Teenagers, Trust and Trickiness; Samuel Pepys’ Diary; and Barchester Towers

Transcript

0:00

Hello, hello, hello. It's Tuesday night. It's 8 30, but it feels like about four o'clock because it's so light outside. And it's Tuesday, so that means it's bell practice night, and I love it. I love hearing the mistakes. I love hearing it when they get it right. I love it all. And I just came back from a shop, and halfway around the shop, it um it's sometimes it's the worst time when I go shopping. It always reminds me of my mum, and halfway around I had that shock of realisation I'm never gonna see her again. And I was bent double in grief, and it's just horrible, horrible, awful. But as I talk, two swifts have just gone past. I could see another one in the background. Poppy's behind, gnawing on something, and the clouds are in the sky, and all continues, but that thump to the gut, realizing and just seeing her face in my mind, and it's just awful when that feeling comes, and as boring perhaps as it is to hear it, I'm I need to share it. I hope that's okay. And I'm feeling a little better now. I've been getting jobs done, and my daughter is looking happier. My son's also he knows what house he's going to go to in in Durham if he passes his A levels, but he's a bit anxious. He thinks one of them, English, he's not gonna get the grade he wants, so I won't get excited yet about the house or let you know or anything like that. But it would be wonderful. It's it's I think it's the most interesting of the houses, and it but I say that because I love the architecture there, so let's just see. But I I hope he does well for his own sake because I just know he'll be so disappointed in himself. And there's a lovely motor light going past, and I'm going out oh so noisy, going out into the garden to feed the birds, and I can feel you know, when you've cried a lot and you feel like wrung out, and I've got that feeling, so but I think it's important to cry, isn't it? People say it is so tough, and and I know I've got lots of videos on her on my phone, but I don't watch them and I but they do actually soothe me because it makes me realise I can see her whenever I want. But I don't know why I don't look at it. I think it's because I don't want to I don't want to dwell in it. I don't I don't want to you know I've got to move on, but and I I just try and chat to her and uh have a bit of faith that maybe she's there somewhere who knows, but tough, tough. And I feel for any of you who are going through anything similar, and you know it's been a year now. Do share with me if you've got similar feelings and you want to express them or you want to share a poem you might have written or is meaningful for you, and I'll read it out. But lots of love for now, I'm gonna go feed the birds! Well, those were the lovely bells earlier, and now as I close up for the night, I'm just gonna peep behind the curtain because and there they are, two hedgehogs eating the food I've put out. I'm glad that they haven't lost hope because obviously when we went to Cornwall, no one was putting food out, but I think the smell is probably so strong that they can smell it from the other side of the garden. So I'm just gonna take a little photo of them and then tuck up for the night. A slight scampering sound is the sound of puppies saying, I want that food. You can smell it, can't you, sweetheart? I know, but I've got some cheese ready for you for bedtime. She always has a few lumps of cheese at night, so come on then, let's get you in bed. That was an exchange going on. What I had done is put my phone to record the bells on a table in the garden, and then I was out feeding the birds, and my daughter was going off meeting some friends, and tonight we're having um a few drinks with people she knows, and so she's coming, and I was just saying, you know, invite anyone you want, because I'm obviously wanting just her to be happy at the moment, so I I just left it in anyway because it's just a little exchange between us. And last night we had a great uh time. I was lying in bed about half midnight. You know, it's much too late. I need to get much better at my routines at night. I'm in a bad routine of going to bed too late at the moment, and I remembered I hadn't massaged her, so I went through and I sat on her bed, and as I was massaging her calves, which she said were sore, I was just quiet, and she just started to talk, and that was great. Um, and then just now she's just off to do an exam. We had a really lovely chat for about an hour. She was talking so perspicaciously and just so wisely, really, about the Tempest and Shakespeare and Prospero and women, and I don't know. She's just you know, you hear your own daughter talk and you just think, wow, that's amazing. I know I'm biased, but you know, I think she's a a sharp, intelligent girl. They're all just oversensitive. I was thinking about it, you know, and I was thinking about teenagers. Oh, maybe it's gotta be too windy. Let me just shield the phone. I was thinking if we treat teenagers as people who have got uh who get up every morning with their their cup of trust almost fully depleted. Not completely, you know, they've got a bit, they wake up and