Framley Parsonage by Anthony Trollope (good books to read for young adults TXT) 📕

at once without any remorse as to the greater glories which might appertain to a future Marchioness of Hartletop. In that direction she was not without sufficient wisdom. But then Lord Lufton had not offered to her, nor given any signs that he intended to do so; and to give Griselda Grantly her due, she was not a girl to make a first overture. Neither had Lord Dumbello offered; but he had given signs⁠—dumb signs, such as birds give to each other, quite as intelligible as verbal signs to a girl who preferred the use of her toes to that of her tongue.

“I have not thought about it,” said Griselda, very coldly, and at that moment a gentleman stood before her and asked her hand for the next dance. It was Lord Dumbello; and Griselda, making no reply except by a slight bow, got up and put her hand within her partner’s arm.

“Shall I find you here, Lady Lufton, when we have done?” she said; and then started off among the dancers. When the work before one is dancing the proper thing for a gentleman to do is, at any rate, to ask a lady; this proper thing Lord Lufton had omitted, and now the prize was taken away from under his very nose.

There was clearly an air of triumph about Lord Dumbello as he walked away with the beauty. The world had been saying that Lord Lufton was to marry her, and the world had also been saying that Lord Dumbello admired her. Now this had angered Lord Dumbello, and made him feel as though he walked about, a mark of scorn, as a disappointed suitor. Had it not been for Lord Lufton, perhaps he would not have cared so much for Griselda Grantly; but circumstances had so turned out that he did care for her, and felt it to be incumbent upon him as the heir to a marquisate to obtain what he wanted, let who would have a hankering after the same article. It is in this way that pictures are so well sold at auctions; and Lord Dumbello regarded Miss Grantly as being now subject to the auctioneer’s hammer, and conceived that Lord Lufton was bidding against him. There was, therefore, an air of triumph about him as he put his arm round Griselda’s waist and whirled her up and down the room in obedience to the music.

Lady Lufton and her son were left together looking at each other. Of course he had intended to ask Griselda to dance, but it cannot be said that he very much regretted his disappointment. Of course also Lady Lufton had expected that her son and Griselda would stand up together, and she was a little inclined to be angry with her protégée.

“I think she might have waited a minute,” said Lady Lufton.

“But why, mother? There are certain things for which no one ever waits: to give a friend, for instance, the first passage through a gate out hunting, and suchlike. Miss Grantly was quite right to take the first that offered.”

Lady Lufton had determined to learn what was to be the end of this scheme of hers. She could not have Griselda always with her, and if anything were to be arranged it must be arranged now, while both of them were in London. At the close of the season Griselda would return to Plumstead, and Lord Lufton would go⁠—nobody as yet knew where. It would be useless to look forward to further opportunities. If they did not contrive to love each other now, they would never do so. Lady Lufton was beginning to fear that her plan would not work, but she made up her mind that she would learn the truth then and there⁠—at least as far as her son was concerned.

“Oh, yes; quite so;⁠—if it is equal to her with which she dances,” said Lady Lufton.

“Quite equal, I should think⁠—unless it be that Dumbello is longer-winded than I am.”

“I am sorry to hear you speak of her in that way, Ludovic.”

“Why sorry, mother?”

“Because I had hoped⁠—that you and she would have liked each other.” This she said in a serious tone of voice, tender and sad, looking up into his face with a plaintive gaze, as though she knew that she were asking of him some great favour.

“Yes, mother, I have known that you have wished that.”

“You have known it, Ludovic!”

“Oh, dear, yes; you are not at all sharp at keeping your secrets from me. And, mother, at one time, for a day or so, I thought that I could oblige you. You have been so good to me, that I would almost do anything for you.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she said, deprecating his praise, and the sacrifice which he seemed to offer of his own hopes and aspirations. “I would not for worlds have you do so for my sake. No mother ever had a better son, and my only ambition is for your happiness.”

“But, mother, she would not make me happy. I was mad enough for a moment to think that she could do so⁠—for a moment I did think so. There was one occasion on which I would have asked her to take me, but⁠—”

“But what, Ludovic?”

“Never mind; it passed away; and now I shall never ask her. Indeed I do not think she would have me. She is ambitious, and flying at higher game than I am. And I must say this for her, that she knows well what she is doing, and plays her cards as though she had been born with them in her hand.”

“You will never ask her?”

“No, mother; had I done so, it would have been for love of you⁠—only for love of you.”

“I would not for worlds that you should do that.”

“Let her have Dumbello; she will make an excellent wife for him, just the wife that he will want. And you, you will have been so good to her in assisting her to such a matter.”

“But,