but to me she always
seemed as though she wanted fullness of lip. But the exquisite
symmetry of her cheek and chin and lower face no man could deny. Her
hair was light, and being always dressed with considerable care, did
not detract from her appearance; but it lacked that richness which
gives such luxuriance to feminine loveliness. She was tall and
slight, and very graceful in her movements; but there were those who
thought that she wanted the ease and abandon of youth. They said that
she was too composed and stiff for her age, and that she gave but
little to society beyond the beauty of her form and face. There can
be no doubt, however, that she was considered by most men and women
to be the beauty of Barsetshire, and that gentlemen from neighbouring
counties would come many miles through dirty roads on the mere hope
of being able to dance with her. Whatever attractions she may have
lacked, she had at any rate created for herself a great reputation.
She had spent two months of the last spring in London, and even there
she had made a sensation; and people had said that Lord Dumbello,
Lady Hartletop's eldest son, had been peculiarly struck with her.

It may be imagined that the archdeacon was proud of her, and so,
indeed, was Mrs. Grantly--more proud, perhaps, of her daughter's
beauty, than so excellent a woman should have allowed herself to be
of such an attribute. Griselda--that was her name--was now an only
daughter. One sister she had had, but that sister had died. There
were two brothers also left, one in the Church, and the other in the
Army. That was the extent of the archdeacon's family, and as the
archdeacon was a very rich man--he was the only child of his father,
who had been Bishop of Barchester for a great many years; and
in those years it had been worth a man's while to be Bishop of
Barchester--it was supposed that Miss Grantly would have a large
fortune. Mrs. Grantly, however, had been heard to say, that she was
in no hurry to see her daughter established in the world;--ordinary
young ladies are merely married, but those of real importance
are established:--and this, if anything, added to the value of
the prize. Mothers sometimes depreciate their wares by an undue
solicitude to dispose of them. But to tell the truth openly and
at once--a virtue for which a novelist does not receive very much
commendation--Griselda Grantly was, to a certain extent, already
given away. Not that she, Griselda, knew anythin