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Nevertheless, the archdeacon thought himself to be hardly used when he found that Mrs Robarts was at the house. "My dear archdeacon, who ever expected to see you?" said old Lady Lufton. Then the two younger women greeted him. And they all smiled on him pleasantly, and seemed overjoyed to see him. He was, in truth, a great favourite at Framley, and each of the three was glad to welcome him.
Lord Lufton did at last give him the assurance that he desired, as they sat with their heads together over one of the coffee-room tables; and then Robarts promised that he would postpone his return to Framley till the Saturday, so that he might meet Sowerby at Lord Lufton's chambers in the Albany on the following afternoon.
So they could only press each other's hands and embrace, which to Lucy was almost a relief; for even to her sister-in-law she hardly as yet knew how to speak openly on this subject. "May God Almighty bless you, Miss Robarts," said Mr. Crawley, as he stood in his dingy sitting-room ready to lead her out to the pony-carriage.
He had always known that Robarts possessed what he, Sowerby, would have called the spirit of a gentleman. He had regarded him as a bold, open, generous fellow, able to take his own part when called on to do so, and by no means disinclined to speak his own mind; but he had not expected from him such a torrent of indignation, or thought that he was capable of such a depth of anger.
Robarts by this post, and I must think what I have to say to him. I could not write that letter here, and the post goes at four." And Mrs. Robarts got up from her chair, preparatory to her final departure. "I shall come to you before dinner," said Lady Meredith; "and if I can bring you good tidings, I shall expect you to come back here with me.
Then he turned round with his face to the wall and his back to his visitor, and so remained till Mr Robarts had left him. "At any rate, I wish you well through your trouble," said Robarts; and as he spoke he found that his own words were nearly choked by a sob that was rising in this throat. He went away without another word, and got out to his gig without seeing Mrs Crawley.
The letter was from his indefatigable friend Sowerby. "My dear Robarts," the letter ran: "I have just heard that poor little Burslem, the Barsetshire prebendary, is dead. We must all die some day, you know, as you have told your parishioners from the Framley pulpit more than once, no doubt. The stall must be filled up, and why should not you have it as well as another?
We did not dare to mention the name to her." And then it appeared that Mrs. Robarts had some engagement which made it necessary that she should go up and see Lady Lufton, whereas Lucy was intending to walk on to the parsonage alone. "And I have promised to go to your husband," said Lord Lufton; "or rather to your husband's dog, Ponto.
Robarts had been brought up almost under the dowager's wing, and of course she regarded her as being worthy of much talking. Do not let persons on this account suppose that Mrs. Robarts was a tuft-hunter, or a toad-eater. If they do not see the difference they have yet got to study the earliest principles of human nature. Lady Lufton called, and Lucy was struck dumb.
She could not say in words that Bishop Proudie bishop as he certainly must be called was no better than he ought to be; but by that curl of her lip she did explain to those who knew her that such was the inner feeling of her heart. And then it was understood Mark Robarts, at least, had so heard, and the information soon reached Framley Court that Mr.
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