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Updated: May 4, 2025
Grantly had understood the full force of the complaint which Lady Lufton had made against her daughter; and though she had of course defended her child, and on the whole had defended her successfully, yet she confessed to herself that Griselda's chance of a first-rate establishment would be better if she were a little more impulsive.
"But young ladies must think of such things, must they not?" "Must they, mamma?" "I suppose they do, don't they? The truth is, Griselda, that Lady Lufton thinks that if Can you guess what it is she thinks?" "No, mamma." But that was a fib on Griselda's part. "She thinks that my Griselda would make the best possible wife in the world for her son: and I think so too.
Merrybrow Hall was a large house, quite as old and much grander, but not nearly so wonderful as the home of Griselda's aunts. It was six miles off, and it took a very long time indeed to drive there in the rumbling old chariot, for the old horses were fat and wheezy, and the old coachman fat and wheezy too. Lady Lavander was, of course, old too very old indeed, and rather grumpy and very deaf.
Thou knowest I have no women about me who know how to array me the rooms nor to do a multitude of things that behove unto such a festival; wherefore do thou, who art better versed than any else in these household matters, order that which is to do here and let bid such ladies as it seemeth good to thee and receive them as thou wert mistress here; then, when the nuptials are ended, thou mayst begone back to thy house. Albeit these words were all daggers to Griselda's heart, who had been unable to lay down the love she bore him as she had laid down her fair fortune, she replied, 'My lord, I am ready and willing. Then, in her coarse homespun clothes, entering the house, whence she had a little before departed in her shift, she fell to sweeping and ordering the chambers and letting place hangings and cover-cloths about the saloons and make ready the viands, putting her hand to everything, as she were some paltry serving-wench of the house, nor ever gave over till she had arrayed and ordered everything as it behoved.
Merrybrow Hall was a large house, quite as old and much grander, but not nearly so wonderful as the home of Griselda's aunts. It was six miles off, and it took a very long time indeed to drive there in the rumbling old chariot, for the old horses were fat and wheezy, and the old coachman fat and wheezy too. Lady Lavander was, of course, old too very old indeed, and rather grumpy and very deaf.
She relapsed, and seemed in danger of suffocation from her pearl necklace, which she made a faint effort to loosen from her neck. "Send your lady's woman instantly," cried Griselda's husband to the footman. Our heroine made another attempt to untie her necklace, and looked up towards her husband with supplicating eyes. His hands trembled; he entangled the strings.
But I trust I have more of the grace of God about me than to return your ill words." "That may be. It only shows folk that the grace of God will bide with an old woman that no one else can bide with." "Old woman! I am twenty years younger " But Janet had passed out of the room and clashed the shop door behind her with a pealing ring; so Griselda's little scream of indignation never reached her.
"Dressed, my dear?" said he. "Ready, my love!" said she. "Shall I ring the bell for your carriage, my dear?" said the husband. "If you please. You go with me, my dear?" said the wife. "I do not know where you are going, my love." "To Mrs. Nettleby's of course, and you?" "To Mrs. Granby's." The lightning flashed from Griselda's eyes, ere he had half pronounced the words.
'Tis not a house for wrangling and jangling, and sharp words. The 'good people' can't stand that. Nothing drives them away like ill-temper or anger." Griselda's conscience gave her a sharp prick. Could it be her doing that trouble was coming upon the old house? What a punishment for a moment's fit of ill-temper. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way, Dorcas," she said; "it makes me so unhappy."
But after a while one grows tired of "scenting" roses; and even the trying to walk straight across the bowling-green with her eyes shut, from the arbour at one side to the arbour exactly like it at the other, grew stupid, though no doubt it would have been capital fun with a companion to applaud or criticize. So the wood-path became Griselda's favourite haunt.
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