As they were going, Grantly—­speaking now altogether with indifference to Toogood’s presence—­asked Mr Crawley’s leave to be the bearer of these tidings to his daughter.

‘She can hear it in no tones that can be more grateful to her,’ said Mr Crawley.

‘I shall ask her for nothing for myself now,’ said Grantly.  ’It would be ungenerous.  But hereafter—­in a few days—­when she shall be more at ease, may I then use your permission—?’

‘Major Grantly,’ said Mr Crawley solemnly.  ’I respect you so highly, and esteem you so thoroughly, that I give willingly that which you ask.  If my daughter can bring herself to regard you, as a woman should regard her husband, with the love that can worship and cling and be constant, she will, I think, have a fair promise of worldly happiness.  And for you, sir, in giving you my girl—­if so be it that she is given to you—­I shall bestow upon you a great treasure.’  Had Grace been a king’s daughter, with a queen’s dowry, the permission to address her could not have been imparted to her lover with a more thorough appreciation of the value of privilege conferred.

‘He’s a rum one,’ said Mr Toogood, as they got into the carriage together; ’but they say he’s a very good ‘un to go.’

After their departure Jane was sent for, that she might hear the family news; and when she expressed some feeling not altogether in favour of Mr Toogood, Mr Crawley thus strove to correct her views.  ’He is a man, my dear, who conceals a warm heart, and an active spirit, and healthy sympathies, under an affected jocularity of manner, and almost with a touch of vulgarity.  But when the jewel itself is good, any fault in the casket may be forgiven.’

‘Then, papa, the next time I see him I’ll like him—­if I can,’ said Jane.

The village of Framley lies slightly off the road from Hogglestock to Barchester—­so much so as to add perhaps a mile to the journey if the traveller goes by the parsonage gate.  On their route to Hogglestock our two travellers had passed Framley without visiting the village, but on the return journey the major asked Mr Toogood’s permission to make the deviation.  ‘I’m not in a hurry,’ said Toogood.  ’I never was more comfortable in my life.  I’ll just light a cigar while you go in and see your friends.’  Toogood lit his cigar, and the major, getting down from the carriage, entered the parsonage.  It was his fortune to find Grace alone.  Robarts was in Barchester, and Mrs Robarts was across the road, at Lufton Court.  ‘Miss Crawley is certainly in,’ the servant told him, and he soon found himself in Miss Crawley’s presence.

‘I have only called to tell you the news about your father,’ said he.

‘What news?’

’We have just come from Hogglestock—­your cousin Mr Toogood, that is, and myself.  They have found out all about the cheque.  My aunt, Mrs Arabin, the dean’s wife, you know—­she gave it to your father.’