trust you a little bit, but all the trust you've built up from the night before. So, say for example, all the trust and bonding that I had with her the night before, you can't pick up on that. It's like I don't know, maybe in the early days of a romance when you have a very warm, lovely, intimate weekend or something, and then you expect to pick up on that the next time you meet, and that's how your relationship develops. But with teenagers, you know, having gone from when they're little, they wake up every morning and they they sort of trust you a hundred percent. And I you know, that feeling can be actually quite scary. That that feeling that whatever answer you give, about you know, when they say, I don't know what happens in heaven, or what shall I do when I grow up, or whatever answer you give, you know, is so important to them, they trust you so much. But as soon as puberty is reached, that doesn't happen anymore, and it's not their fault, it's the way their brains are wired, which is you know, don't trust your parents anymore, don't get go and make your own way, go trust your, you know, learn to learn to trust yourself, learn to trust your own instincts, learn to develop self-reliance and all those things, and none of that happens if you're depending on your parents. And so, you know, evolution has uh developed this sort of system whereby teenagers wake up in the morning and their their cup of trust isn't is is half empty. I know I'm slightly talking nonsense, but you know, I think I think maybe you're with me or you can follow what I'm saying. And so, even though we had a lovely time chatting at gone midnight last night, when when I saw this morning we were chatting in the kitchen, her immediate vibe towards me, to use a youngster word, is distant. And then as we start talking, it it warms again and it gets warmer and warmer until the trust builds up again and so ad infinitum, and it's not enough for me as a parent to think, right, I've nailed it. Well done, Gretel. Good parenting, I can now relax because when I see her again this evening, the cup will be empty again or nearly empty, and I've got to start again because I don't know, maybe another way to look at it is it's a leaky cup, a leaky cup of trust and love, and I have to just recognise that it needs constant topping up, and therefore I can't at the moment, anyway, go away for say three nights because that that's enough time for events to happen in her life that can be quite enormous, and I'm not around to support her, she needs that support. So we'll see what happens. I'm not sure what's going to happen next week and whether she's going to how much she's going to join in with what with school events. I'm doing things behind the scenes to try and help, and we'll just have to see what happens. I'm standing now in the beautiful wooded area on the slopes in Sherbourne, and the birds are having a wonderful time. And I've just stopped walking just to watch the two dogs because I'm just watching actually who which dog follows which and how much do they interact because they're both sort of doing their own thing. They've doggo's poor doggo with her tiredness and her operation, but she's wagging her tail, she's happy, she loves being outdoors, her big pink tongue's out, and she's looking around the grass, eating little bits of it. And meanwhile, puppy's higher up and doing a bit of digging and sniffing. She seems to be much more scent-oriented than doggo. And she she likes sniffing for I mean, I don't know what rabbits or I don't know what she's finding. They both keep an eye on each other, but uh don't seem to follow each other much. They more just hover around me, but I just find it interesting to watch them. And and in the in the midground, there's the whole of Sherbourne Abbey. It's surprising how much you can see from here. It really is on a on a hill. You wouldn't know it when you're walking round it in town. It doesn't feel like you'd be able to see so much of it. I can I mean I can see right to the bottom really of the of the great uh southern windows. And yeah, so at the moment, Doggo's actually following Puppy around. Scout's taking the lead a little bit, and Doggo's following her. I wonder if Scout's gonna end up as the leader. Doggo, did she take the lead with our other one, George? It's difficult to know. It's difficult to know. And I'm gonna walk back now to the car and then finish this episode because we really have got to catch up with dear Samuel Peeps, who's wondering where we are, and we have got to catch up with our history of the church. We've got to catch up with some saints, and uh of course Trollope and Bronte. So I don't know whether this is going to be a long one or whether we just do uh a reading or two and then have a literary episode. We'll see, we'll see how it goes. Um but I'm walking back to the car, and yeah, the dog the dogs just sort of follow each other. It's difficult to say if either one is particularly taking the lead, but they certainly both seem to enjoy proxima close proximity, and it does remind me very much of the the sibling relationship, which is siblings, it's not that they particularly want to be with each other because there's so much