"But the question, I suppose, is, whether Lord
Lufton likes her."
"I think he does,--in a sort of way. He did not talk to her so much
as he did to you--"
"Ah! that was all Lady Lufton's fault, because she didn't have him
properly labelled."
"There does not seem to have been much harm done?"
"Oh! by God's mercy, very little. As for me, I shall get over it in
three or four years I don't doubt--that's if I can get ass's milk and
change of air."
"We'll take you to Barchester for that. But as I was saying, I really
do think Lord Lufton likes Griselda Grantly."
"Then I really do think that he has uncommon bad taste," said Lucy,
with a reality in her voice differing much from the tone of banter
she had hitherto used.
"What, Lucy!" said her sister-in-law, looking at her. "Then I fear we
shall really want the ass's milk."
"Perhaps, considering my position, I ought to know nothing of Lord
Lufton, for you say that it is very dangerous for young ladies to
know young gentlemen. But I do know enough of him to understand that
he ought not to like such a girl as Griselda Grantly. He ought to
know that she is a mere automaton, cold, lifeless, spiritless, and
even vapid. There is, I believe, nothing in her mentally, whatever
may be her moral excellences.
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