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Page 83
"How is a man to live, when he gives up all his income?" said the
bishop to himself. And then the good-natured little man began to
consider how his friend might be best rescued from a death so horrid
and painful.
His first proposition to Mr Harding was, that they should live
together at the palace. He, the bishop, positively assured Mr Harding
that he wanted another resident chaplain,--not a young working
chaplain, but a steady, middle-aged chaplain; one who would dine and
drink a glass of wine with him, talk about the archdeacon, and poke
the fire. The bishop did not positively name all these duties, but
he gave Mr Harding to understand that such would be the nature of the
service required.
It was not without much difficulty that Mr Harding made his friend see
that this would not suit him; that he could not throw up the bishop's
preferment, and then come and hang on at the bishop's table; that he
could not allow people to say of him that it was an easy matter to
abandon his own income, as he was able to sponge on that of another
person. He succeeded, however, in explaining that the plan would not
do, and then the bishop brought forward another which he had in his
sleeve. He, the bishop, had in his will left certain moneys to Mr
Harding's two daughters, imagining that Mr Harding would himself want
no such assistance during his own lifetime. This legacy amounted to
three thousand pounds each, duty free; and he now pressed it as a gift
on his friend.
"The girls, you know," said he, "will have it just the same when
you're gone,--and they won't want it sooner;--and as for the interest
during my lifetime, it isn't worth talking about. I have more than
enough."
With much difficulty and heartfelt sorrow, Mr Harding refused also
this offer. No; his wish was to support himself, however poorly,--not
to be supported on the charity of anyone. It was hard to make the
bishop understand this; it was hard to make him comprehend that
the only real favour he could confer was the continuation of his
independent friendship; but at last even this was done. At any rate,
thought the bishop, he will come and dine with me from time to time,
and if he be absolutely starving I shall see it.
Touching the precentorship, the bishop was clearly of opinion that it
could be held without the other situation,--an opinion from which no
one differed; and it was therefore soon settled among all the parties
concerned, that Mr Harding should still be the precentor of the
cathedral.
On the day following Mr Harding's return, the archdeacon reached
Plumstead full of Mr Cummins's scheme regarding Puddingdale and Mr
Quiverful. On the very next morning he drove over to Puddingdale,
and obtained the full consent of the wretched clerical Priam, who was
endeavouring to feed his poor Hecuba and a dozen of Hectors on the
small proceeds of his ecclesiastical kingdom. Mr Quiverful had no
doubts as to the legal rights of the warden; his conscience would be
quite clear as to accepting the income; and as to _The Jupiter_, he
begged to assure the archdeacon that he was quite indifferent to any
emanations from the profane portion of the periodical press.
Having so far succeeded, he next sounded the bishop; but here he was
astonished by most unexpected resistance. The bishop did not think
it would do. "Not do, why not?" and seeing that his father was not
shaken, he repeated the question in a severer form: "Why not do, my
lord?"
His lordship looked very unhappy, and shuffled about in his chair,
but still didn't give way; he thought Puddingdale wouldn't do for Mr
Harding; it was too far from Barchester.
"Oh! of course he'll have a curate."
The bishop also thought that Mr Quiverful wouldn't do for the
hospital; such an exchange wouldn't look well at such a time; and,
when pressed harder, he declared he didn't think Mr Harding would
accept of Puddingdale under any circumstances.
"How is he to live?" demanded the archdeacon.
The bishop, with tears in his eyes, declared that he had not the
slightest conception how life was to be sustained within him at all.
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