Granger by her side, offering his arm in his stately way when the
procession began to file off to the dining-room, oblivious of the claims
which my lady's matronly guests might have upon him.
Throughout that evening Mr. Granger was more or less by Clarissa's side.
His daughter, perceiving this with a scarcely concealed astonishment,
turned a deaf ear to the designing compliments of Captain Westleigh (who
told himself that a fellow might just as well go in for a good thing as
not when he had a chance), and came across the room to take part in her
parent's conversation. She even tried to lure him away on some pretence
or other; but this was vain. He seemed rooted to his chair by Clarissa's
side--she listlessly turning over a folio volume of steel plates, he
pointing out landscapes and scenes which had been familiar to him in his
continental rambles, and remarking upon them in a somewhat disjointed
fashion--"Marathon, yes--rather flat, isn't it? But the mountains make a
fine background. We went there with guides one day, when I was a young man.
The Acropolis--hum! ha!--very fine ruins, but a most inconvenient place to
get at. Would you like to see Greece, Miss Lovel?"
Clarissa gave a little sigh--half pain, half rapture. What chance had she
of ever treading that illustrious soil, of ever emerging from the bondage
of her dull life? She glanced across the room to the distant spot where
Lady Geraldine and George Fairfax sat playing chess.
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