'As for Major Grantly, if he be such a man as Itook him to be from the little I saw of him, all this would make no difference to him. I am sure that it ought to make none. Whether it should not make a difference in you is another question. I think it should; and I think your answer to him should be that you could not even consider any such proposition while your father was in so great trouble. I am so much older than you, and seem to have so much experience, that I do not scruple, as you will see, to come down upon you with all the weight of my wisdom.
'About that other subject I had rather say nothing. I have known your cousin all my life almost;and I regard no one more kindly than I do him. When Ithink of my friends, he is always the one of the dearest. But when one thinks of going beyond friendship, even if one tries to do so, there are so many barriers!
'Your affectionate friend, 'LILY DALE 'Mamma bids me say that she would be delighted to have you here whenever it might suit you to come;and I add to this message my entreaty that you will come at once. You say that you think you ought to leave Miss Prettyman's for a while. I can well understand your feeling; but as your sister is with your mother, surely you had better come to us--I mean quite at once. I will not scruple to tell you what mamma says, because I know your good sense. She says that as the interest of the school may possibly be concerned, and as you have no regular engagement, she thinks you ought to leave Silverbridge; but she says that it will be better that you come to us than that you should go home. If you went home, people might say that had left in some sort of disgrace. Come to us, and when all this is put right, then you go back to Silverbridge; and then, if a certain person speaks again, you can make a different answer. Mamma quite understands that you are to come; so you have only to ask your own mamma, and come at once.'
This letter, the reader will understand, did not reach Grace Crawley till after the all-important Thursday; but before that day had come round, Grace had told Miss Prettyman--had told both the Miss Prettymans--that she was resolved to leave them. She had done this without consulting her mother, driven to it by various motives. She knew her father's conduct was being discussed by the girls at school, and that things were said of him which it could not but be for the disadvantage of Miss Prettyman that anyone should say of a teacher in the establishment. She felt, too, that she could not hold up her head in Silverbridge in these days, as it would become her to do if she retained her position. She did struggle gallantly, and succeeded much more nearly than she was herself aware. She was all but able to carry herself as though no terrible accusation was being made against her father. Of the struggle, however, she was not herself the less conscious, and she told herself that on that account also she must go. And then she must go because of Major Grantly. Whether he was minded to come and speak to her that one other needed word, or whether he was not so minded, it would be better that she should be away from Silverbridge. If he spoke it she could only answer him by the negative; she should leave herself the power of thinking that his silence had been caused by her absence, and not by his coldness or indifference.
She asked, therefore, for an interview with Miss Prettyman, and was shown into the elder sister's room, at eleven o'clock on the Tuesday morning. The elder Miss Prettyman never came into the school herself till twelve, but was in the habit of having interviews with the young ladies--which were sometimes very awful in their nature--for the two previous hours. During these interviews an immense amount of business was done, and the fortunes in life of some girls were said to have been made or marred; as when, for instance, Miss Crimpton had been advised to stay at home with her uncle in England, instead of going out with her sisters to India, both of which sisters were married within three months of their landing in Bombay. The way in which she gave her counsel on such occasions was very efficacious. No one knew better than Miss Prettyman that a cock can crow most effectively in his own farmyard, and therefore all crowing intended to be effective was done by her within the shrine of her own peculiar room.
'Well, my dear, what is it?' she said to Grace. 'Sit in the arm-chair, my dear, and we can then talk comfortably.' The teachers, when they were closeted with Miss Prettyman, were always asked to sit in the arm-chair, whereas a small, straight-backed, uneasy chair was kept for the use of the young ladies. And there was, too, a stool of repentance, out against the wall, very uncomfortable indeed for young ladies who had not behaved themselves so prettily as young ladies generally do.
Grace seated herself, and then began her speech very quickly. 'Miss Prettyman,' she said, 'I have made up my mind that I will go home, if you please.'
'And why should you go home, Grace? Did I not tell you that you should have a home here?' Miss Prettyman had weak eyes, and was very small, and had never possessed any claim to be called good-looking. And she assumed nothing of the majestical awe from any adornment or studied amplification of the outward woman by means of impressive trappings. The possessor of an unobservant eye might have called her a mean-looking, little old woman. And certainly there would have been nothing awful in her to anyone who came across her otherwise than as a lady having authority in her own school. But within her own precincts, she did know how to surround herself with a dignity which all felt who approached her there. Grace Crawley, as she heard the ****** question which Miss Prettyman had asked, unconsciously acknowledged the strength of the woman's manner. She already stood rebuked for having proposed a plan so ungracious, so unnecessary, and so unwise.
'I think I ought to be with mamma at present,' said Grace.
'You mother has her sister with her.'
'Yes, Miss Prettyman, Jane is there.'
