of a married lady that her sister has already attained.
Already vexed by the reluctance of his newly acquired son-in-law Septimus Traffick to vacate the premises and establish a home of his own, Sir Thomas refuses to promise any dowry at all to Gertrude if she marries another potential parasite upon his resources. Frank wavers between one young woman (Imogene) who would accept him in spite of his poverty because she loves him, and another young woman (Gertrude) who would accompany him, or almost any Tom, Dick, or Harry, to Ostend, the favored destination of eloping English couples.
Sir Thomas follows the foolishness of the Tringle family with despair. His trenchant observations provide the voice of reason in assessing the motives and machinations of the members of his household who concern themselves with how best to capitalize on the wealth his business affairs have brought them.