am sure of it," said the major.

"All this, however, matters nothing," said Mr. Crawley, "and all
speech on such homely matters would amount to an impertinence before
you, sir, were it not that you have hinted at a purpose of connecting
yourself at some future time with this unfortunate family."

"I meant to be plain-spoken, Mr. Crawley."

"I did not mean to insinuate, sir, that there was aught of reticence
in your words, so contrived that you might fall back upon the
vagueness of your expression for protection, should you hereafter see
fit to change your purpose. I should have wronged you much by such a
suggestion. I rather was minded to make known to you that I,--or, I
should rather say, we," and Mr. Crawley pointed to his wife,--"shall
not accept your plainness of speech as betokening aught beyond a
conceived idea of furtherance of which you have thought it expedient
to make certain inquiries."

"I don't quite follow you," said the major. "But what I want you to
do is to give me your consent to visit your daughter; and I want Mrs
Crawley to write to Grace and tell her that it's all right." Mrs
Crawley was quite sure that it was all right, and was ready to sit
down and write the letter that moment, if her husband would permit
her to do so.

"I am sorry that I have not been explicit," said Mr. Crawley, "but I
will endeavour to make myself more plainly intelligible. My daughter,
sir, is so circumstanced in reference to her father, that I, as her
father and as a gentleman, cannot encourage any man to make a tender
to her of his hand."

"But I have made up my mind about all that."

"And I, sir, have made up mine. I dare not tell my girl that I think
she will do well to place her hand in yours. A lady, when she does
that, should feel at least that her hand is clean."

"It is the cleanest and the sweetest and the fairest hand in
Barsetshire," said the major. Mrs. Crawley could not restrain herself,
but running up to him, took his hand in hers and kissed it.

"There is unfortunately a stain, which is vicarial," began
Mr. Crawley, sustaining up to that point his voice with Roman
fortitude,--with a fortitude which would have been Roman had it not
at that moment broken down under the pressure of human feeling. He
could keep it up no longer, but continued his speech with broken
sobs, and with a voice altogether changed in its tone,--rapid now,
whereas it had before been slow,--natural, whereas it had hitherto
been a