He had been out shooting all day at Chaldicotes, with Dr Thorne and a party who were staying in the house there, and had been talking about Mr Crawley, first with one man and then with another.  Lord Lufton had been there, and young Gresham from Greshambury, and Mr Robarts, the clergyman, and news had come among them of the attempt made by the bishop to stop Mr Crawley from preaching.  Mr Robarts had been of the opinion that Mr Crawley should have given way; and Lord Lufton, who shared his mother’s intense dislike of everything that came from the palace, had sworn that he was right to resist.  The sympathy of the whole party had been with Mr Crawley; but they had all agreed that he had stolen the money.

‘I fear he’ll have to give way to the bishop at last,’ Lord Lufton had said.

‘And what on earth will become of his children,’ said the doctor.  ’Think of the fate of that pretty girl; for she is a very pretty girl.  It will be the ruin of her.  No man will allow himself to fall in love with her when her father shall have been found guilty of stealing a cheque for twenty pounds.’

‘We must do something for the whole family,’ said the lord.  ’I say, Thorne, you haven’t half the game here that there used to be in poor old Sowerby’s time.’

‘Haven’t I?’ said the doctor.  ’You see, Sowerby had been at it all his days, and never did anything else.  I only began late in life.’

The major had intended to stay and dine at Chaldicotes, but when he heard what was said about Grace, his heart became sad, and he made some excuse as to the child, and returned home.  Dr Thorne had declared that no man could allow himself to fall in love with her.  But what if a man had fallen in love with her beforehand?  What if a man had not only fallen in love, but spoken of his love?  Had he been alone with the doctor, he would, I think, have told him the whole of his trouble; for in all the county there was no man whom he would sooner have trusted with his secret.  This Dr Thorne was known far and wide for his soft heart, his open hand, and his well-sustained indifference to the world’s opinions on most of those social matters with which the world meddles; and therefore the words which he had spoken had more weight with Major Grantly than they would have had from other lips.  As he drove home he almost made up his mind that he would consult Dr Thorne upon the matter.  There were many younger men with whom he was very intimate—­Frank Gresham, for instance, and Lord Lufton himself; but this was an affair which he hardly knew who to discuss with a young man.  To Dr Thorne he thought that he could bring himself to tell the whole story.

In the evening there came to him a message from Plumstead, with a letter from his father and some present for the child.  He knew at once that the present had been thus sent as an excuse for the letter.  His father might have written by the post, or course; but that would have given to his letter a certain air and tone which he had not wished it to bear.  After some message from the major’s mother, and some allusion to Edith, the archdeacon struck off upon the matter that was near his heart.