The Last Chronicle of Barset

school at Silverbridge. Two more benignant ladies than the Miss Prettymans never presided over such an establishme

as nothing to hers; that she was the most charitable, the most loving, and the most conscientious of schoolmistresses. This was Miss Annabella Prettyman, the elder; and perhaps it may be inferred that some portion of her great character for virtue may have been due to the fact that nobody ever saw her out of her own house. She could not even go to church, because the open air brought on neuralgia. She was therefore perhaps taken to be magnificent, partly because she was unknown. Miss Anne Prettyman, the younger, went about fr

n a little longer. But they took great care to let the fashionable world of Silverbridge know that Grace Crawley was a visitor with them, and not a teacher. "We pay her no salary, or anything of that kind," said Miss Anne Prettyman; a statement, however, which was by no means true, for during those four months the regular stipend had been paid to her; and twice since then, Miss Annabella Prettyman, who managed all the money matters, had called Grace into her little room, and had made a little speech, and had put a little bit of paper into her hand. "I know I ough

thought that Mr. Crawley was guilty, but she knew enough of the world to be aware that suspicion of such guilt might compel such a man as Major Grantly to change his mind. "If he had only popped," Anne said to her siste

s cousin was, and for years had been, violently smitten in love for this young lady. But the young lady's tale had been sad, and though she acknowledged feelings of most affectionate friendship for the cousin, she could not bring herself to acknowledge more. Grace Crawley had met the young lady at Silverbridge, and words had been spoken a

ey in her terrible sorrow wrote to her friend, pouring out her whole heart. As Grace's le

e, –– Decem

est

e has had! But I think he would almost sooner see mamma starving;-I am sure he would rather be starved himself, than even borrow a shilling which he could not pay. To suppose that he would take money [she had tried to write the word "steal" but she could not bring her pen to form the letters] is monstrous. But, somehow, the circumstances have been made to look bad against him, and they say that he must come over here to the magistrates. I often think that of all men in the world papa is the most unfortunate. Everything seems to go against him, and yet he is so good! Poor mamma has been over here, and she is distracted. I never saw her so wretched before. She

ile,-and she told me to remember that all people could not be like her, who had nobody to look to but herself and her sister; and that at present I must task myself not to think of that which I had been thinking of before. She did not mention anybody's name, but of course I understood very well what she meant; and I suppose she is right. I said nothing in answer to her, for I could not speak. She was holding my hand, and I took hers up and kissed it, to show her, if I could, that I knew that she was right; but I could not have spoken about it for all the world. It was not ten days since that she herself, with all her prudence, told me that she thought I ought to make up my mind what ans

r Lily, I am not even yet so wretched but what I shall rejoice to be told good news of you. If it only could be as John wishes

ectionat

e Cr

gglestock at once if the magistrates decide against papa. I t

the Thursday, but it will be better for our story that it should be given here than postpone

–– Decemb

r G

sympathize with you altogether, in that you may at any rate be sure. But in such troubles

the charge must be altogether unfounded, and mamma says that the truth will be sure to show itself at last. But that conviction does n

ld not make a difference in you is another question. I think it should; and I think your answer to him should be that you could not even consider any such proposition while your father wa

regard no one more kindly than I do him. When I think of my friends, he is always one of the dearest.

ectionat

y D

,-I mean quite at once. I will not scruple to tell you what mamma says, because I know your good sense. She says that as the interest of the school may possibly be concerned, and as you have no regular engagement, she thinks you ought to leave Silverbridge; but she says that it will be better that you come to us than that you should go home. I

s Prettyman that any one should say of a teacher in her establishment. She felt, too, that she could not hold up her head in Silverbridge in these days, as it would become her to do if she retained her position. She did struggle gallantly, and succeeded much more nearly than she was herself aware. She was all but able to carry herself as though no terrible accusation was being made against her father. Of the struggle, however, she was not herself the less conscious, and she told herself that on that

two previous hours. During these interviews an immense amount of business was done, and the fortunes in life of some girls were said to have been there made or marred; as when, for instance, Miss Crimpton had been advised to stay at home with her uncle in England, instead of going out with her sisters to India, both of which sisters were m

Prettyman, were always asked to sit in the arm-chair, whereas a small, straight-backed, uneasy chair was kept for the use of the young ladies. And there was, too

ry quickly. "Miss Prettyman," she said, "I have ma

s of impressive trappings. The possessor of an unobservant eye might have called her a mean-looking, little old woman. And certainly there would have been nothing awful in her to any one who came across her otherwise than as a lady having authority in her own school. But within her own precincts, she did know how

be with mamma at p

has your sist

rettyman; Ja

reason now. Of course your mother would like to have you always; unless y

rse the

to be known,-I do not think, I say, that there can b

age, and collecting her words; and after that she spok

, Gr

g to say, Miss Prettyman;

me, you may be s

nothing wrong; but nevertheless we are disgraced. The police are to bring him in here on Thursday, and everybody in Silverbridge will know it. It cannot be right that I should be here teaching in the school, while it is all going on;-and I won't. And, Miss Pretty

the other re

race, struggling to sp

you that in my opinion you ought to remain where you are, and not go away. The very rea

t mind you and Miss Anne, but I can't bear to

d by Miss Prettyman's elbow. Miss Prettyman pushed her chair a little back, and pushed herself a little forward, and stretching out one hand, placed her arm round Grace's waist, and with the other took hold of Grace's hand, and thus drew her down and kissed the girl's forehead and lips. And then Grace found herself kneeling at her friend's feet. "Grac

you were my own," sa

to E

o home,"

of it. No one in this house, you know, has the slightest suspicion th

hat you h

ugh no one in that house beyond herself and her sis

that," s

dear. If w

rvants, Mis

s house says a word to

rettyman, but they look. Indeed

d burden enough, without having another mouth to feed, and

, I

ld papers that want copying and settling, and you shall sit here and do that just for an employment. Anne

t humble, a tap which acknowledged, on the part of the tapper, the supremacy in that room of the lady who was sitting there, but which still claimed admittance almost as a right. The tap was well known by bo

said Miss Anne, opening the

which seemed to be intended to assert her supremacy. But, in truth, she was simply c

Grace Crawley was h

is here," said

Grace?" said Miss A

now," said M

e were my own sister," said Anne. "But, Ann

, in p

n private, if G

eavy burden of thought was lying, stopped her suddenly. "Grace, my dear," she s

he go to the school?

ly, as though driven to make a reply which she knew to

Grace went to her room, never turning an eye down

ere, asking to see