competition, and as we've seen my own life, so much distrust and dislike, but but they still, you know, when they're little, they don't go very that far from each other. There's still that safety in numbers or safety and familiarity, I suppose. I'm sitting in the house and I'm very, very organised at the moment. I feel like the house is tidy, I'm up to speed with chores, I'm sitting here with a lovely silver pot of darjeeling tea, which I've got a penchant for at the moment, and I'm playing beautiful music, and I've got all the books ready. And I was thinking about the fact that the one thing that I feel helps me cope with grief and helps me just live my life with a sort of level basis of contentment is when I feel organised and I need to hold on, remember that. I think for some people maybe it would be feeling really fit or going to the gym, or but for me it's having everything well ordered, tidy, clean. I go into the bathroom and everything's neat, the linen cupboards or neat, and people might think, well, that's ridiculous, but I for me it is important because that's the environment in which I live and and that the children come back to and the husband comes back to and where the animals are and yeah, so I also think I should avoid supermarkets, whatever if for all well I know the reasons, but it does always bring on, nearly always bring on real horrid grief. I've got so many memories and I realise happy memories now. I wouldn't perhaps have said that at the time of going round supermarkets with my mother. But one really strong memory I have that is maybe why it sets off is I've alluded to the a time when I spent with my real father when I was in my late teens and it was a terrible time, and the time that I finally had the courage to leave leave you know, not leave him so much as remove him from my life. I came from Newcastle where I was studying down to London, and I was meant to spend Christmas with him, and I was dreading it really because he was really poor and he was staying in uh some kind of council property, and it was just like one room and a an ensuite and and a tell, and oh we were just gonna sort of have a baked potato and go to the local pub and it was all hideous. And I caught a late night taxi and there's a whole story in that because the cab driver was really really cared for me and looked out for me, and in fact I went to his house for about half an hour. I yes, in fact I didn't catch a taxi, did I? I I stayed in I stayed with the taxi driver who stayed with me until my mum and a stepfather could come and pick me up, and they came to pick me up maybe towards midnight on something like the twenty-first, twenty-second of December. And it was just before I was turning twenty, so I imagine that was nineteen ninety-two. And they brought me back home and I went to bed, and then the next morning we had to go and oh suddenly made me feel engulfed by tears. We had to go to the s had to go shopping for Christmas and we had a Tesco and we lived in a place called Raynham, a very run-down place. If you were to Google Raynham in Kent, you wouldn't see much beauty. But actually, originally it was set in Hopfields and by the river, Medway, and you know, it's got it's got original beauty, but just developed and it's within commuting distance of London. So I woke up and went to Tesco's with my mother, and it was just her and me, and it was in the time when everything had price labels, so it was in the time when shopping was a slow business, but because we were shopping for Christmas, and because I felt safe finally from be having been with my father, who was a very unsafe person, I have a clear memory of looking out looking at her and feeling so overwhelmed by happiness that there I was and that I wouldn't have to see my father again, and just in a couple of days' time it was Christmas, and I could just relax and enjoy myself, and I I was just doing things like you know, looking for yogurts or whatever it was, bread or and everything I was doing within that shop felt so happy, and I was with my mum and I felt so much love for her, and that feeling of safety was just a wonderful thing, and and I wonder, you know, for children who have grown up in foster care or adoption where it's been difficult, or or for children who have grown up in families where they've not felt safe. I just want to if you if you've if you're one of those people, I just want to say that I know how that feels and it's that it's pretty much the worst feeling in the world. And it's difficult to describe to people because they might say, Well, what did you feel unsafe about? And I mean sometimes there are sp specifics, but other times it's more just a feeling of unsafeness that that clutches you in inside and right down into your innards, and it's an awful feeling, and do you it it's then if you're lucky enough to then go f go to a safe place like I was then with my mother, and then you feel that wonderful feeling of safety. It's a a reminder at that point actually how happiness can be drawn from simple things, which is a slow, slow, long way of bringing me back to exactly where I am now. And I'm looking at the tray of tea and I'm looking out at the garden and and still for me the