On the next day also Griselda would not go out, but at four o’clock a servant brought a letter to her from Mount Street. Her mother had arrived in London and wished to see her at once. Mrs. Grantly sent her love to Lady Lufton, and would call at half-past five, or at any later hour at which it might be convenient for Lady Lufton to see her. Griselda was to stay and dine in Mount Street; so said the letter. Lady Lufton declared that she would be very happy to see Mrs. Grantly at the hour named; and then, armed with this message, Griselda started for her mother’s lodgings. “I’ll send the carriage for you,” said Lady Lufton. “I suppose about ten will do.” “Thank you,” said Griselda, “that will do very nicely;” and then she went. Exactly at half-past five Mrs. Grantly was shown into Lady Lufton’s drawing-room. Her daughter did not come with her, and Lady Lufton could see by the expression of her friend’s face that business was to be discussed. Indeed, it was necessary that she herself should discuss business, for Mrs. Grantly must now be told that the family treaty could not be ratified. The gentleman declined the alliance, and poor Lady Lufton was uneasy in her mind at the nature of the task before her. “Your coming up has been rather unexpected,” said Lady Lufton, as soon as her friend was seated on the sofa. “Yes, indeed; I got a letter from the archdeacon only this morning, which made it absolutely necessary that I should come.” “No bad news, I hope?” said Lady Lufton. “No; I can’t call it bad news. But, dear Lady Lufton, things won’t always turn out exactly as one would have them.” “No, indeed,” said her ladyship, remembering that it was incumbent on her to explain to Mrs. Grantly now at this present interview the tidings with which her mind was fraught. She would, however, let Mrs. Grantly first tell her own story, feeling, perhaps, that the one might possibly bear upon the other. “Poor dear Griselda!” said Mrs. Grantly, almost with a sigh. “I need not tell you, Lady Lufton, what my hopes were regarding her.” “Has she told you anything—anything that—” “She would have spoken to you at once—and it was due to you that she should have done so—but she was timid; and not unnaturally so. And then it was right that she should see her father and me before she quite made up her own mind. But I may say that it is settled now.” “What is settled?” asked Lady Lufton. “Of course it is impossible for any one to tell beforehand how these things will turn out,” continued Mrs. Grantly, beating about the bush rather more than was necessary. “The dearest wish of my heart was to see her married to Lord Lufton. I should so much have wished to have her in the same county with me, and such a match as that would have fully satisfied my ambition.”