Framley Parsonage, Anthony Trollope [popular e readers txt] 📗

to moderate the blaze of her own splendour, in order that Lucy’s unaccustomed eyes might not be dazzled. But all this was changed now. Lucy could listen to the young lord’s voice by the hour together⁠—without being dazzled in the least.

Under these circumstances two things occurred to her. She would speak either to her son or to Fanny Robarts, and by a little diplomacy have this evil remedied. And then she had to determine on which step she would take.

“Nothing could be more reasonable than Ludovic.” So at least she said to herself over and over again. But then Ludovic understood nothing about such matters; and he had, moreover, a habit, inherited from his father, of taking the bit between his teeth whenever he suspected interference. Drive him gently without pulling his mouth about, and you might take him anywhere, almost at any pace; but a smart touch, let it be ever so slight, would bring him on his haunches, and then it might be a question whether you could get him another mile that day. So that on the whole Lady Lufton thought that the other plan would be the best. I have no doubt that Lady Lufton was right.

She got Fanny up into her own den one afternoon, and seated her discreetly in an easy armchair, making her guest take off her bonnet, and showing by various signs that the visit was regarded as one of great moment.

“Fanny,” she said, “I want to speak to you about something that is important and necessary to mention, and yet it is a very delicate affair to speak of.” Fanny opened her eyes, and said that she hoped that nothing was wrong.

“No, my dear, I think nothing is wrong: I hope so, and I think I may say I’m sure of it; but then it’s always well to be on one’s guard.”

“Yes, it is,” said Fanny, who knew that something unpleasant was coming⁠—something as to which she might probably be called upon to differ from her ladyship. Mrs. Robarts’ own fears, however, were running entirely in the direction of her husband;⁠—and, indeed, Lady Lufton had a word or two to say on that subject also, only not exactly now. A hunting parson was not at all to her taste; but that matter might be allowed to remain in abeyance for a few days.

“Now, Fanny, you know that we have all liked your sister-in-law, Lucy, very much.” And then Mrs. Robarts’ mind was immediately opened, and she knew the rest as well as though it had all been spoken. “I need hardly tell you that, for I am sure we have shown it.”

“You have, indeed, as you always do.”

“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.

“But they will each of them get wrong ideas about the other, and about themselves. Lucy will, perhaps, think that Ludovic means more than he does, and Ludovic will⁠—” But it was not quite so easy to say what Ludovic might do or think; but Lady Lufton went on: “I am sure that you understand me, Fanny, with your excellent sense and tact. Lucy is clever, and amusing, and all that; and Ludovic, like all young men, is perhaps ignorant that his attentions may be taken to mean more than he intends⁠—”

“You don’t think that Lucy is in love with him?”

“Oh dear, no⁠—nothing of the kind. If I thought it had come to that, I should recommend that she should be sent away altogether. I am sure she is not so foolish as that.”

“I don’t think there is anything in it at all, Lady Lufton.”

“I don’t think there is, my dear, and therefore I would not for worlds make any suggestion about it to Lord Lufton. I would not let him suppose that I suspected Lucy of being so imprudent. But still, it may be well that you should just say a word to her. A little management now and then, in such matters, is so useful.”

“But what shall I say to her?”

“Just explain to her that any young lady who talks so much to the same young gentleman will certainly be observed⁠—that people will accuse her of setting her cap at Lord Lufton. Not that I suspect her⁠—I give her credit for too much proper feeling: I know her education has been good, and her principles are upright. But people will talk of her. You must understand that, Fanny, as well as I do.”

Fanny could not help meditating whether proper feeling,