‘I am sorry that I have not been explicit,’ said Mr Crawley, ’but I will endeavour to make myself more plainly intelligible.  My daughter, sir, is so circumstanced in reference to her father, that I, as her father and a gentleman, cannot encourage any man to make a tender to her of his hand.’

‘But I have made up my mind about all that.’

’And I, sir, have made up mine.  I dare not tell my girl that I think she will do well to place her hand in yours.  A lady, when she does that, should feel at least that her hand is clean.’

‘It is the cleanest and the sweetest and fairest hand in Barsetshire,’ said the major.  Mrs Crawley could not restrain herself, but running up to him, took his hand in hers and kissed it.

‘There is unfortunately a stain, which is vicarial,’ began Mr Crawley, sustaining up to that point his voice with Roman fortitude—­with a fortitude which would have been Roman had it not at that moment broken down under the pressure of human feeling.  He could keep it up no longer, but continued his speech with broken sobs, and with a voice altogether changed in its tone—­rapid now, whereas it had before been slow—­natural, whereas it had hitherto been affected—­human, whereas it had hitherto been Roman.  ‘Major Grantly,’ he said.  ’I am sore beset; but what can I say to you?  My darling is as pure as the light of day—­only that she is soiled with my impurity.  She is fit to grace the house of the best gentleman in England, had I not made her unfit.’

‘She shall grace mine,’ said the major.  ’By God she shall!—­tomorrow, if she’ll have me.’  Mrs Crawley, who was standing beside him, again raised his hand and kissed it.

’It may not be so.  As I began by saying—­or rather strove to say, for I have been overtaken by weakness, and cannot speak my mind—­I cannot claim authority over my child as would another man.  How can I exercise authority from between a prison’s bars?’

‘She would obey your slightest wish,’ said Mrs Crawley.

‘I could express no wish,’ said he.  ’But I know my girl, and I am sure that she will not consent to take infamy with her into the house of the man who loves her.’

‘There will be no infamy,’ said the major.  ’Infamy!  I tell you that I shall be proud of the connexion.’

’You, sir, are generous in your prosperity.  We will strive to be at least just in our adversity.  My wife and children are to be pitied—­because of the husband and father.’

‘No!’ said Mrs Crawley.  ’I will not hear that said, without denying it.’

‘But they must take their lot as it has been given to them,’ continued he.  ’Such a position in life as that which you have proposed to bestow upon my child would be to her, as regards human affairs, great elevation.  And from what I have heard—­I may be permitted to add also from what I now know from personal experience—­such a marriage would be laden with fair promise and future