“I am so glad you’ve come—that is, if you’ve brought my spectacles,” said Lady Julia.
“My pockets are crammed with spectacles,” said Johnny.
“And when are you coming to me?”
“I was thinking of Tuesday.”
“No; don’t come till Wednesday. But I mean Monday. No; Monday won’t do. Come on Tuesday—early, and drive me out. And now tell us the news.”
Johnny swore that there was no news. He made a brave attempt to be gay and easy before Lily; but he failed, and he knew that he failed—and he knew that she knew that he failed. “Mamma will be so glad to see you,” said Lily. “I suppose you haven’t seen Bell yet?”
“I only got to Guestwick yesterday afternoon,” said he.
“And it will be so nice our having Grace at the Small House;—won’t it? Uncle Christopher has quite taken a passion for Grace—so that I am hardly anybody now in the Allington world.”
“By the by,” said Johnny, “I came down here with a friend of yours, Grace.”
“A friend of mine?” said Grace.
“So he says, and he is at Allington at this moment. He passed me in a gig going there.”
“And what was his name?” Lily asked.
“I have not the remotest idea,” said Johnny. “He is a man about my own age, very good-looking, and apparently very well able to take care of himself. He is shortsighted, and holds a glass in one eye when he looks out of a carriage-window. That’s all that I know about him.”
Grace Crawley’s face had become suffused with blushes at the first mention of the friend and the gig; but then Grace blushed very easily. Lily knew all about it at once;—at once divined who must be the friend in the gig, and was almost beside herself with joy. Lady Julia, who had heard no more of the major than had Johnny, was still clever enough to perceive that the friend must be a particular friend—for she had noticed Miss Crawley’s blushes. And Grace herself had no doubt as to the man. The picture of her lover, with the glass in his eye as he looked out of the window, had been too perfect to admit of a doubt. In her distress she put out her hand and took hold of Lily’s dress.
“And you say he is at Allington now?” said Lily.
“I have no doubt he is at the Small House at this moment,” said Johnny.
XXVIII
Showing How Major Grantly Took a Walk
Major Grantly drove his gig into the yard of the Red Lion at Allington, and from thence walked away at once to Mrs. Dale’s house. When he reached the village he had hardly made up his mind as to the way in which he would begin his attack; but now, as he went down the street, he resolved that he would first ask for Mrs. Dale. Most probably he would find himself in the presence of Mrs. Dale and her daughter, and of Grace also, at his first entrance; and if so, his position would be awkward enough. He almost regretted now that he had not written to Mrs. Dale, and asked for an interview. His task would be very difficult if he should find all the ladies together. But he was strong in the feeling that when his purpose was told it would meet the approval at any rate of Mrs. Dale; and he walked boldly on, and bravely knocked at the door of the Small House, as he had already learned that Mrs. Dale’s residence was called by all the neighbourhood. Nobody was at home, the servant said; and then, when the visitor began to make further inquiry, the girl explained that the two young ladies had walked as far as Guestwick Cottage, and that Mrs. Dale was at this moment at the Great House with the squire. She had gone across soon after the young ladies had started. The maid, however, was interrupted before she had finished telling all this to the major, by finding her mistress behind her in the passage. Mrs. Dale had returned, and had entered the house from the lawn.
“I am here now, Jane,” said Mrs. Dale, “if the gentleman wishes to see me.”
Then the major announced himself. “My name is Major Grantly,” said he; and he was blundering on with some words about his own intrusion, when Mrs. Dale begged him to follow her into the drawing-room. He had muttered something to the effect that Mrs. Dale would not know who he was; but Mrs. Dale knew all about him, and had heard the whole of Grace’s story from Lily. She and Lily had often discussed the question whether, under existing circumstances, Major Grantly should feel himself bound to offer his hand to Grace, and the mother and daughter had differed somewhat on the matter. Mrs. Dale had held that he was not so bound, urging that the unfortunate position in which Mr. Crawley was placed was so calamitous to all connected with him, as to justify any man, not absolutely engaged, in abandoning the thoughts of such a marriage. Mrs. Dale had spoken of Major Grantly’s father and mother and brother and sister, and had declared her opinion that they were entitled to consideration. But Lily had opposed this idea very stoutly, asserting that in an affair of love a man should think neither of father or brother or mother or sister.
“If he is worth anything,” Lily had said, “he will come to her now—now in her trouble; and will tell her that she at least has got a friend who will be true to her. If he does that, then I shall think that there is something of the poetry and nobleness of love left.”
In answer to this Mrs. Dale had
