There was no standing for this, for Mr Slope was now looking at him, and so was the bishop, and so was the archdeacon, who had completed his adieux on that side of the room. Mr Harding therefore got up also, and putting out his hand to Mrs Proudie, said: ‘If you will come to St Cuthbert’s some Sunday, I will preach you a sermon on the subject.’

And so the archdeacon and the precentor took their departure, bowing low to the lady, shaking hands with the lord, and escaping from Mr Slope in the best manner each could. Mr Harding was again maltreated; but Dr Grantly swore deeply in the bottom of his heart, that no earthly consideration should ever again induce him to touch the paw of that impure and filthy animal.

And now, had I the pen of a might poet, would I sing in epic verse the noble wrath of the archdeacon. The palace steps descend to a broad gravel sweep, from whence a small gate opens out into the street, very near the covered gateway leading to the close. The road from the palace door turns to the left, through the spacious gardens, and terminates on the London–road, half a mile from the cathedral.

Till they had passed this small gate and entered the close, neither of them spoke a word; but the precentor clearly saw from his companion’s face that a tornado was to be expected, nor was he himself inclined to stop it. Though, by nature far less irritable than the archdeacon, even he was angry: he even—that mild and courteous man—was inclined to express himself in anything but courteous terms.