Mr.Thumble was a little man, about forty years of age, who had a wife and children living in Barchester, and who existed on such chance clerical crumbs as might fall from the table of the bishop's patronage.

People in Barchester said that Mrs.Thumble was a cousin of Mrs.Proudie's; but as Mrs.Proudie stoutly denied the connection, it may be supposed that the people of Barchester were wrong.

And, had Mr.Thumble's wife in truth been a cousin, Mrs.Proudie would surely have provided for him during the many years in which the diocese had been in her hands.
No such provision had been made, and Mr.Thumble, who had now been living in the diocese for three years, had received nothing else from the bishop than such chance employment as this which he was now to undertake at Hogglestock.

He was a humble, mild-voiced man, when within the palace precincts, and had so far succeeded in making his way among his brethren in the cathedral city as to be employed not unfrequently for absent minor canons in chanting the week-day services, being remunerated for his work at the rate of about two shillings and sixpence a service.
The bishop handed his letter to his wife, observing in an off-hand kind of way that she might as well see what he said.

"Of course I shall read it," said Mrs.Proudie.And the bishop winced visibly, because Mr.Thumble was present.