things the thing that brings me the greatest pleasure is feeling safe, and part of that safety is everything feeling well ordered and in its place, and yeah, hmm. Any thoughts? Let me know. But let's turn to Peeps. He sent me a message, he said, Where are you? It's uh been too long. People will forget where we are, and we'll build we're building up to plagues, we're building up to fires, we're build we're building up to all sorts. So let's go to Peeps. This is the sixth of January and it's a one day overlap. I don't know if you remember, but it was the twelfth day, sixth of January, up into my office where very busy all the morning, being indeed overloaded with it through my own desire of doing all I can. At noon to the change, i.e. the exchange, but did little, and so home to dinner. Isn't it funny that it was just called the change, the place to go, to change contracts, to change money, to change what's it called, to change I don't know, currences. And so home to dinner with my poor wife, and after dinner read a lecture to her in geography, which she takes very prettily and with great pleasure to her and me to teach her, and so do the office again, were as busy as ever in my life, one thing after another, and answering people's business. I have to say that I think I'm at my most content with husband when we're sitting in a pub and he's talking to me about something that I didn't really know much about, and I'm listening, and he's enjoying my listening and interest, and I'm enjoying hearing about it, and vice versa, when he takes an interest in things that I'm doing. And I it's you have to make that effort, and it's not always easy, and I I may I make it sound as though I'm a perfect wife, and I'm not. I'm very irritating most of the time. And he tells me that oh dear. Oh my goodness. And so to office again, we're as busy as ever in my life, one thing after another, and answering people's business, particularly drawing up things about Mr Wood's masts, which I expect to have a quarrel about with Mr with Sir William Batten before it to be ended, but I care not. Good for you, Peeps. At night home to my wife to supper, discourse prayers and to bed. This morning I began a practice which I find by the ease I do it with that I shall continue it saving me money and time. You ready? That is, to trim myself with a razor, and he spent uh spelt oh my the door keeps slang up slamming, trim, he spelt T R I M M E. I shouldn't just shut the door. And I will just say I really like a clean shaven man. I think Beards and moustaches and dodgy facial growth no and it's fr really annoying that they've now allowed it in the army, and you can see people passing out of Sandhurst with beards and no only for naval officers. I I hope they get rid of that at some point. Seventh of january sixteen sixty four, up, putting on my best clothes and to the office, where all the morning we sat busy, among other things upon Mr Wood's performance of his contract for masts, wherein I was mightily concerned, but I think was found all along in the right, and shall my desire in it to the king's advantage. At noon all of us to dinner to Sir William Penn's were a very handsome dinner. Sir John Lawson, among others, and his lady and his daughter, a very pretty lady and of good deportment, with looking upon whom I was greatly pleased. Very naughty, Mr Peeps. The rest of the company of women were all of our own house, of no satisfaction or pleasure at all. Oh my goodness, my wife was not there, being not well enough, nor had any great uh mind. When I hear not well enough it worries me because I know she dies, I think when she's twenty nine, and it's so sad. But to see how Sir William Penn imitates me in everything, even in his having of his chimney piece in his dining room, the same with that in my wife's closet and in everything else, I perceive wherein he can. So think of the great man who founded Pennsylvania and all you know of William Penn, and most of you are actually from America, will think of his father and think of him copying Samuel Peeps in in all his house renovation ideas, but to see again how he was out in one compliment, he lets alone drinking any of the ladies' healths that were there, brackets my Lady Baton and Lawson, till he had begun with my Lady Carteret, who was absent, and that was well enough, and then Mr Coventry's mistress, at which he was ashamed and would not have had him drunk him trunk it, at least before the ladies present, but his policy, as he thought, was such that he would do it, so he's obviously shamed Mr Coventry by cheersing his mistress. After dinner by coach with Sir George so maybe M William Penn's father had lacked tact, is that it? After dinner by coach with Sir George Carteret and Sir John Menace by appointment to order to beals in Salisbury Court, and there we did with great content look over some old ledgers to see in what manner they were kept, and indeed it was in an extraordinary good method, and such as, at least out of design to keep them employed, I do persuade Sir John Menace to go upon, which will at least do so much good it may be, to keep them for want of something to do, from envying those that do something. I am very aware it's difficult