achieved; but in late years, the child had become, as a woman, separate
from the mother, and there had arisen not unnaturally, a break of that
close confidence which in early years had existed between them.
Griselda, Marchioness of Hartletop, was more than ever the daughter of
the archdeacon, even though he might never see her. Nothing could rob
him of the honour of such a progeny--nothing, even though there had been
an actual estrangement between them. But it was not so with Mrs Grantly.
Griselda had done very well, and Mrs Grantly had rejoiced; but she had
lost her child. Now the major, who had done well also, though in a much
lesser degree, was still her child, moving in the same sphere of life
with her, still dependent in a great degree upon his father's bounty, a
neighbour in the county, a frequent visitor at the parsonage, and a
visitor who could be received without any of that trouble that attended
the unfrequent comings of Griselda, the Marchioness, to the home of her
youth. And for this reason Mrs Grantly, terribly put out as she was at
the idea of a marriage between her son and one standing so poorly in the
world's esteem as Grace Crawley, would not have brought forward the
matter before her daughter, had she been left to her own desires. A
marchioness in one's family is a tower of strength, no doubt; but there
are counsellors so strong that we do not wish to trust them, lest in the
trusting we ourselves be overwhelmed by their strength. Now Mrs Grantly
was by no means willing to throw her influence into the hands of her
titled daughter.

But the titled daughter was consulted and gave her advice. On the
occasion of the present visit to Plumstead she had consented to lay her
head for two nights on the parsonage pillows, and on the second evening
her brother the major was to come over from Cosby Lodge to meet her.
Before his coming the affair of Grace Crawley was discussed.