She came to him late in the evening when his sister and father had just left him, and sitting with her hand upon his, spoke one word, which perhaps had more weight with Harry than any word that had yet been spoken. “Have you slept, dear?” she said.
“A little before my father came in.”
“My darling,” she said—“you will be true to Florence; will you not?” Then there was a pause. “My own Harry, tell me that you will be true where your truth is due.”
“I will, mother,” he said.
“My own boy; my darling boy; my own true gentleman!” Harry felt that he did not deserve the praise; but praise undeserved, though it may be satire in disguise, is often very useful.
XXXV
Parting
On the next day Harry was not better, but the doctor still said that there was no cause for alarm. He was suffering from a low fever, and his sister had better be kept out of his room. He would not sleep, and was restless, and it might be some time before he could return to London.
Early in the day the rector came into his son’s bedroom, and told him and his mother, who was there, the news which he had just heard from the great house. “Hugh has come home,” he said, “and is going out yachting for the rest of the summer. They are going to Norway in Jack Stuart’s yacht. Archie is going with them.” Now Archie was known to be a great man in a yacht, cognizant of ropes, well up in booms and spars, very intimate with bolts, and one to whose hands a tiller came as naturally as did the saddle of a steeplechase horse to the legs of his friend Doodles. “They are going to fish,” said the rector.
“But Jack Stuart’s yacht is only a river-boat—or just big enough for Cowes harbour, but nothing more,” said Harry, roused in his bed to some excitement by the news.
“I know nothing about Jack Stuart or his boat either,” said the rector; “but that’s what they told me. He’s down here, at any rate, for I saw the servant that came with him.”
“What a shame it is,” said Mrs. Clavering—“a scandalous shame.”
“You mean his going away?” said the rector.
“Of course I do;—his leaving her here by herself, all alone. He can have no heart;—after losing her child and suffering as she has done. It makes me ashamed of my own name.”
“You can’t alter him, my dear. He has his good qualities and his bad—and the bad ones are by far the more conspicuous.”
“I don’t know any good qualities he has.”
“He does not get into debt. He will not destroy the property. He will leave the family after him as well off as it was before him—and though he is a hard man, he does nothing actively cruel. Think of Lord Ongar, and then you’ll remember that there are worse men than Hugh. Not that I like him. I am never comfortable for a moment in his presence. I always feel that he wants to quarrel with me, and that I almost want to quarrel with him.”
“I detest him,” said Harry, from beneath the bedclothes.
“You won’t be troubled with him any more this summer, for he means to be off in less than a week.”
“And what is she to do?” asked Mrs. Clavering.
“Live here as she has done ever since Julia married. I don’t see that it will make much difference to her. He’s never with her when he’s in England, and I should think she must be more comfortable without him than with him.”
“It’s a great catch for Archie,” said Harry.
“Archie Clavering is a fool,” said Mrs. Clavering.
“They say he understands a yacht,” said the rector, who then left the room.
The rector’s news was all true. Sir Hugh Clavering had come down to the Park, and had announced his intention of going to Norway in Jack Stuart’s yacht. Archie also had been invited to join the party. Sir Hugh intended to leave the Thames in about a week, and had not thought it necessary to give his wife any intimation of the fact, till he told her himself of his intention. He took, I think, a delight in being thus over-harsh in his harshness to her. He proved to himself thus not only that he was master, but that he would be master without any let or drawback, without compunctions, and even without excuses for his ill-conduct. There should be no plea put in by him in his absences, that he had only gone to catch a few fish, when his intentions had been other than piscatorial. He intended to do as he liked now and always—and he intended that his wife should know that such was his intention. She was now childless, and therefore he had no other terms to keep with her than those which appertained to her necessities for bed and board. There was the house, and she might live in it; and there were the butchers and the bakers, and other tradesmen to supply her wants. Nay;—there were the old carriage and the old horses at her disposal, if they could be of any service to her. Such were Sir Hugh Clavering’s ideas as to the bonds inflicted upon him by his marriage vows.
“I’m going to Norway next week.” It was thus Sir Hugh communicated his intention to his wife within five minutes of their first greeting.
“To Norway, Hugh?”
“Yes;—why not to Norway? I and one or two others have got some fishing there. Archie is going too. It will keep him from spending his money;—or rather from spending money which isn’t
