It was managed excellently, and Mr.Slope was invaluable.
At half-past nine the bishop and his wife and their three daughters entered the great reception-room, and very grand and very solemn they were.

Mr.Slope was downstairs giving the last orders about the wine.

He well understood that curates and country vicars with their belongings did not require so generous an article as the dignitaries of the close.

There is a useful gradation in such things, and Marsala at 20s.

a dozen did very well for the exterior supplementary tables in the corner.
"Bishop," said the lady, as his lordship sat himself down, "don't sit on that sofa, if you please; it is to be kept separate for a lady." The bishop jumped up and seated himself on a cane-bottomed chair.
"A lady ?" he inquired meekly; "do you mean one particular lady, my dear ?" "Yes, Bishop, one particular lady," said his wife, disdaining to explain.
"She has got no legs, Papa," said the youngest daughter, tittering.
"No legs!" said the bishop, opening his eyes.
"Nonsense, Netta, what stuff you talk," said Olivia.