The Claverings

Sir Henry Clavering with Harry and Fanny went to Stratton, but they left it on the following day. The father and son went up together to bid them farewell, on the eve of their departure, and to press upon them, over and over again, the fact that they were still to regard the Claverings of Clavering Park as their nearest relations and friends. The elder sister simply cried when this was said to her⁠—cried easily with plenteous tears, till the weeds which enveloped her seemed to be damp from the ever-running fountain. Hitherto, to weep had been her only refuge; but I think that even this had already become preferable to her former life. Lady Ongar assured Sir Henry, or Mr. Clavering, as he was still called till after their departure⁠—that she would always remember and accept his kindness. “And you will come to us?” said he. “Certainly; when I can make Hermy come. She will be better when the summer is here. And then, after that, we will think about it.” On this occasion she seemed to be quite cheerful herself, and bade Harry farewell with all the frank affection of an old friend.

“I have given up the house in Bolton Street,” she said to him.

“And where do you mean to live?”

“Anywhere; just as it may suit Hermy. What difference does it make? We are going to Tenby now, and though Tenby seems to me to have as few attractions as any place I ever knew, I daresay we shall stay there, simply because we shall be there. That is the consideration which weighs most with such old women as we are. Goodbye, Harry.”

“Goodbye, Julia. I hope that I may yet see you⁠—you and Hermy, happy before long.”

“I don’t know much about happiness, Harry. There comes a dream of it sometimes⁠—such as you have got now. But I will answer for this: you shall never hear of my being downhearted. At least not on my own account,” she added in a whisper. “Poor Hermy may sometimes drag me down. But I will do my best. And, Harry, tell your wife that I shall write to her occasionally⁠—once a year, or something like that; so that she need not be afraid. Goodbye, Harry.”

“Goodbye, Julia.” And so they parted.

Immediately on her arrival at Tenby, Lady Ongar communicated to Mr. Turnbull her intention of giving back to the Courton family, not only the place called Ongar Park, but also the whole of her income with the exception of eight hundred a year, so that in that respect she might be equal to her sister. This brought Mr. Turnbull down to Tenby, and there was interview after interview between the countess and the lawyer. The proposition, however, was made to the Courtons, and was absolutely refused by them. Ongar Park was accepted on behalf of the mother of the present earl; but as regarded the money, the widow of the late earl was assured by the elder surviving brother that no one doubted her right to it, or would be a party to accepting it from her. “Then,” said Lady Ongar, “it will accumulate in my hands, and I can leave it as I please in my will.”

“As to that, no one can control you,” said her brother-in-law⁠—who went to Tenby to see her; “but you must not be angry, if I advise you not to make any such resolution. Such hoards never have good results.” This good result, however, did come from the effort which the poor broken-spirited woman was making⁠—that an intimacy, and at last a close friendship, was formed between her and the relatives of her deceased lord.

And now my story is done. My readers will easily understand what would be the future life of Harry Clavering and his wife after the completion of that tour in Italy, and the birth of the heir⁠—the preparations for which made the tour somewhat shorter than Harry had intended. His father, of course, gave up to him the shooting, and the farming of the home farm⁠—and after a while, the management of the property. Sir Henry preached occasionally⁠—believing himself to preach much oftener than he did⁠—and usually performed some portion of the morning service.

“Oh, yes,” said Theodore Burton, in answer to some comfortable remark from his wife; “Providence has done very well for Florence. And Providence has done very well for him also;⁠—but Providence was making a great mistake when she expected him to earn his bread.”

Colophon

The Claverings
was published in 1866⁠–⁠1867 by
Anthony Trollope.

This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
David Reimer,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2005 by
Mike Mariano and Joseph E. Loewenstein
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans from
Google Books.

The cover page is adapted from
The Lovers,
a painting completed in 1855 by
William Powell Frith.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by
The League of Moveable Type.

The first edition of this ebook was released on
August 24, 2023, 8:50 p.m.
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at
standardebooks.org/ebooks/anthony-trollope/the-claverings.

The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.

Uncopyright

May you do good and not evil.
May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others.
May you share freely, never taking more than you give.

Copyright pages exist to tell you that you can’t do something. Unlike them, this Uncopyright page exists to tell you that the writing and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. The United States public domain represents our collective cultural heritage, and items in it are free for anyone in the United States to do almost anything at all with, without having