“It is not that altogether: but she is the sort of young lady that Lady Lufton likes. She is ladylike and very beautiful—”
“Come, Fanny!”
“I really think she is; not what I should call lovely, you know, but very beautiful. And then she is quiet and reserved; she does not require excitement, and I am sure is conscientious in the performance of her duties.”
“Very conscientious, I have no doubt,” said Lucy, with something like a sneer in her tone. “But the question, I suppose, is, whether Lord Lufton likes her.”
“I think he does,—in a sort of way. He did not talk to her so much as he did to you—”
“Ah! that was all Lady Lufton’s fault, because she didn’t have him properly labelled.”
“There does not seem to have been much harm done?”
“Oh! by God’s mercy, very little. As for me, I shall get over it in three or four years I don’t doubt—that’s if I can get ass’s milk and change of air.”
“We’ll take you to Barchester for that. But as I was saying, I really do think Lord Lufton likes Griselda Grantly.”
“Then I really do think that he has uncommon bad taste,” said Lucy, with a reality in her voice differing much from the tone of banter she had hitherto used.