As he came near to the village, he grew to be somewhat ashamed of himself, or, at least, nervous as to the mode in which he would proceed.  The driver, turning round to him, had suggested that he supposed he was to drive to ‘My Lady’s’.  This injustice to Lord Lufton, to whom the house belonged, and with whom his mother lived as a guest, was very common in the county; for old Lady Lufton had lived at Framley Court through her son’s long minority, and had kept the house there till his marriage; and even since his marriage she had been recognised as its presiding genius.  It certainly was not the fault of old Lady Lufton, as she always spoke of everything as belonging either to her son or daughter-in-law.  The archdeacon had been in doubt whether he would go to the Court or the parsonage.  Could he have done exactly as he wished, he would have left the chaise and walked to the parsonage, so as to reach it without the noise and fuss incidental to a postillion’s arrival.  But that was impossible.  He could not drop into Framley as though he had come from the clouds, and, therefore, he told the man to do as he had suggested.  ‘To my lady’s?’ said the postillion.  The archdeacon assented, and the man, with loud cracks of his whip, and with a spasmodic gallop along the short avenue, took the archdeacon up to the door of Lord Lufton’s house.  He asked for Lord Lufton first, putting on his pleasantest smile, so that the servant should not suspect the purpose, of which he was somewhat ashamed.  Was Lord Lufton at home?  Lord Lufton was not at home.  Lord Lufton had gone up to London that morning, intending to return the day after tomorrow; but both my ladies were at home.  So the archdeacon was shown into the room where both my ladies were sitting—­and with them he found Mrs Robarts.  Anyone who had become acquainted with the habits of the Framley ladies would have known that this might very probably be the case.  The archdeacon himself was as well aware as anyone of the modes of life at Framley.  The lord’s wife was the parson’s sister, and the parson’s wife had from her infancy been the petted friend of the old lady.  Of course they all lived very much together.  Of course Mrs Robarts was as much at home in the drawing-room of Framley Court as she was in her own drawing-room at the parsonage.  Nevertheless, the archdeacon thought himself to be hardly used when he found Mrs Robarts was at the house.

‘My dear archdeacon, who ever expected to see you?’ said old Lady Lufton.  Then the two younger women greeted him.  And they all smiled on him pleasantly, and seemed overjoyed to see him.  He was, in truth, a great favourite at Framley, and each of the three was glad to welcome him.  They believed in the archdeacon at Framley, and felt for him that sort of love which ladies in the country do feel for their elderly male friends.  There was not one of the three who would not have taken much trouble to get anything for the archdeacon which they had thought the archdeacon would like.  Even old