"Papa is clergyman at Hogglestock."
"Yes, yes; I remember. Your father is a great scholar. I have often heard of him. I am so sorry he should be distressed by this charge they have made. But it will all come right at the assizes. They always get at the truth there. I used to be intimate with a clergyman in Barsetshire of the name of Grantly;"—Grace felt that her ears were tingling, and that her face was red;—"Archdeacon Grantly. His father was bishop of the diocese."
"Yes, sir. Archdeacon Grantly lives at Plumstead."
"I was staying once with an old friend of mine, Mr. Thorne of Ullathorne, who lives close to Plumstead, and saw a good deal of them. I remember thinking Henry Grantly was a very nice lad. He married afterwards."
"Yes, sir; but his wife is dead now, and he has got a little girl,—Edith Grantly."
"Is there no other child?"
"No, sir; only Edith."
"You know him, then?"
"Yes, sir; I know Major Grantly,—and Edith. I never saw Archdeacon Grantly."
"Then, my dear, you never saw a very famous pillar of the church. I remember when people used to talk a great deal about Archdeacon Grantly; but when his time came to be made a bishop, he was not sufficiently new-fangled; and so he got passed by. He is much better off as he is, I should say. Bishops have to work very hard, my dear."