‘It isn’t his buttons, Lily.’

’Ah, that’s just it.  I can go as far as his buttons.  But, come, Lady Julia, this is Christmas-time, and Christmas should be a holiday.’

In the meantime Mrs Dale was occupied with her married daughter and her son-in-law, and the squire had attached himself to poor Grace.  ’You have never been in this part of the country before, Miss Crawley,’ he said.

‘No, sir.’

’It is rather pretty just about here, and Guestwick Manor is a fine place in its way, but we have not so much natural beauty as you have in Barsetshire.  Chaldicote Chase is, I think, as pretty as anything in England.’

’I never saw Chaldicote Chase, sir.  It isn’t pretty at all at Hogglestock, where we live.’

’Ah, I forgot.  No; it is not very pretty at Hogglestock.  That’s where the bricks come from.’

‘Papa is clergyman at Hogglestock.’

’Yes, yes; I remember.  Your father is a great scholar.  I have often heard of him.  I am sorry he should be distressed by this charge they have made.  But it will all come right in the assizes.  They always get at the truth there.  I used to be intimate with a clergyman in Barsetshire of the name of Grantly’—­Grace felt that her ears were tingling, and that her face was red—­’Archdeacon Grantly.  His father was bishop of the diocese.’

‘Yes, sir.  Archdeacon Grantly lives at Plumstead.’

’I was staying once with an old friend of mine, Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, who lives close to Plumstead, and saw a good deal of them.  I remember thinking Henry Grantly was a very nice lad.  He married afterwards.’

’Yes sir; but his wife is dead now, and he has got a little girl—­Edith Grantly.’

‘Is there no other child?’

‘No sir; only Edith.’

‘You know him, then?’

’Yes sir; I know Major Grantly—­and Edith.  I never saw Archdeacon Grantly.’

’Then, my dear, you never saw a very famous pillar of the Church.  I remember when people used to talk a great deal about Archdeacon Grantly; but when his time came to be made a bishop, he was not sufficiently new-fangled; and so he got passed by.  He is much better off as he is, I should say.  Bishops have to work very hard, my dear.’

‘Do they, sir?’

’So they tell me.  And the archdeacon is a wealthy man.  So Henry Grantly has got an only daughter?  I hope she is a nice child, for I remember liking him well.’

’She is a very nice child, indeed Mr Dale.  She could not be nicer.  And she is so lovely.’  Then Mr Dale looked into his young companion’s face, struck by the sudden animation of her words, and perceived for the first time that she was very pretty.