“And you must not think that I am going to complain,” continued Lady Lufton.
“I hope there is nothing to complain of,” said Fanny, speaking by no means in a defiant tone, but humbly as it were, and deprecating her ladyship’s wrath. Fanny had gained one signal victory over Lady Lufton, and on that account, with a prudence equal to her generosity, felt that she could afford to be submissive. It might, perhaps, not be long before she would be equally anxious to conquer again.
“Well, no; I don’t think there is,” said Lady Lufton. “Nothing to complain of; but a little chat between you and me may, perhaps, set matters right, which, otherwise, might become troublesome.”
“Is it about Lucy?”
“Yes, my dear—about Lucy. She is a very nice, good girl, and a credit to her father——”
“And a great comfort to us,” said Fanny.
“I am sure she is: she must be a very pleasant companion to you, and so useful about the children; but——” And then Lady Lufton paused for a moment; for she, eloquent and discreet as she always was, felt herself rather at a loss for words to express her exact meaning.
“I don’t know what I should do without her,” said Fanny, speaking with the object of assisting her ladyship in her embarrassment.
“But the truth is this: she and Lord Lufton are getting into the way of being too much together—of talking to each other too exclusively. I am sure you must have noticed it, Fanny. It is not that I suspect any evil. I don’t think that I am suspicious by nature.”
“Oh! no,” said Fanny.