here, and
Henry with you, you would have made a great deal worse job of it than
I have done," said the archdeacon.

"I don't say you have made a bad job of it, my dear," said Mrs
Grantly. "But it's past eight, and you must be terribly in want of
your dinner. Had you not better go and dress?"

In the evening the plan of the future campaign was arranged between
them. The archdeacon would not write to his son at all. In passing
through Barchester he had abandoned his idea of despatching a note
from the hotel, feeling that such a note as would be required was
not easily written in a hurry. Mrs. Grantly would now write to her
son, telling him that circumstances had changed, that it would be
altogether unnecessary for him to sell his furniture, and begging
him to come over and see his father without a day's delay. She wrote
her letter that night, and read to the archdeacon all that she had
written,--with the exception of the postscript:--"You may be quite
sure that there will be no unpleasantness with your father." That was
the postscript which was not communicated to the archdeacon.

On the third day after that Henry Grantly did come over to Plumstead.
His mother in her letter to him had not explained how it had come to
pass that the sale of his furniture would be unnecessary. His father
had given him to understand distinctly that his income would be
withdrawn from him unless he would express his intention of giving
up Miss Crawley; and it had been admitted among them all that Cosby
Lodge must be abandoned if this were done. He certainly would not
give up Grace Crawley. Sooner than that, he would give up every
stick in his possession, and go an live in New Zealand if it were
necessary. Not only had Grace's conduct to him made him thus firm,
but the natural bent of his own disposition had tended that way also.
His father had attempted to dictate to him, and sooner than submit to
that he would sell the coat off his back. Had his father confined his
opposition to advice, and had Miss Crawley been less firm in her view
of her duty, the major might have been less firm also. But things
had so gone that he was determined to be fixed as granite. If others
would not be moved from their resolves, neither would he. Such being
the state of his mind, he could not understand why he was thus
summoned to Plumstead. He had already written over to Pau about his
house, and it was well that he should, at any rate, see his mother
before he s