a good old woman to you both."

"I shall never win her, Lady Julia." As he spoke these last words
the tears were running down his cheeks, and he was weeping openly in
presence of his companion. It was well for him that she had come upon
him in his sorrow. When he once knew that she had seen his tears, he
could pour out to her the whole story of his grief; and as he did so
she led him back quietly to the house.

CHAPTER LV

Not Very Fie Fie after All

It will perhaps be remembered that terrible things had been foretold
as about to happen between the Hartletop and Omnium families. Lady
Dumbello had smiled whenever Mr Plantagenet Palliser had spoken to
her. Mr Palliser had confessed to himself that politics were not
enough for him, and that Love was necessary to make up the full
complement of his happiness. Lord Dumbello had frowned latterly when
his eyes fell on the tall figure of the duke's heir; and the duke
himself,--that potentate, generally so mighty in his silence,--the
duke himself had spoken. Lady de Courcy and Lady Clandidlem were,
both of them, absolutely certain that the thing had been fully
arranged. I am, therefore, perfectly justified in stating that
the world was talking about the loves,--the illicit loves,--of Mr
Palliser and Lady Dumbello.

And the talking of the world found its way down to that respectable
country parsonage in which Lady Dumbello had been born, and from
which she had been taken away to those noble halls which she now
graced by her presence. The talking of the world was heard at
Plumstead Episcopi, where still lived Archdeacon Grantly, the lady's
father; and was heard also at the deanery of Barchester, where lived
the lady's aunt and grandfather. By whose ill-mannered tongue the
rumour was spread in these ecclesiastical regions it boots not now to
tell. But it may be remembered that Courcy Castle was not far from
Barchester, and that Lady de Courcy was not given to hide her lights
under a bushel.

It was a terrible rumour. To what mother must not such a rumour
respecting her daughter be very terrible? In no mother's ears could
it have sounded more frightfully than it did in those of Mrs Grantly.
Lady Dumbello, the daughter, might be altogether worldly; but Mrs
Grantly had never been more than half worldly. In one moiety of her
character, her habits, and her desires, she had been wedded to things
good in themselves,--to religion, to charity, and to honest-hearted
uprightne