Think what it would be to have all the
Crawleys in our house for ever, and all their debts, and all their
disgrace!"
"I do not know that they have ever been disgraced."
"You'll see. The whole county has heard of the affair of this
twenty pounds. Look at that dear girl upstairs, who has been such a
comfort to us. Do you think it would be fit that she and her
husband should meet such a one as Grace Crawley at our table?"
"I don't think it would do them a bit of harm," said Mrs
Grantly. "But there would be no chance of that, seeing that
Griselda's husband never comes to us."
"He was here the year before last."
"And I never was so tired of a man in all my life."
"Then you prefer the Crawleys, I suppose. This is what you get
from Eleanor's teaching." Eleanor was the dean's wife, and Mrs
Grantly's younger sister. "It has always been a sorrow to me that I
ever brought Arabin into the diocese."
"I never asked you to bring him, archdeacon. But nobody was so
glad as you when he proposed to Eleanor."
"Well, the long and short of it is this, I shall tell Henry
to-night that if he makes a fool of himself with this girl, he must
not look to me any longer for an income. He has about six hundred a
year of his own, and if he chooses to throw himself away, he had
better go and live in the south of France, or in Canada, or where
he pleases. He shan't come here."
"I hope he won't marry the girl, with all my heart," said Mrs
Grantly.
"He had better not. By heavens, he had better not!"
"But if he does, you'll be the first to forgive him."
On hearing this the archdeacon slammed the door, and retired to
his washing apparatus. At the present moment he was very angry with
his wife, but then he was so accustomed to such anger, and was so
well aware that it in truth meant nothing, that it did not make him
unhappy. The archdeacon and Mrs Grantly had now been man and wife
for more than a quarter of a century and had never in truth
quarrelled. He had the most profound respect for her judgment, and
the most implicit reliance on her conduct. She had never yet
offended him, or caused him to repent the hour in which he had made
her Mrs Grantly. But she had come to understand that she might use
a woman's privilege with her tongue; and she used it,—not
altogether to his comfort. On the present occasion he was the more
annoyed because he felt that she might be right. "It would be a
positive disgrace, and I never would see him again," he said to
himself. And yet as he said it, he knew that he would not have the
strength of character to carry him through a prolonged quarrel with
his son. "I never would see her,—never, never!" he said to himself.
"And then such an opening as he might have at his sister's
house!"
Major Grantly had been a successful man in life,—with the one
exception of having lost the mother of his child within a
twelvemonth of his marriage and within a few hours of that child's
birth. He had served in India as a very young man, and had been
decorated with the Victoria Cross. Then he had married a lady with
some money, and had left the active service of the army, with the
concurring advice of his own family and that of his wife. He had
taken a small place in his father's county, but the wife for whose
comfort he had taken it had died before she was permitted to see
it. Nevertheless he had gone to reside there, hunting a good deal
and farming a little, making himself popular in the district, and
keeping up the good name of Grantly in a successful way,
till—alas,—it had seemed good to him to throw those favouring eyes
on poor Grace Crawley. His wife had now been dead just two years,
and he was still under thirty; no one could deny it would be right
that he should marry again. No one did deny it. His father had
hinted that he ought to do so, and had generously whispered that if
some little increase to the major's present income were needed, he
might possibly be able to do something. "What is the good of
keeping it?" the archdeacon had said in liberal after-dinner
warmth; "I only want it for your brother and yourself." The brother
was a clergyman.
And the major's mother had strongly advised him to marry again
without loss of time. "My dear Henry," she had said, "you'll never
be younger, and youth does go for something. As for dear little
Edith, being a girl, she is almost no impediment.
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