It was happily the case that Mr Crawley was not at home.  Mr Crawley was away at Hoggle End, reading to the brickmakers, or turning the mangles of their wives, or teaching them theology, or politics, or history, after his fashion.  In these days he spent, perhaps, the happiest hours of his life down at Hoggle End.  I say that his absence was a happy chance, because, had he been at home, he would certainly have said something, or done something, to offend Lady Lufton.  He would either have refused to see her, or when seeing her he would have bade her hold her peace and not interfere with matters which did not concern her, or—­more probable still—­he would have sat still and sullen, and have spoken not at all.  But he was away and Mrs Crawley sent out word by the servant that she would be most proud to see her ladyship, if her ladyship would be pleased to alight.  Her ladyship did alight, and walked into the parsonage, followed by Mrs Robarts.

Grace was with her mother.  Indeed Jane had been there also when the message was brought in, but she fled into the back regions, overcome by shame as to her frock.  Grace, I think, would have fled too, had she not been bound in honour to support her mother.  Lady Lufton, as she entered, was very gracious, struggling with all the power of her womanhood so to carry herself that there should be no outwardly visible sign of her rank or her wealth—­but not altogether succeeding.  Mrs Robarts, on her first entrance, said only a word or two of greeting to Mrs Crawley, and kissed Grace, whom she had known intimately in early years.  ‘Lady Lufton,’ said Mrs Crawley, ’I am afraid this is a very poor place for you to come to; but you have known that of old, and therefore I need hardly apologise.’

‘Sometimes I like poor places best,’ said Lady Lufton.  Then there was a pause, after which Lady Lufton addressed herself to Grace, seeking some subject for immediate conversation.  ’You have been down in Allington, my dear, have you not?’ Grace, in a whisper, said that she had.  ’Staying with the Dales, I believe?  I know the Dales well by name, and I have always heard that they are charming people.’

‘I like them very much,’ said Grace.  And then there was another pause.

‘I hope your husband is pretty well, Mrs Crawley?’ said Lady Lufton.

’He is pretty well—­not quite strong.  I daresay you know, Lady Lufton, that he has things to vex him?’ Mrs Crawley felt that it was the need of the moment that the only possible subject of conversation in that house should be introduced; and therefore she brought it in at once, not loving the subject, but being strongly conscious of the necessity.  Lady Lufton meant to be good-natured, and therefore Mrs Crawley would do all in her power to make Lady Lufton’s mission easy to her.

‘Indeed yes,’ said her ladyship; ‘we do know that.’

‘We feel so much for you and Mr Crawley,’ said Mrs Robarts; ’and are so sure that your sufferings are unmerited.’  This was not discreet on the part of Mrs Robarts, as she was the wife of one of the clergymen who had been selected to form the commission of inquiry; and so Lady Lufton told her on the way home.