to follow, but just drift off and do your d do your best is my advice. And that sounds really patronizing as though I'm understanding everything I'm not. I mean this is the third time now I've read this, but half the time I'm thinking, what does he quite mean there? But of course his diary, you know, he would have kept it not necessarily for it to be read in hundreds of years time, but just for his own in for his own well a bit like I'm recording this just for his own benefit. Let's finish with the eighth of January. Up and all the morning he doesn't say up betimes very sadly, and all morning at my office and with Sir John Menners, directing him and Mr Turner about keeping of their books according to yesterday's work, wherein I shall make them work enough. At noon to the change and there long, and from thence by appointment took Lewellyn, Mount, and William Simmons, and Mr Pierce, the surgeon home to dinner with me, and were merry, but Lord, to hear how William Simmons, or Simonds, does commend her and look sadly, and then talk borderly and merrily, though his wife was dead but the other day would make a dog laugh. Goodness, that's a great phrase. We have to learn that. I might put it in the title of this episode would make a dog laugh. We had great pleasure this afternoon, among other things, to talk of our own old passages together in Cromwell's time, and how Sir Willi and how William Simmons did make me laugh and wondered today when he told me how he had made shift to keep in, in good esteem and employment through eight governments in one year. That's interesting, the year sixteen fifty nine, which were, indeed, and he did name them. Page turn, he did name them all, and then failed unhappily in the ninth, viz. that of the king's coming in. Upon the change, great talk there was one Mr Tyrant, no trion, an old man, a merchant in Lyme Street, robbed last night, his man and maid being gone out after he was abed, and gagged and robbed of a hundred and no one thousand and fifty pounds in money, and about four thousand pounds in jewels which he had in the house as security for money. It is believed that his man by many circumstances, is guilty of confederacy by their ready going to his secret till in his desk, wherein the key of his ca cash chest lay. That's interesting about the key sorry, I mean I know the main point is this poor man's been robbed, but it's interesting about the jewels being kept in the house as security for money, and even now today you know that's why I suppose people have really beautiful jewellery and expensive art, it's a it's a backup, isn't it? Let's finish with one more so we can get really stuck back into peeps. Let's have a swig of tea first, don't you think? eleventh of January waked this morning by four o'clock by my wife to call the maids to their wash, and what through my sleeping so long last night and vexation for the lazy sluts lying so long against their great wash, neither my wife nor I could sleep one wink after that time till day, and then I rose by coach, just clock the phrase sleep one wink, it's interesting that how long how long ago that was used as a phrase, and then I rose and by coach, taking Captain Grove with me and three bottles of tent, which I sent to Mrs. Lane by my promise on Saturday last night. I wonder what tent was, to Whitehall, and there with the rest of our company to the Duke and did our business, and thence I to the tennis court till noon, and there saw several great matches played, and so by invitation to St. James's, where at Mr Coventry's chamber I dined with my Lord Barclay, Sir George Carteret, Sir Edward Turner, Sir Ellis Leyton, and one Mr Seymour, a fine gentleman, where admirable good discourse of all sorts, pleasant and serious, thence after dinner to Whitehall, where the Duke being busy at the guinea business, the Duke of Albermile, Sir William Ryder, Povey, Sir John Lawson and I to the Duke of Albermile's lodgings, and there did some business, and so to the court again, and I to the Duke of York's lodgings, where the Guinea Company, I don't know, is that New Guinea maybe he's talking about, are choosing their assistants for the next year by balloting. Thence by coach with Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, he sent me down at Cornhill, but lord, the simple discourse that all the way be had, he magnifying his great undertakings and cares that have been upon him for these last two years, and how he commanded the city to the content of all parties, when the loggerhead knows nothing, almost that is sense. Thence to the coffee house, whither comes Sir William Petty and Captain Grant, and we fell in talk, besides a young gentleman, I suppose a merchant, his name Mr Hill, that have travelled and I perceive is a master in most sorts of music and other things. We talked of music, the universal character, art of memory, Granger's counterfeiting of hands, and other most excellent discourses to my great content, having not been in so good company a great while, and had I time I should covet the acquaintance of that Mr Hill. This morning I stood by the king, arguing with a pretty Quaker woman that delivered to him a desire of hers in writing. The king showed her Sir