I quite feel that an apology is due for beginning a novel with two long dull chapters full of description.

I quite feel that an apology is due for beginning a novel with two long dull chapters full of description. I am perfectly aware of the danger of such a course. In so doing I sin against the golden rule which requires us all to put our best foot foremost, the wisdom of which is fully recognised by novelists, myself among the number. It can hardly be expected that any one will consent to go through with a fiction that offers so little of allurement in its first pages; but twist it as I will I cannot do otherwise. I find that I cannot make poor Mr Gresham hem and haw and turn himself uneasily in his arm-chair in a natural manner till I have said why he is uneasy. I cannot bring in my doctor speaking his mind freely among the bigwigs till I have explained that it is in accordance with his usual character to do so. This is unartistic on my part, and shows want of imagination as well as want of skill. Whether or not I can atone for these faults by straightforward, simple, plain story-telling—that, indeed, is very doubtful.

Anthony Trollope, Doctor Thorne

Indeed. I had just finished those long, boring chapters and was mentally reviewing the much faster start of The Warden and Barchester Towers, the first two books in the series. And then this came along. I had to laugh and forgive him, however annoyed I was. And I was annoyed. I now expect a rousingly good tale.