who had married the Lady Anne,--was his father's
darling in these days. The old archdeacon would go up to London and
be quite happy in his son's house. He met there the men whom he loved
to meet, and heard the talk which he loved to hear. It was very fine,
having the Marquis of Hartletop for his son-in-law, but he had never
cared to be much at Lady Hartletop's house. Indeed, the archdeacon
cared to be in no house in which those around him were supposed to
be bigger than himself. Such was the little family fleet from out of
which Henry Grantly was now proposing to sail alone with his little
boat,--taking Grace Crawley with him at the helm. "My father is a
just man at the bottom," he said to himself, "and though he may not
forgive me, he will not punish Edith."

But there was still left one of the family,--not a Grantly, indeed,
but one so nearly allied to them as to have his boat moored in
the same harbour,--who, as the major well knew, would thoroughly
sympathise with him. This was old Mr. Harding, his mother's
father,--the father of his mother and of his aunt Mrs. Arabin,--whose
home was now at the deanery. He was also to be at Plumstead during
this Christmas, and he at any rate would give a ready assent to such
a marriage as that which the major was proposing for himself. But
then poor old Mr. Harding had been thoroughly deficient in that
ambition which had served to aggrandize the family into which his
daughter had married. He was a poor man who, in spite of good
friends,--for the late bishop of the diocese had been his dearest
friend,--had never risen high in his profession, and had fallen even
from the moderate altitude which he had attained. But he was a man
whom all loved who knew him; and it was much to the credit of his
son-in-law, the archdeacon, that, with all his tendencies to love
rising suns, he had ever been true to Mr. Harding.

Major Grantly took his daughter with him, and on his arrival at
Plumstead she of course was the first object of attention. Mrs
Grantly declared that she had grown immensely. The archdeacon
complimented her red cheeks, and said that Cosby Lodge was as
healthy a place as any in the county, while Mr. Harding, Edith's
great-grandfather, drew slowly from his pocket sundry treasures
with which he had come prepared for the delight of the little girl.
Charles Grantly and Lady Anne had no children, and the heir of all
the Hartletops was too august to have been trusted to the embraces of