'They'll console themselves with skating,' said Mrs Dale.
'Have you ever observed, Grace,' said Miss Dale,' how much amusement gentlemen require, and how imperative it is that some other game should be provided when one game fails?'
'Not particularly,' said Grace.
'Oh, but it is so. Now, with women, it is supposed that they can amuse themselves or live without amusement. Once or twice in a year, perhaps something is done for them. There is an arrow-shooting party, or a ball, or a picnic. But the catering for men's sport is never ending, and is always paramount to everything else. And yet the pet game of the day never goes off properly. In partridge time, the partridges are wild, and won't come to be killed. In hunting time the foxes won't run straight --the wretches. They show no spirit, and will take to ground to save their brushes. Then comes a nipping frost, and skating is proclaimed;but the ice is always rough, and the woodcocks have deserted the country. And as for salmon--when the summer comes round I do really believe that they suffer a great deal about the salmon. I'm sure they never catch any. So they go back to their clubs and their cards, and their billiards, and abuse their cooks and blackball their friends.
That's about it, mamma; is it not?'
'You know more about it than I do, my dear.'
'Because I have to listen to Bertram, as you never will do. We've got such a Mr Green down here, Grace. He's such a duck of a man--such top-boots and all the rest of it. And yet they whisper to me that he doesn't always ride to hounds. And to see him play billiards is beautiful, only he can never make a stroke. I hope you play billiards, Grace, because uncle Christopher has just had a new table put up.'
'I never saw a billiard-table yet,' said Grace.
'Then Mr Green shall teach you. He'll do anything that you ask him. If you don't approve the colour of the ball, he'll go to London to get you another one. Only you must be very careful about saying that you like anything before him, as he'll be sure to have it for you the next day.
Mamma happened to say that she wanted a four-penny postage stamp, and he walked off to Guestwick to get it for her instantly, although it was lunch-time.'
'He did nothing of the kind, Lily,' said her mother. 'He was going to Guestwick, and was very good-natured, and brought me back a postage-stamp that I wanted.'
'Of course he's good-natured, I know that. And there's my cousin Bertram. He's Captain Dale, you know. But he prefers to be called Mr Dale, because he has left the army, and has set up as junior squire of the parish. Uncle Christopher is the real squire; only Bertram does all the work. And now you know all about us. I'm afraid you'll find us dull enough--unless you can take a fancy to Mr Green.'
'Does Mr Green live here?'
'No; he does not live here. I never heard of his living anywhere. He was something once, but I don't know what; and I don't think he's anything now in particular. But he's Bertram's friend, and like most men, as one sees them, he never has much to do. Does Major Grantly ever go forth to fight his country's battles?' This last question she asked in a low whisper, so that the words did not reach her mother. Grace blushed up to her eyes, however, as she answered--'I think Major Grantly has left the army.'
'We shall get round her in a day or two, mamma,' said Lily Dale to her mother that night. 'I'm sure it will be the best thing to force her out of her troubles.'
'I would not use too much force on her, dear.'
'Things are better when they are talked about. I'm sure they are. And it will be good to make her accustomed to speak of Major Grantly. From what Mary Walker tells me, he certainly means it. And if so, she should be ready for it when it comes.'
'Do not make her ready for what may never come.'
'No, mamma; but she is at present such a child that she knows nothing of her powers. She should be made to understand that it is possible that even a Major Grantly may think himself fortunate in being allowed to love her.'
'I should leave that to Nature, if I were you,' said Mrs Dale.