Framley Parsonage Anthony Trollope (best english novels for beginners .TXT) đ
- Author: Anthony Trollope
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Mrs. Harold Smith was the very opposite of her lord. She was a clever, bright woman, good-looking for her time of lifeâ âand she was now over fortyâ âwith a keen sense of the value of all worldly things, and a keen relish for all the worldâs pleasures. She was neither laborious, nor well-informed, nor perhaps altogether honestâ âwhat woman ever understood the necessity or recognized the advantage of political honesty?â âbut then she was neither dull nor pompous, and if she was conceited, she did not show it. She was a disappointed woman, as regards her husband; seeing that she had married him on the speculation that he would at once become politically important; and as yet Mr. Smith had not quite fulfilled the prophecies of his early life.
And Lady Lufton, when she spoke of the Chaldicotes set, distinctly included, in her own mind, the Bishop of Barchester, and his wife and daughter. Seeing that Bishop Proudie was, of course, a man much addicted to religion and to religious thinking, and that Mr. Sowerby himself had no peculiar religious sentiments whatever, there would not at first sight appear to be ground for much intercourse, and perhaps there was not much of such intercourse; but Mrs. Proudie and Mrs. Harold Smith were firm friends of four or five yearsâ standingâ âever since the Proudies came into the diocese; and therefore the bishop was usually taken to Chaldicotes whenever Mrs. Smith paid her brother a visit. Now Bishop Proudie was by no means a High Church dignitary, and Lady Lufton had never forgiven him for coming into that diocese. She had, instinctively, a high respect for the episcopal office; but of Bishop Proudie himself she hardly thought better than she did of Mr. Sowerby, or of that fabricator of evil, the Duke of Omnium. Whenever Mr. Robarts would plead that in going anywhere he would have the benefit of meeting the bishop, Lady Lufton would slightly curl her upper lip. She could not say in words, that Bishop Proudieâ âbishop as he certainly must be calledâ âwas no better than he ought to be; but by that curl of her lip she did explain to those who knew her that such was the inner feeling of her heart.
And then it was understoodâ âMark Robarts, at least, had so heard, and the information soon reached Framley Courtâ âthat Mr. Supplehouse was to make one of the Chaldicotes party. Now Mr. Supplehouse was a worse companion for a gentlemanlike, young, High Church, conservative county parson than even Harold Smith. He also was in Parliament, and had been extolled during the early days of that Russian war by some portion of the metropolitan daily press, as the only man who could save the country. Let him be in the ministry, the Jupiter had said, and there would be some hope of reform, some chance that Englandâs ancient glory would not be allowed in these perilous times to go headlong to oblivion. And upon this the ministry, not anticipating much salvation from Mr. Supplehouse, but willing, as they usually are, to have the Jupiter at their back, did send for that gentleman, and gave him some footing among them. But how can a man born to save a nation, and to lead a people, be content to fill the chair of an undersecretary? Supplehouse was not content, and soon gave it to be understood that his place was much higher than any yet tendered to him. The seals of high office, or war to the knife, was the alternative which he offered to a much-belaboured Head of Affairsâ ânothing doubting that the Head of Affairs would recognize the claimantâs value, and would have before his eyes a wholesome fear of the Jupiter. But the Head of Affairs, much belaboured as he was, knew that he might pay too high even for Mr. Supplehouse and the Jupiter; and the saviour of the nation was told that he might swing his tomahawk. Since that time he had been swinging his tomahawk, but not with so much effect as had been anticipated. He also was very intimate with Mr. Sowerby, and was decidedly one of the Chaldicotes set.
And there were many others included in the stigma whose sins were political or religious rather than moral. But they were gall and wormwood to Lady Lufton, who regarded them as children of the Lost One, and who grieved with a motherâs grief when she knew that her son was among them, and felt all a patronâs anger when she heard that her clerical protĂ©gĂ© was about to seek such society. Mrs. Robarts might well say that Lady Lufton would be annoyed.
âYou wonât call at the house before you go, will you?â the wife asked on the following morning. He was to start after lunch on that day, driving himself in his own
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