g about it, or that
the thrice happy gentleman had been made aware of his good fortune;
nor even had the archdeacon been told. But Mrs. Grantly and Lady
Lufton had been closeted together more than once, and terms had
been signed and sealed between them. Not signed on parchment, and
sealed with wax, as is the case with treaties made by kings and
diplomats--to be broken by the same; but signed with little words,
and sealed with certain pressings of the hand--a treaty which between
two such contracting parties would be binding enough. And by the
terms of this treaty Griselda Grantly was to become Lady Lufton. Lady
Lufton had hitherto been fortunate in her matrimonial speculations.
She had selected Sir George for her daughter, and Sir George, with
the utmost good-nature, had fallen in with her views. She had
selected Fanny Monsell for Mr. Robarts, and Fanny Monsell had not
rebelled against her for a moment. There was a prestige of success
about her doings, and she felt almost confident that her dear son
Ludovic must fall in love with Griselda. As to the lady herself,
nothing, Lady Lufton thought, could be much better than such a match
for her son. Lady Lufton, I have said, was a good Churchwoman, and
the archdeacon was the very type of that branch of the Church which
she venerated. The Grantlys, too, were of a good family--not noble,
indeed; but in such matters Lady Lufton did not want everything. She
was one of those persons who, in placing their hopes at a moderate
pitch, may fairly trust to see them realized. She would fain that her
son's wife should be handsome; this she wished for his sake, that he
might be proud of his wife, and because men love to look on beauty.
But she was afraid of vivacious beauty, of those soft, sparkling
feminine charms which are spread out as lures for all the world,
soft dimples, laughing eyes, luscious lips, conscious smiles, and
easy whispers. What if her son should bring her home a rattling,
rapid-spoken, painted piece of Eve's flesh such as this? Would not
the glory and joy of her life be over, even though such child of
their first mother should have come forth to the present day ennobled
by the blood of two dozen successive British peers?

And then, too, Griselda's money would not be useless. Lady Lufton,
with all her high-flown ideas, was not an imprudent woman. She knew
that her son had been extravagant, though she did not believe that he
had been reckless; and she was well content to