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The Churchwarden
by lantana2
 Speculation on as to the authors of the letters received by Bishop Cyril inspired this Trollopesque Chronicle of Borsetshire:
"A Hindoo! Surely, my lord, you have not given your consent to such a union? It is plainly against the Scriptures."
Bishop Cyril reluctantly turned from the window of the Palace to meet the angry countenance of his spouse.
"I assure you, my dear, that I have been mindful of Holy Writ. The words of St Paul himself tell us ..."
"But have you interpreted them correctly, my lord? Have you consulted the Commentaries of the learned Dr Starkey upon the same? Beware, my lord, of misreading what is intended."
Bishop Cyril reflected ruefully that he had once followed the Saint's counsel that it was better to marry than to burn, without considering that Paul had never met the future Mrs Proudie.
"I am sorely disappointed in the Reverend Mr Franks," continued the Bishop's wife. "My own - that is to say - your own appointment, my lord, appointed to raise many issues within the parish, yet what has he done beyond consort with an unbeliever?"
"I am afraid, my dear, that his initial work with the homeless was not well received by his congregation, or er, the wider community that takes an interest in that parish."
"The wider community indeed!" snorted Mrs Proudie. "‘like to horse and mule’, as the Psalmist says, ‘which have no understanding; whose mouths must be held with bit and bridle lest they fall upon thee’. Meantimes," she continued, "I have read the letters which you left for me upon your desk, and which I trust have recalled you to your duty in this matter."
Bishop Cyril opened his mouth, but his wife continued. "One is from the Churchwarden of St Stephen's - clearly a woman of the highest moral rectitude, dedicated to her parish work. A good friend, I understand, to the last incumbent; I imagine the Churchwarden as always available to the needy, perhaps performing some small services to assist the local physician, frequently upon her knees ..."
Memories of the last incumbent and local physicians here caused Bishop Cyril to interrupt his wife's monologue with a cough.
Mrs Proudie frowned and continued. "And another here from a worthy matron of the parish. One can only imagine the distress necessary to cause such a woman to comment on the affairs of her neighbours. She writes of the moral danger to her children. Surely the Reverend Mr Franks might, for example, have considered marriage with the daughter of such a respectable woman - no doubt an unselfish maiden who would have graced the Rectory with the virtues of temperance and prudence. Well, that is not to be. Pray, my lord, what do you intend to do to resolve this sorry matter?"
The Bishop muttered something in which the words ‘luncheon’ and ‘opportunity to discuss’ could be discerned.
"On what date, my lord? Why, that is the selfsame day I have invited these ladies to the Palace!"
Read lantana's previous .
More parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon
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