treated as paupers, whereas the property to which they were,
in effect, heirs was very large; and he was instigated by the

lawyer whom he had employed in the case of the turnpike to call
upon Mr Chadwick for a statement as to the funds of the estate.

Bold had often expressed his indignation at the malappropriation
of church funds in general, in the hearing of his friend

the precentor; but the conversation had never referred to
anything at Barchester; and when Finney, the attorney, induced

him to interfere with the affairs of the hospital, it was
against Mr Chadwick that his efforts were to be directed.

Bold soon found that if he interfered with Mr Chadwick as
steward, he must also interfere with Mr Harding as warden;

and though he regretted the situation in which this would
place him, he was not the man to flinch from his undertaking

from personal motives.
As soon as he had determined to take the matter in hand, he

set about his work with his usual energy. He got a copy of
John Hiram's will, of the wording of which he made himself

perfectly master. He ascertained the extent of the property,
and as nearly as he could the value of it; and made out a

schedule of what he was informed was the present distribution
of its income. Armed with these particulars, he called on

Mr Chadwick, having given that gentleman notice of his visit;
and asked him for a statement of the income and expenditure

of the hospital for the last twenty-five years.
This was of course refused, Mr Chadwick alleging that he

had no authority for making public the concerns of a property
in managing which he was only a paid servant.

'And who is competent to give you that authority, Mr Chadwick?'
asked Bold.

'Only those who employ me, Mr Bold,' said the steward.
'And who are those, Mr Chadwick?' demanded Bold.

Mr Chadwick begged to say that if these inquiries were
made merely out of curiosity, he must decline answering them:

if Mr Bold had any ulterior proceeding in view, perhaps it
would be desirable that any necessary information should be

sought for in a professional way by a professional man. Mr
Chadwick's attorneys were Messrs Cox and Cummins, of

Lincoln's Inn. Mr Bold took down the address of Cox and
Cummins, remarked that the weather was cold for the time of

the year, and wished Mr Chadwick good-morning. Mr Chadwick
said it was cold for June, and bowed him out.

He at once went to his lawyer, Finney. Now, Bold was not
very fond of his attorney, but, as he said, he merely wanted a

man who knew the forms of law, and who would do what he
was told for his money. He had no idea of putting himself in

the hands of a lawyer. He wanted law from a lawyer as he
did a coat from a tailor, because he could not make it so well

himself; and he thought Finney the fittest man in Barchester
for his purpose. In one respect, at any rate, he was right:

Finney was humility itself.
Finney advised an instant letter to Cox and Cummins,

mindful of his six-and-eightpence. 'Slap at them at once,
Mr Bold. Demand categorically and explicitly a full statement

of the affairs of the hospital.'
'Suppose I were to see Mr Harding first,' suggested Bold.

'Yes, yes, by all means,' said the acquiescing Finney;
'though, perhaps, as Mr Harding is no man of business, it may

lead--lead to some little difficulties; but perhaps you're right.
Mr Bold, I don't think seeing Mr Harding can do any harm.'

Finney saw from the expression of his client's face that he
intended to have his own way.

CHAPTER III
The Bishop of Barchester

Bold at once repaired to the hospital. The day was now
far advanced, but he knew that Mr Harding dined in the

summer at four, that Eleanor was accustomed to drive in the
evening, and that he might therefore probably find Mr Harding

alone. It was between seven and eight when he reached
the slight iron gate leading into the precentor's garden, and

though, as Mr Chadwick observed, the day had been cold for
June, the evening was mild, and soft, and sweet. The little

gate was open. As he raised the latch he heard the notes of
Mr Harding's violoncello from the far end of the garden, and,

advancing before the house and across the lawn, he found him
playing: and not without an audience. The musician was

seated in a garden-chair just within the summer-house, so as
to allow the violoncello which he held between his knees to

rest upon the dry stone flooring; before him stood a rough
music desk, on which was open a page of that dear sacred book,

that much-laboured and much-loved volume of church music,
which had cost so many guineas; and around sat, and lay,

and stood, and leaned, ten of the twelve old men who dwelt
with him beneath old John Hiram's roof. The two reformers

were not there. I will not say that in their hearts they were
conscious of any wrong done or to be done to their mild

warden, but latterly they had kept aloof from him, and his
music was no longer to their taste.

It was amusing to see the positions, and eager listening faces
of these well-to-do old men. I will not say that they all

appreciated the music which they heard, but they were intent
on appearing to do so; pleased at being where they were, they

were determined, as far as in them lay, to give pleasure in
return; and they were not unsuccessful. It gladdened the

precentor's heart to think that the old bedesmen whom he
loved so well admired the strains which were to him so full of

almost ecstatic joy; and he used to boast that such was the
air of the hospital, as to make it a precinctspecially fit for the

worship of St Cecilia.
Immediately before him, on the extreme corner of the bench

which ran round the summer-house, sat one old man, with his
handkerchief smoothly lain upon his knees, who did enjoy the

moment, or acted enjoyment well. He was one on whose
large frame many years, for he was over eighty, had made

small havoc--he was still an upright, burly, handsome figure,
with an open, ponderous brow, round which clung a few,

though very few, thin gray locks. The coarse black gown of
the hospital, the breeches, and buckled shoes became him

well; and as he sat with his hands folded on his staff, and his
chin resting on his hands, he was such a listener as most

musicians would be glad to welcome.
This man was certainly the pride of the hospital. It had

always been the custom that one should be selected as being
to some extent in authority over the others; and though

Mr Bunce, for such was his name, and so he was always designated
by his inferior brethren, had no greater emoluments than

they, he had assumed, and well knew how to maintain, the
dignity of his elevation. The precentor delighted to call

him his sub-warden, and was not ashamed, occasionally, when
no other guest was there, to bid him sit down by the same

parlour fire, and drink the full glass of port which was placed
near him. Bunce never went without the second glass, but no

entreaty ever made him take a third.
'Well, well, Mr Harding; you're too good, much too good,'

he'd always say, as the second glass was filled; but when that
was drunk, and the half hour over, Bunce stood erect, and

with a benediction which his patron valued, retired to his own
abode. He knew the world too well to risk the comfort of such