en her fingers, while her lover sat beside her, full of various
plans for the future. This was his first lover's present to her;--and
what a present it was! Comfort, and happiness, and a pleasant home
for all her family. "St Ewold's isn't the best house in the world,"
said the major, "because it is old, and what I call piecemeal; but
it is very pretty, and certainly nice." "That is just the sort of
parsonage that I dream about," said Jane. "And the garden is pleasant
with old trees," said the major. "I always dream about old trees,"
said Jane, "only I'm afraid I'm too old myself to be let to climb up
them now." Mrs. Crawley said very little, but sat with her eyes full
of tears. Was it possible that, at last, before the world had closed
upon her, she was to enjoy something again of the comforts which she
had known in her early years, and to be again surrounded by those
decencies of life which of late had been almost banished from her
home by poverty!

Their various plans for the future,--for the immediate future,--were
very startling. Grace was to go over at once to Plumstead, whither
Edith had been already transferred from Cosby Lodge. That was all
very well; there was nothing very startling or impracticable in that.
The Framley ladies, having none of those doubts as to what was coming
which had for a while perplexed Grace herself, had taken little
liberties with her wardrobe, which enabled such a visit to be
made without overwhelming difficulties. But the major was equally
eager,--or at any rate equally imperious,--in his requisition for a
visit from Mr. and Mrs. Crawley themselves to Plumstead rectory. Mrs
Crawley did not dare to put forward the plain unadorned reasons
against it, as Mr. Crawley had done when discussing the subject of a
visit to the deanery. Nor could she quite venture to explain that
she feared that the archdeacon and her husband would hardly mix well
together in society. With whom, indeed, was it possible that her
husband should mix well, after his long and hardly-tried seclusion?
She could only plead that both her husband and herself were so little
used to going out that she feared,--she feared,--she feared she
knew not what. "We'll get over all that," said the major, almost
contemptuously. "It is only the first plunge that is disagreeable."
Perhaps the major did not know how very disagreeable a first plunge
may be!

At two o'clock Henry Grantly got up to go. "I should very much like
to have see