income when he has been worreted out of the hospital. Mark

what I tell you, archdeacon: while you and Sir Abraham are
fighting, papa will lose his preferment; and what will you do

then with him and Eleanor on your hands? besides, who's to
pay Sir Abraham? I suppose he won't take the case up for

nothing?' And so the lady descended to family worship
among her children and servants, the pattern of a good and

prudent wife.
Dr Grantly was blessed with a happy, thriving family.

There were, first, three boys, now at home from school for the
holidays. They were called, respectively, Charles James,

Henry, and Samuel. The two younger (there were five in all)
were girls; the elder, Florinda, bore the name of the Archbishop

of York's wife, whose godchild she was: and the younger had
been christened Grizzel, after a sister of the Archbishop

of Canterbury. The boys were all clever, and gave good promise of
being well able to meet the cares and trials of the world; and

yet they were not alike in their dispositions, and each had
his individual character, and each his separate admirers

among the doctor's friends.
Charles James was an exact and careful boy; he never

committed himself; he well knew how much was expected
from the eldest son of the Archdeacon of Barchester, and was

therefore mindful not to mix too freely with other boys. He
had not the great talents of his younger brothers, but he

exceeded them in judgment and propriety of demeanour; his fault,
if he had one, was an over-attention to words instead of things;

there was a thought too much finesse about him, and, as even his
father sometimes told him, he was too fond of a compromise.

The second was the archdeacon's favourite son, and Henry
was indeed a brilliant boy. The versatility of his genius was

surprising, and the visitors at Plumstead Episcopi were often
amazed at the marvellous manner in which he would, when

called on, adapt his capacity to apparently" target="_blank" title="ad.显然，表面上地">apparently most uncongenial
pursuits. He appeared once before a large circle as Luther

the reformer, and delighted them with the perfect manner in
which he assumed the character; and within three days he

again astonished them by acting the part of a Capuchin friar
to the very life. For this last exploit his father gave him a

golden guinea, and his brothers said the reward had been
promised beforehand in the event of the performance being

successful. He was also sent on a tour into Devonshire; a
treat which the lad was most anxious of enjoying. His father's

friends there, however, did not appreciate his talents, and sad
accounts were sent home of the perversity of his nature. He

was a most courageous lad, game to the backbone.
It was soon known, both at home, where he lived, and within

some miles of Barchester Cathedral, and also at Westminster,
where he was at school, that young Henry could box

well and would never own himself beat; other boys would
fight while they had a leg to stand on, but he would fight with

no leg at all. Those backing him would sometimes think him
crushed by the weight of blows and faint with loss of blood,

and his friends would endeavour to withdraw him from the
contest; but no, Henry never gave in, was never weary of the

battle. The ring was the only element in which he seemed to
enjoy himself; and while other boys were happy in the

number of their friends, he rejoiced most in the multitude of
his foes.

His relations could not but admire his pluck, but they sometimes
were forced to regret that he was inclined to be a bully; and

those not so partial to him as his father was, observed with pain
that, though he could fawn to the masters and the archdeacon's

friends, he was imperious and masterful to the servants and
the poor.

But perhaps Samuel was the general favourite; and dear
little Soapy, as he was familiarly called, was as engaging a

child as ever fond mother petted. He was soft and gentle in
his manners, and attractive in his speech; the tone of his voice

was melody, and every action was a grace; unlike his brothers,
he was courteous to all, he was affable to the lowly, and meek

even to the very scullery-maid. He was a boy of great promise,
minding his books and delighting the hearts of his masters.

His brothers, however, were not particularly fond of him; they
would complain to their mother that Soapy's civility all meant

something; they thought that his voice was too often listened
to at Plumstead Episcopi, and evidently feared that, as he

grew up, he would have more weight in the house than either
of them; there was, therefore, a sort of agreement among

them to put young Soapy down. This, however, was not so
easy to be done; Samuel, though young, was sharp; he could

not assume the stiff decorum of Charles James, nor could he
fight like Henry; but he was a perfect master of his own

weapons, and contrived, in the teeth of both of them, to hold
the place which he had assumed. Henry declared that he

was a false, cunning creature; and Charles James, though he
always spoke of him as his dear brother Samuel, was not slow

to say a word against him when opportunity offered. To speak
the truth, Samuel was a cunning boy, and those even who

loved him best could not but own that for one so young he was
too adroit in choosing his words, and too skilled in modulating

his voice.
The two little girls Florinda and Grizzel were nice little girls

enough, but they did not possess the strong sterling qualities
of their brothers; their voices were not often heard at

Plumstead Episcopi; they were bashful and timid by nature,
slow to speak before company even when asked to do so; and

though they looked very nice in their clean white muslin frocks
and pink sashes, they were but little noticed by the

archdeacon's visitors.
Whatever of submissive humility may have appeared in the

gait and visage of the archdeacon during his colloquy with his
wife in the sanctum of their dressing-rooms was dispelled as

he entered his breakfast-parlour with erect head and powerful
step. In the presence of a third person he assumed the lord

and master; and that wise and talented" target="_blank" title="a.天才的；能干的">talented lady too well knew
the man to whom her lot for life was bound, to stretch her

authority beyond the point at which it would be borne.
Strangers at Plumstead Episcopi, when they saw the imperious

brow with which he commanded silence from the large circle
of visitors, children, and servants who came together in the

morning to hear him read the word of God, and watched how
meekly that wife seated herself behind her basket of keys with

a little girl on each side, as she caught that commanding
glance; strangers, I say, seeing this, could little guess that some

fifteen minutes since she had stoutly held her ground against
him, hardly allowing him to open his mouth in his own defence.

But such is the tact and talent of women!
And now let us observe the well-furnished breakfast-parlour

at Plumstead Episcopi, and the comfortable air of all the
belongings of the rectory. Comfortable they certainly were,

but neither gorgeous nor even grand; indeed, considering the
money that had been spent there, the eye and taste might

have been better served; there was an air of heaviness about
the rooms which might have been avoided without any sacrifice

of propriety; colours might have been better chosen and lights
more perfectly diffused; but perhaps in doing so the thorough

clericalaspect of the whole might have been somewhat marred; at
any rate, it was not without ample consideration that those

thick, dark, costly carpets were put down; those embossed, but