Anthony Trollope: Barchester Towers

14. CHAPTER XIV: THE NEW CAMPAIGN (continued)

'About forty, I believe,' said the archdeacon.

'Oh!' said Griselda. Had her father said eighty, Mr Arabin would not have appeared to her to be very much older.

When the two gentlemen were left alone over their wine, Mr Harding told his tale of woe. But even this, sad as it was, did not much diminish the archdeacon's good humour, though it greatly added to his pugnacity.

'He can't do it,' said Dr Grantly over and over again, as his father-in-law explained to him the terms on which the new warden of the hospital was to be appointed; 'he can't do it. What he says is not worth the trouble of listening to. He can't alter the duties of the place.'

'Who can't?' asked the ex-warden.

'Neither can the bishop nor the chaplain, nor yet the bishop's wife, who, I take it, has really more to say to such matters than either of the other two. The whole body corporate of the palace together have no power to turn the warden of the hospital into a Sunday schoolmaster.'

'But the bishop has the power to appoint whom he pleases, and--'

'I don't know that; I rather think he'll find he has no such power. Let him try it, and see what the press will say. For once we shall have the popular cry on our side. But Proudie, ass as he is, knows the world too well to get such a hornet's nest about his ears.'

Mr Harding winced at the idea of the press. He had had enough of that sort of publicity, and was unwilling to be shown up a second time either as a monster or as a martyr. He gently remarked that he hoped the newspapers would not get hold of his name again, and then suggested that perhaps it would be better that he should abandon his object. 'I am getting old,' said he; 'and after all I doubt whether I am fit to undertake new duties.'