The Claverings

disregard, because she had been proud of his love! If she had not been there, the case might have been easier. Harry, as he thought of this, forgot to remind himself that if Sophie had not interrupted him he would have floundered on from one danger to another till he would have committed himself more thoroughly even than he had done, and have made promises which it would have been as shameful to break as it would be to keep them. But even as it was, had he not made such promises? Was there not such a promise in that embrace, in the half-forgotten word or two which he had spoken while she was in his arms, and in the parting grasp of his hand? He could not write that letter then, on that morning, hurried as he was with the necessity of his journey; and he started for Clavering resolving that it should be written from his father’s house.

It was a tedious, sad journey to him, and he was silent and out of spirits when he reached his home; but he had gone there for the purpose of his cousin’s funeral, and his mood was not at first noticed, as it might have been had the occasion been different. His father’s countenance wore that well-known look of customary solemnity which is found to be necessary on such occasions, and his mother was still thinking of the sorrows of Lady Clavering, who had been at the rectory for the last day or two.

“Have you seen Lady Ongar since she heard of the poor child’s death?” his mother asked.

“Yes, I was with her yesterday evening.”

“Do you see her often?” Fanny inquired.

“What do you call often? No; not often. I went to her last night because she had given me a commission. I have seen her three or four times altogether.”

“Is she as handsome as she used to be?” said Fanny.

“I cannot tell; I do not know.”

“You used to think her very handsome, Harry.”

“Of course she is handsome. There has never been a doubt about that; but when a woman is in deep mourning one hardly thinks about her beauty.” Oh, Harry, Harry, how could you be so false?

“I thought young widows were always particularly charming,” said Fanny; “and when one remembers about Lord Ongar one does not think of her being a widow so much as one would do if he had been different.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” said he. He felt that he was stupid, and that he blundered in every word, but he could not help himself. It was impossible that he should talk about Lady Ongar with proper composure. Fanny saw that the subject annoyed him and that it made him cross, and she therefore ceased. “She wrote a very nice letter to your mother about the poor child, and about her sister,” said the rector. “I wish with all my heart that Hermione could go to her for a time.”

“I fear that he will not let her,” said Mrs. Clavering. “I do not understand it all, but Hermione says that the rancour between Hugh and her sister is stronger now than ever.”

“And Hugh will not be the first to put rancour out of his heart,” said the rector.

On the following day was the funeral and Harry went with his father and cousins to the child’s grave. When he met Sir Hugh in the dining-room in the Great House the baronet hardly spoke to him. “A sad occasion; is it not?” said Archie; “very sad; very sad.” Then Harry could see that Hugh scowled at his brother angrily, hating his humbug, and hating it the more because in Archie’s case it was doubly humbug. Archie was now heir to the property and to the title.

After the funeral Harry went to see Lady Clavering, and again had to endure a conversation about Lady Ongar. Indeed, he had been specially commissioned by Julia to press upon her sister the expediency of leaving Clavering for a while. This had been early on that last evening in Bolton Street, long before Madame Gordeloup had made her appearance. “Tell her from me,” Lady Ongar had said, “that I will go anywhere that she may wish if she will go with me⁠—she and I alone; and, Harry, tell her this as though I meant it. I do mean it. She will understand why I do not write myself. I know that he sees all her letters when he is with her.” This task Harry was now to perform, and the result he was bound to communicate to Lady Ongar. The message he might give; but delivering the answer to Lady Ongar would be another thing.

Lady Clavering listened to what he said, but when he pressed her for a reply she shook her head. “And why not, Lady Clavering?”

“People can’t always leave their houses and go away, Harry.”

“But I should have thought that you could have done so now;⁠—that is, before long. Will Sir Hugh remain here at Clavering?”

“He has not told me that he means to go.”

“If he stays, I suppose you will stay; but if he goes up to London again, I cannot see why you and your sister should not go away together. She mentioned Tenby as being very quiet, but she would be guided by you in that altogether.”

“I do not think it will be possible, Harry. Tell her with my love, that I am truly obliged to her, but that I do not think it will be possible. She is free, you know, to do what she pleases.”

“Yes, she is free. But do you mean⁠—?”

“I mean, Harry, that I had better stay where I am. What is the use of a scene, and of being refused at last? Do not say more about it, but tell her that it cannot be so.” This Harry promised to do, and after a while was rising to go, when she suddenly asked him a question. “Do you remember what I was saying