John Minnes as a man of the fittest for her quaking religion, saying that his beard was the stiffest thing about him, and again merrily said, looking upon the length of her paper, that if all she desired was of that length, she might lose her desires, she modestly saying nothing till he began seriously to discourse with her, arguing the truth of his spirit against hers, she replying still with these words O king and thou'd him all along. That's fascinating, a fascinating insight into Charles. I I adore Charles. He he gets a really bad press these days, and he was terrible king, mainly because of the th the financial business, but in so many ways he was a wonderful king for what he wasn't, because you know you he could have come in an absolute tyrant, determined to have thorough revenge on all the people, including people like Peeps, who had had anything to do with the Cromwellian times. He could have had a real vindictive bent to him and there wouldn't have been much really. I mean everyone would have crowded around that as a policy and it it could have been hideous and uh i and it wasn't. And whilst he he was n you know, the finances of the country were were appalling, he he was funny, he was wise, intelligent, kind, genial, amiable, gentle, and d didn't he he he sort of had fools about him, but he sort of knew they were fools, so in that sense, didn't suffer fools. And I think maybe after the sort of recent r reviews of him or thoughts of him as an atrocious king, I think maybe there needs to be some revision, isn't it? It's a bit tedious how how kings go in and out of fashion. Like it's quite fashionable at the moment to to look at look at the goodness of Charles I, and I've got much less patience with him because he he didn't have all those kind qualities, you know. He people say things like, Well he was loyal to his friends and well yeah, okay, so I mean he di he did have a couple of good qualities, but he didn't have that sort of benevolent, warm, witty kindness that passed on to his rather sort of sexy attractive son. Oh dear, come on, Gretel, calm down. Barchester Towers Chapter eighteen The Widow's Persecution Early on the following morning Mr Slope was summoned to the bishop's dressing room and went there fully expecting that he should find his lordship very indignant and spirited up by his wife to repeat the rebuke which she had administered on the previous day. Mr Slope had resolved that at any rate from him he would not stand it, and entered the dressing room in rather a combative disposition, but he found the bishop in the most placid and gentlest of humours. His lordship complained of being rather unwell, had a slight headache, and was not quite the thing in his stomach, but there was nothing the matter with his temper. Oh slope, said he, taking the chaplain's proffered hand, Archdeacon Grantly is to call on me this morning, and I really am not fit to see him. I fear I must trouble you to see him for me. And then Dr. Proudie proceeded to explain what it was that must be said to Dr. Grantly. He was to be told, in fact, in the civilest words civilist, that the tidings could be conveyed that Mr Harding, having refused the wardenship, the appointment had been offered to Mr Quiverfull and accepted by him. Mr Slope again pointed out to his patron that he thought he was perhaps not quite wise in his decision, and this he did soto voque, but even with this precaution it was not safe to say much, and during the little that he did say the bishop made a very slight but still a very ominous gesture with his thumb towards the door which opened from his dressing room to some inner sanctuary. Mr Slope at once took the hint and said no more, but he perceived that there uh sorry, that there was to be confidence between him and his patron, that the league desired by him was to be made, and that this appointment of Mr Quiverfull was to be the last sacrifice offered on the altar of conjugal obedience. All of this Mr Slope read in the slight motion of the bishop's thumb, and he read it correctly. There was no need of parchments and seals of attestations, explanations, and professions. The bargain was understood between them, and Mr Slope gave the bishop his hand upon it. The bishop understood the little extra squeeze and an intelligible gleam of assent twinkled in his eye. Pray be civil to the archdeacon, Mr Slope, said he, out loud, but make him quite understand that in this matter Mr Harding has put it out of my power to oblige him. It would be a calumny on Mrs. Proudie to suggest that she was sitting in her bedroom with her ear at the keyhole during this interview. She had within her a spirit of decorum which prevented her from descending to such baseness. To put her ear to a keyhole or to listen at a chink was a trick for a housemaid. Mrs. Proudie knew this, and therefore she did not do it, but she stationed herself as near to the door and as she well could, that she might if possible get the advantage which the housemaid would have had without descending to the housemaid's artifice. It was little, however, that she heard, and that little was only sufficient to deceive her. She saw nothing of that friendly pressure, perceived nothing of that concluded