Coming out of the church, Grace was introduced to the old squire. He was a thin, old man, with grey hair, and the smallest possible grey whiskers, with a dry, solemn face; not carrying in his outward gait much of the customary jollity for Christmas. He took his hat off to Grace, and said some word to her as to hoping to have the pleasure of seeing her at dinner. It sounded very cold to her, and she became at once afraid of him. 'I wish I was not going,' she said to Lily, again. 'Iknow he thinks I ought not to go. I shall be so thankful if you will but let me stay.'
'Don't be foolish, Grace. It all comes from your not knowing him, or understanding him. And how should you understand him? I give you my word that I would tell you if I did not know that he wishes you to go.'
She had to go. 'Of course I haven't a dress fit. How should I?' she said to Lily. 'How wrong it is of me to put myself up in such a thing as this.'
'Your dress is beautiful, child. We are none of us going in evening dresses. Pray believe me that I will not make you do wrong. If you won't trust me, can't you trust mamma?'
Of course she went. When the three ladies entered the drawing-room of the Great House, they found that Lady Julia had arrived just before them. Lady Julia immediately took hold of Lily, and had her apart, having a word or two to say about the clerk at the Income-tax Office. Iam not sure but what the dear old woman sometimes said a few more words than were expedient, with a view to the object which she had so closely at heart. 'John is to be with us the first week in February,' she said.
'I suppose you'll see him before that, as he'll probably be with his mother a few days before he comes to me.''
'I daresay we shall see him quite in time, Lady Julia,' said Lily.
'Now, Lily, don't be ill-natured.'
'I'm the most good-natured young woman alive, Lady Julia; and as for Johnny, he is always as welcome at the Small House as violets in March.
Mamma purrs about him when he comes, asking all manner of flattering questions as though he were a cabinet minister at least, and I always admire some little knickknack that he has got, a new ring, or a stud, or a button. There isn't another man in all the world whose buttons I'd look at.'
'It isn't his buttons, Lily.'
'Ah, that's just it. I can go as far as his buttons. But, come, Lady Julia, this is Christmas-time, and Christmas should be a holiday.'
In the meantime Mrs Dale was occupied with her married daughter and her son-in-law, and the squire had attached himself to poor Grace. 'You have never been in this part of the country before, Miss Crawley,' he said.
'No, sir.'
'It is rather pretty just about here, and Guestwick Manor is a fine place in its way, but we have not so much natural beauty as you have in Barsetshire. Chaldicote Chase is, I think, as pretty as anything in England.'
'I never saw Chaldicote Chase, sir. It isn't pretty at all at Hogglestock, where we live.'
'Ah, I forgot. No; it is not very pretty at Hogglestock. That's where the bricks come from.'
'Papa is clergyman at Hogglestock.'
'Yes, yes; I remember. Your father is a great scholar. I have often heard of him. I am sorry he should be distressed by this charge they have made. But it will all come right in the assizes. They always get at the truth there. I used to be intimate with a clergyman in Barsetshire of the name of Grantly' --Grace felt that her ears were tingling, and that her face was red--'Archdeacon Grantly. His father was bishop of the diocese.'
'Yes, sir. Archdeacon Grantly lives at Plumstead.'
'I was staying once with an old friend of mine, Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, who lives close to Plumstead, and saw a good deal of them. I remember thinking Henry Grantly was a very nice lad. He married afterwards.'
'Yes sir; but his wife is dead now, and he has got a little girl --Edith Grantly.'
'Is there no other child?'
'No sir; only Edith.'
'You know him, then?'
'Yes sir; I know Major Grantly--and Edith. I never saw Archdeacon Grantly.'
'Then, my dear, you never saw a very famous pillar of the Church. Iremember when people used to talk a great deal about Archdeacon Grantly;but when his time came to be made a bishop, he was not sufficiently new-fangled; and so he got passed by. He is much better off as he is, Ishould say. Bishops have to work very hard, my dear.'
'Do they, sir?'
'So they tell me. And the archdeacon is a wealthy man. So Henry Grantly has got an only daughter? I hope she is a nice child, for Iremember liking him well.'
'She is a very nice child, indeed Mr Dale. She could not be nicer. And she is so lovely.' Then Mr Dale looked into his young companion's face, struck by the sudden animation of her words, and perceived for the first time that she was very pretty.
After this Grace became accustomed to the strangeness of the faces round her, and managed to eat her dinner without much perturbation of spirit.
