But, neither did the bishop say any thing.
"Well, Mr.Thumble ?" she said again; and then she stood looking at the man who had failed so disastrously.
"I have explained to the bishop," said he.

"Mr.Crawley has been contumacious,--very contumacious indeed." "But you preached at Hogglestock ?" "No, indeed, Mrs.Proudie.Nor would it have been possible, unless I had had the police to assist me." "Then you should have had the police.

I never heard of anything so mismanaged in all my life,--never in all my life." And she put her books down on the study table, and turned herself round from Mr.
Thumble towards the bishop.

"If things go on like this, my lord," she said, "your authority in the diocese will very soon be worth nothing at all." It was not often that Mrs.Proudie called her husband my lord, but when she did do so, it was a sign that terrible times had come;--times so terrible that the bishop would know that he must either fight or fly.

He would almost endure anything rather than descend into the arena for the purpose of doing battle with his wife, but occasions would come now and again when even the alternative of flight was hardly left to him.
"But, my dear,--" began the bishop.
"Am I to understand that this man has professed himself to be altogether indifferent to the bishop's prohibition ?" said Mrs.
Proudie, interrupting her husband and addressing Mr.Thumble.
"Quite so.