Page:The Last Chronicle of Barset Vol 2.djvu/364

328 Posy, "because he said he would never see the big fiddle again." "That comes of his being a little melancholy like, my dear," said Mrs. Baxter.

Mrs. Grantly at this time went into Barchester almost every day, and the archdeacon, who was very often in the city, never went there without passing half-an-hour with the old man. These two clergymen, essentially different in their characters and in every detail of conduct, had been so much thrown together by circumstances that the life of each had almost become a part of the life of the other. Although the fact of Mr. Harding's residence at the deanery had of late years thrown him oftener into the society of the dean than that of his other son-in-law, yet his intimacy with the archdeacon had been so much earlier, and his memories of the archdeacon were so much clearer, that he depended almost more upon the rector of Plumstead, who was absent, than he did upon the dean, whom he customarily saw every day. It was not so with his daughters. His Nelly, as he had used to call her, had ever been his favourite, and the circumstances of their joint lives had been such, that they had never been further separated than from one street of Barchester to another,—and that only for the very short period of the married life of Mrs. Arabin's first husband. For all that was soft and tender therefore,—which with Mr. Harding was all in the world that was charming to him,—he looked to his youngest daughter; but for authority and guidance and wisdom, and for information as to what was going on in the world, he had still turned to his son-in-law the archdeacon,—as he had done for nearly forty years. For so long had the archdeacon been potent as a clergyman in the diocese, and throughout the whole duration of such potency his word had been law to Mr. Harding in most of the affairs of life,—a law generally to be obeyed, and if sometimes to be broken, still a law. And now, when all was so nearly over, he would become unhappy if the archdeacon's visits were far between. Dr. Grantly, when he found that this was so, would not allow that they should be far between.

"He puts me so much in mind of my father," the archdeacon said to his wife one day.

"He is not so old as your father was when he died, by many years," said Mrs. Grantly, "and I think one sees that difference."

"Yes;—and therefore I say that he may still live for years. My father, when he took to his bed at last, was manifestly near his death. The wonder with him was that he continued to live so long. Do you not remember how the London doctor was put out because his prophecies were not fulfilled?"