s to
his hunting and shooting, and had boldly attempted to say a word in
joke about his love for Griselda. But she felt that she had failed;
that she had failed altogether as regarded Fanny; and that as to her
brother, she would more probably be the means of opening his eyes,
than have any effect in keeping them closed. So she gave up her
efforts and spoke no further word about Lord Lufton. Her secret had
been told, and she knew that it had been told. At this time the two
ladies were left a great deal alone together in the drawing-room at
the parsonage; more, perhaps, than had ever yet been the case since
Lucy had been there. Lady Lufton was away, and therefore the almost
daily visit to Framley Court was not made; and Mark in these days was
a great deal at Barchester, having, no doubt, very onerous duties to
perform before he could be admitted as one of that chapter. He went
into, what he was pleased to call residence, almost at once. That is,
he took his month of preaching, aiding also, in some slight and very
dignified way, in the general Sunday morning services. He did not
exactly live at Barchester, because the house was not ready. That at
least was the assumed reason. The chattels of Dr. Stanhope, the late
prebendary, had not been as yet removed, and there was likely to be
some little delay, creditors asserting their right to them. This
might have been very inconvenient to a gentleman anxiously expecting
the excellent house which the liberality of past ages had provided
for his use; but it was not so felt by Mr. Robarts. If Dr. Stanhope's
family or creditors would keep the house for the next twelve months,
he would be well pleased. And by this arrangement he was enabled to
get through his first month of absence from the church of Framley
without any notice from Lady Lufton, seeing that Lady Lufton was in
London all the time. This also was convenient, and taught our young
prebendary to look on his new preferment more favourably than he had
hitherto done.

Fanny and Lucy were thus left much alone: and as out of the full
head the mouth speaks, so is the full heart more prone to speak at
such periods of confidence as these. Lucy, when she first thought
of her own state, determined to endow herself with a powerful gift
of reticence. She would never tell her love, certainly; but neither
would she let concealment feed on her damask cheek, nor would she
ever be found for a moment sitting like Patience on a monument. She