Then he went to Barchester; not open-mouthed with inquiry, but rather with open ears, and it seemed to him that all men in Barchester were of one mind. There was a county-club in Barchester, and at this county-club nine men out of ten were talking about Mr Crawley. It was by no means necessary that a man should ask questions on the subject. Opinion was expressed so freely that no such asking was required; and opinion in Barchester--at any rate in the county-club--seemed now to be all of one mind. There had been every disposition at first to believe Mr Crawley to be innocent. He had been believed to be innocent even after he had said wrongly that the cheque had been paid to him by Mr Soames; but he had since stated that he had received it from Dean Arabin, and that statement was also shown to be false. A man who has a cheque changed on his own behalf is bound at least to show where he got the cheque. Mr Crawley had not only failed to do this, but had given two false excuses.
Henry Grantly, as he drove home to Silverbridge on the Sunday afternoon, summed up all the evidence in his own mind, and brought in a verdict of Guilty against the father of the girl whom he loved.
On the following morning he walked into Silverbridge and called at Miss Prettyman's house. As he went along his heart was warmer towards Grace than it had ever been before. He had told himself that he was now bound to abstain, for his father's sake, from doing that which he had told his father he certainly would do. But he knew also, that he had said that which, though it did not bind him to Miss Crawley, gave her a right to expect that he would so bind himself. And Miss Prettyman could not but be aware of what his intention had been, and could not but expect that he should not be explicit. Had he been a wise man altogether, he would probably have abstained from saying anything at the present moment--a wise man, that is, in the ways and feelings of the world in such matters. But, as there are men who will allow themselves all imaginable latitude in their treatment of women, believing that the world will condone any amount of fault of that nature, so there are other men, and a class of men which on the whole is the more numerous of the two, who are tremblingly alive to the danger of censure on this head--and to the danger of censure not only from others but from themselves also. Major Grantly had done that which made him think it imperative upon him to do something further, and do that something at once.
Therefore he started off on the Monday morning after breakfast and walked into Silverbridge, and as he walked he built various castles in the air. Why should no not marry Grace--if she would have him--and take her away beyond the reach of her father's calamity? Why should he not throw over his own people altogether, money, position, society, and all, and give himself up to love? Were he to do so, men might say that he was foolish, but no one could hint that he was dishonourable. His spirit was high enough to teach him to think that such conduct on his part would have in it something of magnificence; but, yet, such was not his purpose. In going to Miss Prettyman it was his intention to apologise for not doing this magnificent thing. His mind was quite made up.
Nevertheless he built castles in the air.
It so happened that he encountered the younger Miss Prettyman in the hall. It would not at all have suited him to reveal to her the purport of his visit, or ask her to assist his suit or receive his apologies.
Miss Anne Prettyman was too common a personage in the Silverbridge world to be fit for such employment. Miss Anne Prettyman was, indeed, herself submissive to him, and treated him with the courtesy which is due to a superior being. He therefore simply asked her whether he could be allowed to see her sister.
'Surely, Major Grantly;--that is, I think so. It is a little early, but I think she can receive you.'
'It is early, I know; but as I want to say a word or two on business--'
'Oh, on business. I am sure she will see you on business; she will only be too proud. If you will be kind enough to step in here for two minutes.' Then Miss Anne, having deposited the major in the little parlour, ran upstairs with her message to her sister. 'Of course it's about Grace Crawley' she said to herself as she went. 'It can't be about anything else. I wonder what he's going to say. If he's going to pop, and the father in all this trouble, he's the finest fellow that ever trod.' Such were her thoughts as she tapped at the door and announced in the presence of Grace that there was somebody in the hall.
'It's Major Grantly,' whispered Anne, as soon as Grace had shut the door behind her.
'So I suppose by your telling her not to go into the hall. What has he come to say?'
'How on earth can I tell you that, Annabella? But I suppose he can have only one thing to say after all that has come and gone. He can only have come with one object.'
'He wouldn't have come to me for that. He would have asked to see herself.'
'She never goes out now, and he can't see her.'
'Or he would have gone to them over at Hogglestock,' said Miss Prettyman. 'But of course he must come up now he is here. Would you mind telling him? Of shall I ring the bell?'
'I'll tell him. We need not make more fuss than necessary, with the servants, you know. I suppose I'd better not come back with him?'
There was a tone of supplication in the younger sister's voice as she made the last suggestion, which ought to have melted the heart of the elder; but it was unavailing. 'As he has asked to see me, I think you had better not,' said Annabella. Miss Anne Prettyman bore her cross meekly, offered no argument on the subject, and returning to the little parlour where she had left the major, brought him upstairs, and ushered him into her sister's room without even entering it again, herself.