who asks
to see you."

"A gentleman, Mrs. Robarts! What gentleman?" But Grace, though she
asked the question, conceived that the gentleman must be Henry
Grantly. Her mind did not suggest to her the possibility of any other
gentleman coming to see her.

"You must not be surprised, or allow yourself to be frightened."

"Oh, Mrs. Robarts, who is it?"

"It is Major Grantly's father."

"The archdeacon?"

"Yes, dear; Archdeacon Grantly. He is in the drawing-room."

"Must I see him, Mrs. Robarts?"

"Well, Grace--I think you must. I hardly know how you can refuse. He
is an intimate friend of everybody here at Framley."

"What will he say to me?"

"Nay; that I cannot tell. I suppose you know--"

"He has come, no doubt, to bid me have nothing to say to his son. He
need not have troubled himself. But he may say what he likes. I am no
coward, and I will go to him."

"Stop a moment, Grace. Come into my room for an instant. The children
have pulled your hair about." But Grace, though she followed Mrs
Robarts into the bedroom, would have nothing done to her hair. She
was too proud for that,--and we may say, also, too little confident
in any good which such resources might effect on her behalf. "Never
mind about that," she said. "What am I to say to him?" Mrs. Robarts
paused before she replied, feeling that the matter was one which
required some deliberation. "Tell me what I must say to him?" said
Grace, repeating her question.

"I hardly know what your own feelings are, my dear."

"Yes, you do. You do know. If I had all the world to give, I would
give it all to Major Grantly."

"Tell him that, then."

"No, I will not tell him that. Never mind about my frock, Mrs
Robarts. I do not care for that. I will tell him that I love his
son and his granddaughter too well to injure them. I will tell him
nothing else. I might as well go now." Mrs. Robarts, as she looked at
Grace, was astonished at the serenity of her face. And yet when her
hand was on the drawing-room door Grace hesitated, looked back, and
trembled. Mrs. Robarts blew a kiss to her from the stairs; and then
the door was opened, and the girl found herself in the presence of
the archdeacon. He was standing on the rug, with his back to the
fire, and his heavy ecclesiastical hat was placed on the middle of
the round table. The hat caught Grace's eye at the moment of her
entrance, and she felt that all the thunders of the Church were
contained within it. And then