her grandfather, Mr.
Harding. He was an old clergyman, plain and simple in his manners,
and not occupying a very prominent position, seeing that he was only
precentor to the chapter. He was loved by his daughter, Mrs. Grantly,
and was treated by the archdeacon, if not invariably with the highest
respect, at least always with consideration and regard. But, old
and plain as he was, the young people at Plumstead did not hold him
in any great reverence. He was poorer than their other relatives,
and made no attempt to hold his head high in Barsetshire circles.
Moreover, in these latter days, the home of his heart had been at the
deanery. He had, indeed, a lodging of his own in the city, but was
gradually allowing himself to be weaned away from it. He had his own
bedroom in the dean's house, his own arm-chair in the dean's library,
and his own corner on a sofa in Mrs. Dean's drawing-room. It was
not, therefore, necessary that he should interfere greatly in this
coming marriage; but still it became his duty to say a word of
congratulation to his granddaughter--and perhaps to say a word of
advice.

"Grizzy, my dear," he said to her--he always called her Grizzy, but
the endearment of the appellation had never been appreciated by the
young lady--"come and kiss me, and let me congratulate you on your
great promotion. I do so very heartily."

"Thank you, grandpapa," she said, touching his forehead with her
lips, thus being, as it were, very sparing with her kiss. But those
lips now were august and reserved for nobler foreheads than that of
an old cathedral hack. For Mr. Harding still chanted the Litany from
Sunday to Sunday, unceasingly, standing at that well-known desk in
the cathedral choir; and Griselda had a thought in her mind that
when the Hartletop people should hear of the practice they would not
be delighted. Dean and archdeacon might be very well, and if her
grandfather had even been a prebendary, she might have put up with
him; but he had, she thought, almost disgraced his family in being,
at his age, one of the working menial clergy of the cathedral. She
kissed him, therefore, sparingly, and resolved that her words with
him should be few.

"You are going to be a great lady, Grizzy," said he.

"Umph!" said she.

What was she to say when so addressed?

"And I hope you will be happy--and make others happy."

"I hope I shall," said she.

"But always think most about the latter, my dear. Think about the
happiness