"Who is Soames, papa?" asked the marchioness.
"He is Lord Lufton's man of business, my dear."
"Oh, Lord Lufton's man of business!" There was something of a sneer in the tone of the lady's voice as she mentioned Lord Lufton's name.
"I am told," continued the archdeacon, "that Soames declares the cheque was taken from a pocket-book which he left by accident in Crawley's house."
"You don't mean to say, archdeacon, that you think that Mr. Crawley—a clergyman—stole it!" said Mrs. Grantly.
"I don't say anything of the kind, my dear. But supposing Mr. Crawley to be as honest as the sun, you wouldn't wish Henry to marry his daughter."
"Certainly not," said the mother. "It would be an unfitting marriage. The poor girl has had no advantages."
"He is not able even to pay his baker's bill. I always thought Arabin was very wrong to place such a man in such a parish as Hogglestock. Of course the family could not live there." The Arabin here spoken of was Dr. Arabin, dean of Barchester. The dean and the archdeacon had married sisters, and there was much intimacy between the families.
"After all it is only a rumour as yet," said Mrs. Grantly.
"Fothergill told me only yesterday, that he sees her almost every day," said the father. "What are we to do, Griselda? You know how headstrong Henry is." The marchioness sat quite still, looking at the fire, and made no immediate answer to this address.