Lady Lufton called, and Lucy was struck dumb. Fanny was particularly anxious that her ladyship’s first impression should be favourable, and to effect this, she especially endeavoured to throw the two together during that visit. But in this she was unwise. Lady Lufton, however, had woman-craft enough not to be led into any egregious error by Lucy’s silence.
“And what day will you come and dine with us?” said Lady Lufton, turning expressly to her old friend Fanny.
“Oh, do you name the day. We never have many engagements, you know.”
“Will Thursday do, Miss Robarts? You will meet nobody you know, only my son; so you need not regard it as going out. Fanny here will tell you that stepping over to Framley Court is no more going out, than when you go from one room to another in the parsonage. Is it, Fanny?”
Fanny laughed and said that that stepping over to Framley Court certainly was done so often that perhaps they did not think so much about it as they ought to do.
“We consider ourselves a sort of happy family here, Miss Robarts, and are delighted to have the opportunity of including you in the ménage.”
Lucy gave her ladyship one of her sweetest smiles, but what she said at that moment was inaudible. It was plain, however, that she could not bring herself even to go as far as Framley Court for her dinner just at present. “It was very kind of Lady Lufton,” she said to Fanny; “but it was so very soon, and—and—and if they would only go without her, she would be so happy.” But as the object was to go with her—expressly to take her there—the dinner was adjourned for a short time—sine die.