'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, I feel that I cannot again go up into my pulpit till he shall have authorised me to do so. For a time, Arabin, I combatted the bishop, believing--then as 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 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 his submission.'
It was impossible to shake him. Arabin remained there for more than an hour, trying to pass on to another subject, but being constantly brought back by Mr Crawley himself to the fact of his own dependent position.
Nor would he condescend to supplicate the bishop. It was, he surmised, the duty of Dr Tempest, together with the other four clergymen, to report to the bishop on the question of the alleged theft; and then doubtless the bishop, when he had duly considered the report, and--as Mr Crawley seemed to think was essentially necessary--had sufficiently recovered from the grief of his wife's death, would, at his leisure, communicate his decision to Mr Crawley. Nothing could be more complete than Mr Crawley's humility with respect to the bishop; and he never seemed to be tired of declaring that he had submitted himself!
And then the dean, finding it to be vain to expect to be left alone with Mr Crawley for a moment--in vain also to wait for a proper opening for that which he had to say--rushed violently at his other subject. 'And now, Mrs Crawley,' he said. 'Mrs Arabin wishes you all to come over to the deanery for a while and stay with us.'
'Mrs Arabin is too kind,' said Mrs Crawley, looking across at her husband.
'We should like of all things,' said the dean, with perhaps more of good nature than of truth. 'Of course you must have been knocked about a good deal.'
'Indeed we have,' said Mrs Crawley.
'And till you are somewhat settled again, I think that the change of scene would be good for all of you. Come, Crawley, I'll talk to you every evening about Jerusalem for as long as you please; and then there will perhaps come back to us something of the pleasantness of old days.'
As she heard this Mrs Crawley's eyes became full of tears, and she could not altogether hide them. What she had endured during the last four months had almost broken her spirit. The burden had at last been too heavy for her strength. 'You cannot fancy, Crawley, how often I have thought of the old days and wished that they might return. I have found it very hard to get an opportunity of saying so much to you; but I will say it now.'
'It may hardly be as you say,' said Crawley, grimly.
'You mean that the old days can never be brought back?'
'Assuredly they cannot. But it was not that I meant. It may not be that I and mine should transfer ourselves to your roof and sojourn there.'
'Why should you not?'
'The reasons are many, and on the face of things. The reason, perhaps, the most on the face of it is to be found in my wife's gown, and in my coat.' This Mr Crawley said very gravely, looking neither to the right nor to the left nor at the face of any of them, nor at his own garment, nor hers, but straight before him; and when he had so spoken he said not a word further --not going on to dilate on his poverty as the dean expected that he would do.
'At such a time such reasons should stand for nothing,' said the dean.
'And why not now as they always do, and always must till the power of tailors shall have waned, and the daughters of Eve shall toil and spin no more? Like to like is true, and should be held to be true, of all societies and of all compacts for co-operation and mutual living. Here, where, if I may venture to say so, you and I are like to like;--for the new gloss of your coat;--the dean, as it happened, had on at the moment a very old coat, his oldest coat, selected perhaps with some view to this special visit--'does not obtrude itself in my household, as would be the threadbare texture of mine in yours;--I can open my mouth to you and converse with you at my ease; you are now to me that Frank Arabin who has so comforted me and so often confuted me; whom I may perhaps on occasion have confuted--and perhaps have comforted. But were I sitting with you in your library in Barchester, my threadbare coat would be too much for me. I should be silent, if not sullen. I should feel the weight of all my poverty, and the greater weight of all your wealth. For my children let them go. I have come to know that they will be better from me.'
'Papa!' said Jane.
'Papa does not mean it,' said Grace, coming up to him and standing close to him.
There was silence amongst them for a few moments, and then the master of the house shook himself--literally shook himself, till he had shaken off the cloud. He had taken Grace by the hand, and thrusting out the other arm had got it round Jane's waist. 'When a man has girls, Arabin,' he said, 'as you have, but not big girls yet like Grace here, of course he knows that they will fly away.'
'I shall not fly away,' said Jane.
'I don't know what papa means,' said Grace.
Upon the whole the dean thought it the pleasantest visit he had ever made to Hogglestock, and when he got home he told his wife that he believed that the accusation made against Mr Crawley had done him good.
'I could not say a word in private to her,' he said, 'but I did promise that you would go over and see her. On the very next day, Mrs Arabin went over, and I think that the visit was a comfort to Mrs Crawley.