think that some balsam
from the old bishop's coffers should be made to cure the slight
wounds which his early imprudence might have inflicted on the carcass
of the family property. And thus, in this way, and for these reasons,
Griselda Grantly had been chosen out from all the world to be the
future Lady Lufton. Lord Lufton had met Griselda more than once
already; had met her before these high contracting parties had come
to any terms whatsoever, and had evidently admired her. Lord Dumbello
had remained silent one whole evening in London with ineffable
disgust, because Lord Lufton had been rather particular in his
attentions; but then Lord Dumbello's muteness was his most eloquent
mode of expression. Both Lady Hartletop and Mrs. Grantly, when they
saw him, knew very well what he meant. But that match would not
exactly have suited Mrs. Grantly's views. The Hartletop people were
not in her line. They belonged altogether to another set, being
connected, as we have heard before, with the Omnium interest--"those
horrid Gatherum people," as Lady Lufton would say to her, raising
her hands and eyebrows, and shaking her head. Lady Lufton probably
thought that they ate babies in pies during their midnight orgies at
Gatherum Castle; and that widows were kept in cells, and occasionally
put on racks for the amusement of the duke's guests.

When the Robarts's party entered the drawing-room the Grantlys were
already there, and the archdeacon's voice sounded loud and imposing
in Lucy's ears, as she heard him speaking, while she was yet on the
threshold of the door. "My dear Lady Lufton, I would believe anything
on earth about her--anything. There is nothing too outrageous for
her. Had she insisted on going there with the bishop's apron on, I
should not have been surprised." And then they all knew that the
archdeacon was talking about Mrs. Proudie, for Mrs. Proudie was his
bugbear.

Lady Lufton after receiving her guests introduced Lucy to Griselda
Grantly. Miss Grantly smiled graciously, bowed slightly, and then
remarked in the lowest voice possible that it was exceedingly cold. A
low voice, we know, is an excellent thing in woman. Lucy, who thought
that she was bound to speak, said that it was cold, but that she did
not mind it when she was walking. And then Griselda smiled again,
somewhat less graciously than before, and so the conversation ended.
Miss Grantly was the elder of the two, and having seen most of the
world, should hav