“It’s no good thinking of that now, my dear. What I particularly wanted to say to you was this: I think you should know what are the ideas which Lady Lufton entertains.”
“Her ideas!” said Griselda, who had never troubled herself much in thinking about other people’s thoughts.
“Yes, Griselda. While you were staying down at Framley Court, and also, I suppose, since you have been up here in Bruton Street, you must have seen a good deal of—Lord Lufton.”
“He doesn’t come very often to Bruton Street,—that is to say, not very often.”
“H-m,” ejaculated Mrs. Grantly, very gently. She would willingly have repressed the sound altogether, but it had been too much for her. If she found reason to think that Lady Lufton was playing her false, she would immediately take her daughter away, break up the treaty, and prepare for the Hartletop alliance. Such were the thoughts that ran through her mind. But she knew all the while that Lady Lufton was not false. The fault was not with Lady Lufton; nor, perhaps, altogether with Lord Lufton. Mrs. Grantly had understood the full force of the complaint which Lady Lufton had made against her daughter; and though she had of course defended her child, and on the whole had defended her successfully, yet she confessed to herself that Griselda’s chance of a first-rate establishment would be better if she were a little more impulsive. A man does not wish to marry a statue, let the statue be ever so statuesque. She could not teach her daughter to be impulsive, any more than she could teach her to be six feet high; but might it not be possible to teach her to seem so? The task was a very delicate one, even for a mother’s hand.
“Of course he cannot be at home now as much as he was down in the country, when he was living in the same house,” said Mrs. Grantly, whose business it was to take Lord Lufton’s part at the present moment. “He must be at his club, and at the House of Lords, and in twenty places.”
“He is very fond of going to parties, and he dances beautifully.”
“I am sure he does. I have seen as much as that myself, and I think I know some one with whom he likes to dance.” And the mother gave her daughter a loving little squeeze.
“Do you mean me, mamma?”
“Yes, I do mean you, my dear. And is it not true? Lady Lufton says that he likes dancing with you better than with any one else in London.”