bargain. She did not even dream of the treacherous resolves which these two false men had made together to upset her in the pride of her station, to dash the cup from her lip before she had drank of it, reference to Shakespeare, to sweep away all her power before she had tasted its sweets, traitors that they were, the husband of her bosom and the outcast whom she had fostered and brought to the warmth of the world's brightest fireside, but neither of them had the magnum magnanimity of this woman. Though two men have thus leagued themselves against her, even yet the battle is not lost. Mr Slope felt pretty sure that doctor Grantly would decline the honour of seeing him, and such turned out to be the case. The archdeacon, when the palace door was opened to him, was greeted by a note. Mr Slope presented his compliments, etc, etc. The bishop was ill in his room and very greatly regretted, etc, etc. Mr Slope had been charged with the bishop's views and, if agreeable to the archdeacon, would do himself the honour, etc, etc. The Archdeacon, however, was not agreeable, and having read his note in the hall, crumpled it up in his hand, and muttering something about sorrow for his lordship's illness, took his leave without sending as much as a verbal message in answer to Mr Slope's note. Ill, said the Archdeacon to himself, as he flung himself into his braum. I don't know if it's pronounced Braum, I think we've had this before. I think it is. We've had this, haven't we? It's a sort of carriage. The man is absolutely a coward. He is afraid to see me ill indeed. I'm so sorry I've forgotten what wouldn't what's the word? Voices I've given to these men. The archdeacon was never ill himself, and did not therefore understand that anyone else could in truth be prevented by illness from keeping an appointment. He regarded all such excuses as subterfuges, and in the present instance he was not far wrong. Dr. Grantly desired to be driven to his father in law's lodgings in the high street, and hearing from the servant that Mr Harding was at his daughter's, followed him to Mrs. Bold's house and there found him. The archdeacon was fuming with rage when he got into the drawing room. And had by this time nearly forgotten the pusillanimity of the bishop in the villainy of the chaplain. Look at that, said he, throwing Mr Slope's crumpled note to Mr Harding. I am to be told that if I chose I may have the honour of seeing Mr Slope, and that too after a positive engagement with the bishop. But he says the bishop is ill, said Mr Harding. Oh sure. You don't mean to say that you're deceived by such an excuse as that. He was well enough yesterday. Now I tell you what, I will see the bishop, and I will tell him also, very plainly what I think of his conduct. I will see him or else Barchester will soon be too hot to hold him. Eleanor was sitting in the room, but Dr. Grantly had hardly noticed her in his anger. Eleanor now said to him with the greatest innocence I wish you had seen Mr Slope, Dr. Grantly, because I think perhaps it might have done good. The Archdeacon turned on her with almost brutal wrath. Had she at once owned that she had accepted Mr Slope for a second husband, he could hardly have felt more convinced of her belonging body and soul to the Slope and Proudie party than he did now on hearing her express such a wish as this poor Eleanor. See him, said the Archdeac Deacon, glaring at her, and why am I to be called on to lower myself in the world's esteem, and by my own, by coming into contact with such a man as that? I have hitherto lived among gentlemen and do not mean to be dragged into other company by anybody. Poor Mr Harding well knew what the archdeacon meant, but Eleanor was as innocent as her own baby. She could not understand how the archdeacon could consider himself to be dragged into bad company by condescending to speak to Mr Slope for a few minutes, when the interests of her father might be served by his doing so. I was talking for a full hour yesterday to Mr Slope, said she, with some little assumption of dignity, and I did not find myself lowered by it. Perhaps not, said he, but if you'll be good enough to allow me, I shall judge for myself in such matters, and I tell you what, Eleanor, it will be much better for you if you will allow yourself to be guided also by the advice of those who are your friends, and if you do not you'll be apt to find that you have no friends left. Who can advise you? Eleanor blushed up to the roots of her hair, but even now she had not the slightest idea of what was passing in the archdeacon's mind. No thought of love making or love receiving had yet found its way to her heart since the death of poor John Bold, and if it were possible that such a thought should spring there, the man must be far different from Mr Slope that could give it birth. Ah, poor Mr Slope with his goggle eyes. Nevertheless, Eleanor blushed deeply, for she felt she was charged with improper conduct, and she did so with the more inward pain because her father did not instantly rally to her side, that father for whose sake and love she had submitted to be the receptacle of Mr Slope's confidence. She had given a detailed account of all that had passed to