Anthony Trollope: Barchester Towers

16. CHAPTER XVI: BABY WORSHIP (continued)

'Upon my word, I am inclined to think so. I am quite prepared to take upon myself the blame of first suggesting Mr Quiverful's name. But since doing so, I have found that there is so strong a feeling in the diocese in favour of Mr Harding, that I think your lordship should give way. I hear also that Mr Harding has modified his objections he first felt to your lordship's propositions. And as to what has passed between Mrs Proudie and Mrs Quiverful, the circumstance may be a little inconvenient, but I really do not think that that should weigh in a matter of so much moment.'

And thus the poor bishop was left in a dreadfully undecided state as to what he should do. His mind, however, slightly inclined itself to the appointment of Mr Harding, seeing that by such a step, he should have the assistance of Mr Slope in opposing Mrs Proudie.

Such was the state of affairs at the palace, when Mr Slope called at Mrs Bold's house, and found her playing with her baby. When she ran out of the room, Mr Slope began praising the weather to Mary Bold, then he praised the baby and kissed him, and then he praised the mother, and then he praised Miss Bold herself. Mrs Bold, however, was not long before she came back.

'I have to apologise for calling at so very early an hour,' began Mr Slope, 'but I was really so anxious to speak to you that I hope you and Miss Bold will excuse me.'

Eleanor muttered something in which the words 'certainly', and 'of course', and 'not early at all', were just audible, and then apologised for her own appearance, declaring with a smile, that her baby was becoming such a big boy that he was quite unmanageable.

'He's a great bit naughty boy,' said she to the child; 'and we must sent him away to a great big rough romping school, where they have great big rods, and do terrible things to naughty boys who don't do what their own mammas tell them;' and she then commenced another course of kissing, being actuated thereto by the terrible idea of sending her child away which her own imagination had depicted.