Immediately on his arrival in London he cross-questioned his brother as to his marriage prospects. “I suppose you are going with us?” Hugh said to Archie, as he caught him in the hall of the house in Berkeley Square on the morning after his arrival.
“O dear, yes,” said Archie. “I thought that was quite understood. I have been getting my traps together.” The getting of his traps together had consisted in the ordering of a sailor’s jacket with brass buttons, and three pair of white duck trousers.
“All right,” said Sir Hugh. “You had better come with me into the City this morning. I am going to Boxall’s in Great Thames Street.”
“Are you going to breakfast here?” asked Archie.
“No; you can come to me at the Union in about an hour. I suppose you have never plucked up courage to ask Julia to marry you?”
“Yes, I did,” said Archie.
“And what answer did you get?” Archie had found himself obliged to repudiate with alacrity the attack upon his courage which his brother had so plainly made; but, beyond that, the subject was one which was not pleasing to him. “Well, what did she say to you?” asked his brother, who had no idea of sparing Archie’s feelings in such a matter.
“She said;—indeed I don’t remember exactly what it was that she did say.”
“But she refused you?”
“Yes;—she refused me. I think she wanted me to understand that I had come to her too soon after Ongar’s death.”
“Then she must be an infernal hypocrite;—that’s all.” But of any hypocrisy in this matter the reader will acquit Lady Ongar, and will understand that Archie had merely lessened the severity of his own fall by a clever excuse. After that the two brothers went to Boxall’s in the City, and Archie, having been kept fagging all day, was sent in the evening to dine by himself at his own club.
Sir Hugh also was desirous of seeing Lady Ongar, and had caused his wife to say as much in that letter which she wrote to her sister. In this way an appointment had been made without any direct intercourse between Sir Hugh and his sister-in-law. They two had never met since the day on which Sir Hugh had given her away in Clavering Church. To Hugh Clavering, who was by no means a man of sentiment, this signified little or nothing. When Lady Ongar had returned a widow, and when evil stories against her had been rife, he had thought it expedient to have nothing to do with her. He did not himself care much about his sister-in-law’s morals; but should his wife become much complicated with a sister damaged in character there might come of it trouble and annoyance. Therefore, he had resolved that Lady Ongar should be dropped. But during the last few months things had in some respects changed. The Courton people—that is to say, Lord Ongar’s family—had given Hugh Clavering to understand that, having made inquiry, they were disposed to acquit Lady Ongar, and to declare their belief that she was subject to no censure. They did not wish themselves to know her, as no intimacy between them could now be pleasant; but they had felt it to be incumbent on them to say as much as that to Sir Hugh. Sir Hugh had not even told his wife, but he had twice suggested that Lady Ongar should be asked to Clavering Park. In answer to both these invitations, Lady Ongar had declined to go to Clavering Park.
And now Sir Hugh had a commission on his hands from the same Courton people, which made it necessary that he should see his sister-in-law, and Julia had agreed to receive him. To him, who was very hard in such matters, the idea of his visit was not made disagreeable by any remembrance of his own harshness to the woman whom he was going to see. He cared nothing about that, and it had not occurred to him that she would care much. But, in truth, she did care very much, and when the hour was coming on which Sir Hugh was to appear, she thought much of the manner in which it would become her to receive him. He had condemned her in that matter as to which any condemnation is an insult to a woman; and he had so condemned her, being her brother-in-law and her only natural male friend. In her sorrow she should have been able to lean upon him; but from the first, without any inquiry, he had believed the worst of her, and had withdrawn from her altogether his support, when the slightest support from him would have been invaluable to her. Could she forgive this? Never; never! She was not a woman to wish to forgive such an offence. It was an offence which it would be despicable in her to forgive. Many had offended her, some had injured her, one or two had insulted her; but to her thinking, no one had so offended her, had so injured her, had so grossly insulted her, as he had done. In what way then would it become her to receive him? Before his arrival she had made up her mind on this subject, and had resolved that she would, at least, say no word of her own wrongs.
“How do you do, Julia?” said Sir Hugh, walking into the room with a step which was perhaps unnaturally quick, and with his hand extended. Lady Ongar had thought of that too. She would give much to escape the touch of his hand, if it were possible; but she had told herself that she would best consult her own dignity by declaring no actual quarrel. So