her father, and though he had not absolutely agreed with her about Mr Slope's views touching the hospital, yet he had said nothing to make her think that she had been wrong in talking to him. She was far too angry to humble herself before her brother in law. Indeed, she had never accustomed herself to be very abject before him, and they had never been confidential allies. I do not le the least understand what you mean, Dr. Grantly, said she. I do not know that I can accuse myself of doing anything that my friends should disapprove. Mr Slope called here expressly to ask what papa's wishes were about the hospital, and as I believe he called with friendly intentions, I told him. Friendly intentions, sneered the archdeacon. I believe you greatly wrong, Mr Slope, continued Eleanor, but I have explained this to papa already, and as you do not seem to approve of what I say, doctor Grantly, I will, with your permission, leave you and papa together. And so saying she walked slowly out of the room. You go, Eleanor. Right, sorry, I'm so sorry. I've got to stop talking. All this made Mr Harding very unhappy. It was quite clear that the archdeacon and his wife had made up their minds that Eleanor was going to marry Mr Slope. Mr Harding couldn't have he could not really bring himself to think that she would do so, but yet he would not deny that circumstances made it appear that the man's company was not disagreeable to her. She was now constantly seeing him and yet she received visits from no other unmarried gentleman. She always took his part when his conduct was canvassed, although she was aware how personally objectable he objectionable he was to her friends. Then again Mr Harding felt that if she should choose to become Mrs Slope, he had nothing that could justly urge against her doing so. She had full right to please herself, and he, as a father, could not say that she would disagree disgrace herself by marrying a clergyman who stood so well before the world as Mr Slope did, as for quarrelling with his daughter on account of such a marriage and separating himself from her as the archdeacon had threatened to do, that, with Mr Harding, would be out of the question. If she should determine to marry this man he must get over his aversion as best he could. His Eleanor, his old own companion in their old happy home, must still be the friend of his bosom, the child of his heart that's so lovely. Yet sorry, let who would cast her off he would not if it were fated that he should have to sit in his old age at the same table with that man whom of all men he disliked the most, he would meet his fate as best he might. Anything to him would be preferable to the loss of his daughter. Such being his feelings he hardly knew how to take part with Eleanor against the Archdeacon, or with the Archdeacon against Eleanor. It will be said that he should never have suspected her alas, he should never have done so, but Mr Harding was by no means a perfect character. In his indecision, his weakness, his proneness to be led by others, his want of self confidence he was very far from being perfect, and then it must be remembered that such a marriage as that, which the Archdeacon contemplated with disgust, which we, who know Mr Slope so well, would regard with equal disgust, did not appear so monstrous to Mr Harding, because in his charity he did not hate the chaplain as the archdeacon did, and as we do, as very presumptuous Mr Trollope. He was, however, very unhappy when his daughter left the room, and he had recourse to an old trick of his that was customary to him in his times of sadness. He began playing some slow tune upon an imaginary vine cello, drawing one drawing one hand slowly backwards and forwards as though he held a bow in it, and modulating the unreal chords with the other I can't think of anything more strange or likely to annoy someone than you're talking to someone and you're furious and they start playing an imaginary violin. Goodness She'll marry that man as sure as two and two makes four, said the practical archdeacon. Now I have to leave it there 'cause I've got to nip out and go and see some beloved people who I love very much at five o'clock and I've only got a few minutes. So what I'm going to do is publish this and I'm really hoping I've got the energy to record a literary episode later where we can read Villette. So please join me later. Please keep supporting me and if you haven't already I would be so grateful especially if you use Apple as your platform, Apple Podcasts to if possible I know it's really rude to ask a five star my my rating has gone to four point one. It at one point it was four point eight and I think the problem is people discover it thinking it's going to be you know polished and about history and then they hear me talking about dogs and sparrows oh my goodness what else and they think right I'm gonna give her a one so if you could be bothered I'd be so grateful because I think if I did start going down to like three or two I I don't know that I'd be able to carry on because I'd just be too embarrassed. So I think that's my daughter coming back so I've got to go. Thank you so much for joining me and hope to see you later. Lots of love bye