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Updated: June 5, 2025
When they parted by the Deanery door, she would stand flushed, radiant in her youth and health, and say: "We've had a topping walk, old dear. Now isn't it a glorious thing to feel oneself alive?" But poor Doggie of the flabby muscles felt half dead.
It was a lovely afternoon, and the sun shone outside the green tracery of a hornbeam alley in the Deanery garden, leading from the cloister to the river. Here lay Lancelot, on the long cushion of a sofa, while Wilmet sat stitching at the last of the set of collars that would always bring so many recollections.
Then Mary received a third lecture as she sat leaning upon her husband's shoulder. "At any rate, you won't have to go away any more," she had said to him. "You have been always away, for ever so long." "It was you who would go to the deanery when you left London." "I know that. Of course I wanted to see papa then. I don't want to talk about that any more. Only, you won't go away again?"
He longed for wealth, for "wealth," he said, "is liberty, and liberty is a blessing fittest for a philosopher." And if Swift was displeased at being made only a Dean, the Irish people were equally displeased with him as their Dean. As he rode through the streets of Dublin to take possession of his Deanery, the people threw stones and mud at him and hooted him as he passed.
Two days later Gabrielle heard Mass at the Church of St Germain l'Auxerrois; and on returning to the Deanery, her aunt's home, became seriously ill. She grew rapidly worse; her sufferings were terrible to witness; and on Good Friday she was delivered of a dead child.
"If I am ever dean," said Mr. Slope, "that is, were I ever to become so, I should glory in such a canoness." "Oh, Mr. Slope, stop; I haven't half done. There is another canoness for you to glory in. Mr. Slope is not only to have the deanery but a wife to put in it." Mr. Slope again looked disconcerted. "A wife with a large fortune, too. It never rains but it pours, does it, Mr. Thorne?"
What I do weep for is, that under the flag of my country and that country a Christian one such a life as Mary's could have been lived, and so little said or done about it. In the afternoon I went to the deanery of St. Paul's a retired building in a deep court opposite the cathedral. After a brief conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Milman, we went to the cathedral.
There had been a moment in which the same idea had suggested itself to her; but now since her friendship with Jack had been strengthened by his conduct in the deanery garden she thought that he might do better with himself than be made by Mrs. Jones to marry Guss Mildmay.
"You do not thank me then for vindicating your honour and your wife's innocence?" "I do not think that that was the way. The way is to take her home." "Yes; to her old home, to the deanery for a while; so that the world, which will no doubt hear the malignant epithet applied to her by your wicked brother, may know that both her husband and her father support her.
Mrs Thorne was very glad to see her, and told her all the Barsetshire news, much more than Mrs Arabin would have learned in a week at the deanery; for Mrs Thorne had a marvellous gift of picking up news. She had already heard the whole story of Mr Soames's cheque, and expressed her conviction that the least that could be done in amends to Mr Crawley was to make him a bishop.
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