nt in the fact that Lord Lufton was paying her attention. She
showed no animation, but sat there still and graceful, composed and
classical, as she always was. Lucy, who could not keep her ears from
listening or her eyes from looking, thought that had she been there
she would have endeavoured to take a more prominent part in the
conversation. But then Griselda Grantly probably knew much better
than Lucy did how to comport herself in such a situation. Perhaps it
might be that young men, such as Lord Lufton, liked to hear the sound
of their own voices.

"Immense deal of game about here," Captain Culpepper said to her
towards the end of the dinner. It was the second attempt he had made;
on the former he had asked her whether she knew any of the fellows of
the 9th.

"Is there?" said Lucy. "Oh! I saw Lord Lufton the other day with a
great armful of pheasants."

"An armful! Why we had seven cartloads the other day at Gatherum."

"Seven carts full of pheasants!" said Lucy, amazed.

"That's not so much. We had eight guns, you know. Eight guns will do
a deal of work when the game has been well got together. They manage
all that capitally at Gatherum. Been at the duke's, eh?" Lucy had
heard the Framley report as to Gatherum Castle, and said with a sort
of shudder that she had never been at that place. After this, Captain
Culpepper troubled her no further.

When the ladies had taken themselves to the drawing-room Lucy found
herself hardly better off than she had been at the dinner-table. Lady
Lufton and Mrs. Grantly got themselves on to a sofa together, and
there chatted confidentially into each other's ears. Her ladyship
had introduced Lucy and Miss Grantly, and then she naturally thought
that the young people might do very well together. Mrs. Robarts did
attempt to bring about a joint conversation, which should include the
three, and for ten minutes or so she worked hard at it. But it did
not thrive. Miss Grantly was monosyllabic, smiling, however, at every
monosyllable; and Lucy found that nothing would occur to her at that
moment worthy of being spoken. There she sat, still and motionless,
afraid to take up a book, and thinking in her heart how much happier
she would have been at home at the parsonage. She was not made for
society; she felt sure of that; and another time she would let Mark
and Fanny come to Framley Court by themselves. And then the gentlemen
came in, and there was another stir in the room. Lady Lufton g