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Up came Mr Thumble to the door of the parsonage, and having come down from his gig was about to enter the house as though it were his own. Mr Crawley greeted him in the pathway, raising his hat from his head, and expressing a wish that Mr Thumble might not feel himself fatigued with his drive.
"If he has expected to find menials here, as he has them at the palace, he will be wrong. If he wants to come in here, let him tie the beast to the rail." So Jane went out and sent a message to Mr Thumble by the girl, and Mr Thumble did tie the pony to the rail, and followed the girl into the house.
"It was well that he was not going fast, or you would have come on to your head," said Grantly. "It was a mercy," said Thumble. "But, sir, as it was, I came to the ground with much violence. It was on Spigglewick Hill, where the road is covered with loose stones. I see, sir, you have a gig and horse here, with a servant.
Mr Snapper expressed his opinion that Mr Thumble was bound to go out to Hogglestock; and, when Mr Thumble declared petulantly that he would not stir a step out of Barchester, Mr Snapper protested that Mr Thumble would have to answer for it in this world and in the next if there were no services at Hogglestock on that Sunday.
Services on saints' days she regarded as rank papacy, and had been known to accuse a clergyman's wife to her face, of idolatry, because the poor lady had dated a letter, St John's Eve. Mr Thumble, on this Sunday evening, was successful in finding the bishop at home, and alone, but he was not lucky enough to get away before Mrs Proudie returned.
Was he giving up his pulpit to a stranger for any reason less cogent than one which made it absolutely imperative on him to be silent in that church which had so long been his own? "Just as you please," said Mr Thumble. "Only it's rather hard lines to have to do it all myself after coming all the way from Barchester this morning." To this Mr Crawley condescended to make no reply whatever.
It is the bishop's wish that you should touch nothing." Mr Thumble was by this time on the step, and Mr Crawley instantly slammed the door. "The gentleman is a clergyman from Barchester," said Mr Crawley, modestly folding his hands upon his breast, "whom the bishop has sent over here to take upon himself temporarily the services of the church, and, as it appears, the duties also of the parish.
"Mark says that the bishop could hardly do anything else," rejoined Mrs Robarts. "I daresay not, my dear. I suppose the bishop has somebody near him to tell him what he may do, and what he may not do. It would be terrible to think of, if it were not so. But yet, when I hear that he has named such men as Mr Thumble and Mr Quiverful, I cannot but feel that the whole diocese is disgraced."
But Mr Thumble had gone over, taking his gown and surplice with him, on the Sunday morning, and had intimated to Mr Crawley his intention of performing the service.
But, as I have said before, that is no business of ours. I hope, Mr Thumble, that the bishop will never be found interfering with the ordinary laws of the land. I am very sure that he will never do so by my advice. But when there comes a question of inhibiting a clergyman who has committed himself as that clergyman unfortunately has done, then I say that that clergyman ought to be inhibited."
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