ogether above the bed-clothes.
They could not begin immediately to tell him of Mr. Crawley, but as
soon as his mind had turned itself away from the thoughts of his
absent daughter, Mrs. Grantly again reverted to her news.

"We have come to tell about Mr. Crawley, papa."

"What about him?"

"He is quite innocent."

"I knew it, my dear. I always said so. Did I not always say so,
archdeacon?"

"Indeed you did. I'll give you that credit."

"And is it all found out?" asked Mr. Harding.

"As far as he is concerned, everything is found out," said Mrs
Grantly. "Eleanor gave him the cheque herself."

"Nelly gave it to him?"

"Yes, papa. The dean meant her to give him fifty pounds. But it seems
she got to be soft of heart and made it seventy. She had the cheque
by her, and put it into the envelope with the notes."

"Some of Stringer's people seem to have stolen the cheque from Mr
Soames," said the archdeacon.

"Oh dear, I hope not."

"Somebody must have stolen it, papa."

"I had hoped not, Susan," said Mr. Harding. Both the archdeacon and
Mrs. Grantly knew that it was useless to argue with him on such a
point, and so they let that go.

Then they came to discuss Mr. Crawley's present position, and Mr
Harding ventured to ask a question or two as to Grace's chance of
marriage. He did not often interfere in the family arrangements of
his son-in-law,--and never did so when those family arrangements
were concerned with high matters. He had hardly opened his mouth
in reference to the marriage of that August lady who was now the
Marchioness of Hartletop. And of the Lady Anne, the wife of the Rev
Charles Grantly, who was always prodigiously civil to him, speaking
to him very loud, as though he were deaf because he was old, and
bringing him cheap presents from London of which he did not take much
heed,--of her he rarely said a word, or of her children, to either
of his daughters. But now his grandson, Henry Grantly, was going to
marry a girl of whom he felt that he might speak without impropriety.
"I suppose it will be a match; won't it, my dears?"

"Not a doubt about it," said Mrs. Grantly. Mr. Harding looked at his
son-in-law, but his son-in-law said nothing. The archdeacon did not
even frown,--but only moved a little uneasily in his chair.

"Dear, dear! What a comfort it must be," said the old man.

"I have not seen her yet," said Mrs. Grantly; "but the archdeacon
declares that she is all the graces rolled into on