There were many younger men with whom he was very intimate--Frank Gresham, for instance, and Lord Lufton himself; but this was an affair which he hardly knew who to discuss with a young man. To Dr Thorne he thought that he could bring himself to tell the whole story.
In the evening there came to him a message from Plumstead, with a letter from his father and some present for the child. He knew at once that the present had been thus sent as an excuse for the letter. His father might have written by the post, or course; but that would have given to his letter a certain air and tone which he had not wished it to bear. After some message from the major's mother, and some allusion to Edith, the archdeacon struck off upon the matter that was near his heart.
'I fear it is all up with that unfortunate man at Hogglestock,' he said.
'From what I hear of the evidence which came out before the magistrates, there can, I think, be no doubt as to his guilt. Have you heard that the bishop sent over on the following day to stop him from preaching? He did so, and sent again on the Sunday. But Crawley would not give way, and so far I respect the man; for, as a matter of course, whatever the bishop did, or attempted to do, he would do with an extreme bad taste, probably with gross ignorance as to his own duty and as to the duty of the man under him. I am told that on the first day Crawley turned out of his house the messenger sent to him--some stray clergyman whom Mrs Proudie keeps in the house; and that on Sunday the stairs to the reading-desk and pulpit were occupied by a lot of brickmakers, among whom the parson from Barchester did not venture to attempt to make his way, although he was fortified by the presence of one of the cathedral vergers and by one of the palace footmen. As for the rest, I have no doubt it is all true.
I pity Crawley from my heart. Poor, unfortunate man! The general opinion seems to be that he is not in truth responsible for what he does. As for his victory over the bishop, nothing on earth could be better.
'Your mother particularly wishes you to come over to us before the end of the week, and to bring Edith. Your grandfather will be here, and he is becoming so infirm that he will never come to us for another Christmas. Of course you will stay for the new year.'
Though the letter was full of Mr Crawley and his affairs there was not a word about Grace. This, however, was quite natural. Major Grantly perfectly well understood his father's anxiety to carry his point without seeming to allude to the disagreeable subject. 'My father is very clever,' he said to himself, 'very clever. But he isn't so clever but one can see how clever he is.'
On the next day he went into Silverbridge, intending to call on Miss Prettyman; nor was he called upon to do so, as he never got as far as that lady's house. While walking up the High Street he saw Mrs Thorne in her carriage, and, as a matter of course, he stopped to speak to her. He knew Mrs Thorne quite as intimately as he did her husband, and liked her quite as well. 'Major Grantly,' she said, speaking out loud to him, half across the street; 'I was very angry with you yesterday. Why did you not come up to dinner? We had a room ready for you and everything.'
'I was not quite well, Mrs Thorne.'
'Fiddlestick. Don't tell me of not being well. There was Emily breaking her heart about you.'
'I'm sure, Miss Dunstable--'
'To tell you the truth, I think she'll get over it. It won't be mortal with her. But do tell me, Major Grantly, what are we to think about this poor Mr Crawley? It was so good of you to be one of his bailsmen.'
'He would have found twenty in Silverbridge, if he had wanted them.'
