The bishop, however, was comparatively easy to deal with; and before the arrival of the other, the dutiful son had persuaded his father that all was going on well, and then the warden arrived.
It was Mr. Harding's wont, whenever he spent a morning at the palace, to seat himself immediately at the bishop's elbow, the bishop occupying a huge arm-chair fitted up with candlesticks, a reading table, a drawer, and other paraphernalia, the position of which chair was never moved, summer or winter; and when, as was very usual, the archdeacon was there also, he confronted the two elders, who thus were enabled to fight the battle against him together; and together submit to defeat, for such was their constant fate.
Our warden now took his accustomed place, having greeted his son-in-law as he entered, and then affectionately inquired after his friend's health. There was a gentleness about the bishop to which the soft womanly affection of Mr. Harding particularly endeared itself, and it was quaint to see how the two mild old priests pressed each other's hands, and smiled and made little signs of love.
"Sir Abraham's opinion has come at last," began the archdeacon. Mr. Harding had heard so much, and was most anxious to know the result.
"It is quite favourable," said the bishop, pressing his friend's arm. "I am so glad."
Mr. Harding looked at the mighty bearer of the important news for confirmation of these glad tidings.
"Yes," said the archdeacon, "Sir Abraham has given most minute attention to the case; indeed, I knew he would;—most minute attention, and his opinion is—and as to his opinion on such a subject being correct, no one who knows Sir Abraham's character, can doubt—his opinion is, that they hav'n't got a leg to stand on."
