She said you could do nothing for her." "And does she think her husband guilty ?" "No, indeed.

She think him guilty! Nothing on earth,--or from heaven either, as I take it, would make her suppose it to be possible.

She came to me simply to tell me how good he was." "I love her for that," said Mrs.Walker.
"So did I.But what is the good of loving her?
Thank you, dearest.
I'll get your slippers for you some day, perhaps." The whole county was astir in this matter of this alleged guilt of the Reverend Josiah Crawley,--the whole county, almost as keenly as the family of Mr.Walker, of Silverbridge.

The crime laid to his charge was the theft of a cheque for twenty pounds, which he was said to have stolen out of a pocket-book left or dropped in his house, and to have passed as money into the hands of one Fletcher, a butcher of Silverbridge, to whom he was indebted.

Mr.Crawley was in those days the perpetual curate of Hogglestock, a parish in the northern extremity of East Barsetshire; a man known by all who knew anything of him to be very poor,--an unhappy, moody, disappointed man, upon whom the troubles of the world always seemed to come with a double weight.