atoned for the imperfection of the language; and it was really
a pity that these eight old men could not be sent through the
country as moral missionaries, instead of being immured and
starved in that
wretched almshouse.
Bold finished the number; and as he threw it aside, he
thought that that at least had no direct
appliance to Mr Harding,
and that the absurdly strong
colouring of the picture would
disenable the work from doing either good or harm. He was
wrong. The artist who paints for the million must use glaring
colours, as no one knew better than Mr Sentiment when he
described the inhabitants of his almshouse; and the radical
reform which has now swept over such establishments has
owed more to the twenty numbers of Mr Sentiment's novel,
than to all the true complaints which have escaped from the
public for the last half century.
CHAPTER XVI
A Long Day in London
The
warden had to make use of all his very moderate
powers of intrigue to give his son-in-law the slip, and get
out of Barchester without being stopped on his road. No
schoolboy ever ran away from school with more precaution
and more dread of detection; no
convict, slipping down from
a prison wall, ever feared to see the gaoler more entirely than
Mr Harding did to see his son-in-law as he drove up in the
pony
carriage to the railway station, on the morning of his
escape to London.
The evening before he went he wrote a note to the archdeacon,
explaining that he should start on the
morrow on his
journey; that it was his
intention to see the attorney-general
if possible, and to decide on his future plans in
accordance with
what he heard from that gentleman; he excused himself for
giving Dr Grantly no earlier notice, by stating that his resolve
was very sudden; and having entrusted this note to Eleanor,
with the perfect, though not expressed, understanding that it
was to be sent over to Plumstead Episcopi without haste, he
took his departure.
He also prepared and carried with him a note for Sir
Abraham Haphazard, in which he stated his name, explaining
that he was the
defendant in the case of 'The Queen on
behalf of the Wool-carders of Barchester v. Trustees under the
will of the late John Hiram,' for so was the suit denominated,
and begged the
illustrious and
learned gentleman to vouchsafe
to him ten minutes'
audience at any hour on the next day.
Mr Harding calculated that for that one day he was safe; his
son-in-law, he had no doubt, would arrive in town by an early
train, but not early enough to reach the
truant till he should
have escaped from his hotel after breakfast; and could he thus
manage to see the
lawyer on that very day, the deed might be
done before the archdeacon could interfere.
On his
arrival in town the
warden drove, as was his wont.
to the Chapter Hotel and Coffee House, near St Paul's. His
visits to London of late had not been
frequent; but in those
happy days when Harding's Church Music was going through
the press, he had been often there; and as the publisher's
house was in Paternoster Row, and the printer's press in Fleet
Street, the Chapter Hotel and Coffee House had been convenient.
It was a quiet, sombre,
clerical house, beseeming such
a man as the
warden, and thus he afterwards
frequented
it. Had he dared, he would on this occasion have gone elsewhere
to throw the archdeacon further off the scent; but he did not
know what
violent steps his son-in-law might take for his
recovery if he were not found at his usual haunt, and he
deemed it not
prudent to make himself the object of a hunt
through London.
Arrived at his inn, he ordered dinner, and went forth to
the attorney-general's chambers. There he
learnt that Sir
Abraham was in Court, and would not probably return that
day. He would go direct from Court to the House; all
appointments were, as a rule, made at the chambers; the
clerk could by no means promise an
interview for the next
day; was able, on the other hand, to say that such
interviewwas, he thought, impossible; but that Sir Abraham would