第116章

In going down from the church to the Small House Lily Dale had all the conversation to herself. During some portion of the way the path was only broad enough for two person, and her Major Grantly walked by Lily's side, while Grace followed them. Then they found their way into the house, and Lily made her little speech to her mother about catching the major. 'Yes, my dear, I have seen Major Grantly before,' said Mrs Dale.

'I suppose he has met you on the road. But I did not expect that any of you would have returned so soon.' Some little explanation followed as to the squire, and as to Major Grantly's walk, and after that the great thing was to leave the two lovers alone. 'You will dine here, of course, Major Grantly,' Mrs Dale said. But this he declined. He had learned, he said, that there was a night-train up to London, and he thought that he would return to town by that. He had intended, when he left London to get back there as soon as possible. Then Mrs Dale, having hesitated for two or three seconds, got up and left the room, and Lily followed. 'It seems very odd and abrupt,' said Mrs Dale to her daughter, 'but Isuppose it is best.' 'Of course, it is best, mamma. Do as one would be done by--that's the only rule. It will be much better for her that she should have it over.'

Grace was seated on a sofa, and Major Grantly got up from his chair, and came and stood opposite to her. 'Grace,' he said, 'I hope you are not angry with me for coming down to see you here.'

'No, I am not angry,' she said.

'I have thought a great deal about it, and your friend, Miss Prettyman, knew that I was coming. She quite approves of my coming.'

'She has written to me, but did not tell me of it,' said Grace, not knowing what other answer to make.

'No--she could not have done that. She had no authority. I only mention her name because it will have weight with you, and because Ihave not done that which, under the circumstances, perhaps, I should have been bound to do. I have not seen your father.'

'Poor papa,' said Grace.

'I have felt that at the present moment I could not do so with any success. It has not come of any want of respect either for him or for you. Of course, Grace, you know why I am here.' He paused, and then, remembering that he had no right to expect an answer to such a question, he continued, 'I have come here, dearest Grace, to ask you to be my wife, and to be a mother to Edith. I know that you love Edith.'

'I do indeed.'

'And I have hoped sometimes--though I suppose I ought not to say so--but I have hoped and almost thought sometimes, that you have been willing to--love me, too. It is better to tell the truth simply, is it not?'

'I suppose so,' said Grace.

'And therefore, and because I love you dearly myself, I have come to ask you to be my wife.' Saying which he opened out his hand, and held it to her. But she did not take it. 'There is my hand, Grace. If your heart is as I would have it you can give me yours, and I shall want nothing else to make me happy.' But still she made no motion towards granting him his request. 'If I have been too sudden,' he said, 'you must forgive me for that. I have been sudden and abrupt, but as things are, no other way has been open to me. Can you not bring yourself to give me some answer, Grace?' His hand had now fallen again to his side, but he was still standing before her.

She had said no word to him as yet, except that one in which she had acknowledged her love for his child, and had expressed no surprise, even in her countenance, at his proposal. And yet the idea that he should do such a thing, since the idea that he certainly would do it had become clear to her, had filled with a world of surprise. No girl ever lived with any beauty belonging to her who had a smaller knowledge of her own possession than Grace Crawley. Nor had she the slightest pride in her own acquirements. That she had been taught in many things more than had been taught to other girls, had come of her poverty and of the desolation of her home. She had learned to read Greek and Italian because there had been nothing else for her to do in that sad house.