“Mark,” said Mrs. Robarts, hurrying into her husband’s book-room
about the middle of the day, “Lord Lufton is at home. Have you heard
it?”
“What! here at Framley?”
“He is over at Framley Court; so the servants say. Carson saw him in
the paddock with some of the horses. Won’t you go and see him?”
“Of course I will,” said Mark, shutting up his papers. “Lady Lufton
can’t be here, and if he is alone he will probably come and dine.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Mrs. Robarts, thinking of poor Lucy.
“He is not in the least particular. What does for us will do for
him. I shall ask him, at any rate.” And without further parley the
clergyman took up his hat and went off in search of his friend.
Lucy Robarts had been present when the gardener brought in tidings of
Lord Lufton’s arrival at Framley, and was aware that Fanny had gone
to tell her husband.
“He won’t come here, will he?” she said, as soon as Mrs. Robarts
returned.
“I can’t say,” said Fanny. “I hope not. He ought not to do so, and I
don’t think he will. But Mark says that he will ask him to dinner.”
“Then, Fanny, I must be taken ill. There is nothing else for it.”
“I don’t think he will come. I don’t think he can be so cruel.
Indeed, I feel sure that he won’t; but I thought it right to tell
you.”
Lucy also conceived that it was improbable that Lord Lufton should
come to the parsonage under the present circumstances; and she
declared to herself that it would not be possible that she should
appear at table if he did do so; but, nevertheless, the idea of his
being at Framley was, perhaps, not altogether painful to her. She did
not recognize any pleasure as coming to her from his arrival, but
still there was something in his presence which was, unconsciously
to herself, soothing to her feelings. But that terrible question
remained;—how was she to act if it should turn out that he was
coming to dinner?
“If he does come, Fanny,” she said, solemnly, after a pause, “I must
keep to my own room, and leave Mark to think what he pleases. It will
be better for me to make a fool of myself there, than in his presence
in the drawing-room.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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