BARCHESTER TOWERS
"Translations are occasionally made," said Dr. Proudie; "but not so frequently as in former days."
"They've cut them all down to pretty nearly the same figure, haven't they?" said Bertie.
To this the bishop could not bring himself to make any answer, but again attempted to move the rector.
"But the work, I suppose, is different?" continued Bertie. "Is there much to do here, at Barchester?" This was said exactly in the tone that a young Admiralty clerk might use in asking the same question of a brother acolyte at the Treasury.
"The work of a bishop of the Church of England," said Dr. Proudie, with considerable dignity, "is not easy. The responsibility which he has to bear is very great indeed."
"Is it?" said Bertie, opening wide his wonderful blue eyes. "Well; I never was afraid of responsibility. I once had thoughts of being a bishop, myself."
"Had thoughts of being a bishop!" said Dr. Proudie, much amazed.
"That is, a parson—a parson first, you know, and a bishop afterwards. If I had once begun, I'd have stuck to it. But, on the whole, I like the Church of Rome the best."
The bishop could not discuss the point, so he remained silent. "Now, there's my father," continued Bertie; "he hasn't stuck to it. I fancy he didn't like saying the same thing over so often. By the bye, Bishop, have you seen my father?"
The bishop was more amazed than ever. Had he seen his father? "No," he replied; "he had not yet had the pleasure: he hoped he might;" and, as he said so, he resolved to bear heavy on that fat, immovable rector, if ever he had the power of doing so.
"He's in the room somewhere," said Bertie, "and he'll turn up soon. By the bye, do you know much about the Jews?"
At last the bishop saw a way out. "I beg your pardon," said he; "but I'm forced to go round the room."
"Well—I believe I'll follow in your wake," said Bertie. "Terribly hot—isn't it?" This he addressed to the fat rector with whom he had brought himself into the closest contact.
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