It generally happens, that in every household, one subject of importance occupies it at a time.  The subject of importance now mostly thought of in the Greshamsbury household, was the marriage of Beatrice.  Lady Arabella had to supply the trousseau for her daughter; the squire had to supply the money for the trousseau; Mr Gazebee had the task of obtaining the money for the squire.  While this was going on, Mr Gresham was not anxious to talk to his son, either about his own debts or his son’s love.  There would be time for these things when the marriage-feast was over.

So thought the father, but the matter was precipitated by Frank.  He also had put off the declaration which he had to make, partly from a wish to spare the squire, but partly also with a view to spare himself.  We have all some of that cowardice which induces us to postpone an inevitably evil day.  At this time the discussions as to Beatrice’s wedding were frequent in the house, and at one of them Frank had heard his mother repeat the names of the proposed bridesmaids.  Mary’s name was not among them, and hence had arisen the attack on his sister.

Lady Arabella had had her reason for naming the list before her son; but she overshot her mark.  She wished to show him how Mary was forgotten at Greshamsbury; but she only inspired him with a resolve that she should not be forgotten.  He accordingly went to his sister; and then, the subject being full on his mind, he resolved at once to discuss it with his father.

‘Sir, are you at leisure for five minutes?’ he said, entering the room in which the squire was accustomed to sit majestically, to receive his tenants, scold his dependants, and in which, in former happy days, he had always arranged the meets of the Barsetshire hunt.

Mr Gresham was quite at leisure:  when was he not so?  But had he been immersed in the deepest business of which he was capable, he would gladly have put it aside at his son’s instance.

‘I don’t like to have any secret from you, sir,’ said Frank; ’nor, for the matter of that, from anybody else’—­the anybody else was intended to have reference to his mother—­’and, therefore, I would rather tell you at once what I have made up my mind to do.’

Frank’s address was very abrupt, and he felt it was so.  He was rather red in the face, and his manner was fluttered.  He had quite made up his mind to break the whole affair to his father; but he had hardly made up his mind as to the best mode of doing so.

’Good heavens, Frank! what do you mean? you are not going to do anything rash?  What is it you mean, Frank?’

‘I don’t think it is rash,’ said Frank.

’Sit down, my boy; sit down.  What is it that you say you are going to do?’

‘Nothing immediately, sir,’ said he, rather abashed; ’but as I have made up my mind about Mary Thorne—­’

‘Oh, about Mary,’ said the squire, almost relieved.