The Claverings

  CHAPTER X.

  FLORENCE BURTON AT THE RECTORY.

  [Illustration.]

  Harry Clavering went down to Stratton, slept one night at old Mr.Burton's house, and drove Florence over to Clavering,--twenty milesacross the country,--on the following day. This journey togetherhad been looked forward to with great delight by both of them, andFlorence, in spite of the snubbing which she had received from herlover because of her prudence, was very happy as she seated herselfalongside of him in the vehicle which had been sent over from therectory, and which he called a trap. Not a word had as yet been saidbetween them as to that snubbing, nor was Harry minded that anythingshould be said. He meant to carry on his revenge by being dumb onthat subject. But such was not Florence's intention. She desired notonly to have her own way in this matter, but desired also that heshould assent to her arrangements.

  It was a charming day for such a journey. It was cold, but not coldenough to make them uncomfortable. There was a wind, but not windenough to torment them. Once there came on a little shower, whichjust sufficed to give Harry an opportunity of wrapping his companionvery closely, but he had hardly completed the ceremony before thenecessity for it was over. They both agreed that this mode oftravelling was infinitely preferable to a journey by railroad, and Imyself should be of the same opinion if one could always make one'sjourneys under the same circumstances. And it must be understood thatHarry, though no doubt he was still taking his revenge on Florence byabstaining from all allusion to her letter, was not disposed to makehimself otherwise disagreeable. He played his part of lover verywell, and Florence was supremely happy.

  "Harry," she said, when the journey was more than half completed,"you never told me what you thought of my letter."

  "Which letter?" But he knew very well which was the letter inquestion.

  "My prudent letter,--written in answer to yours that was veryimprudent."

  "I thought there was nothing more to be said about it."

  "Come, Harry, don't let there be any subject between us that wedon't care to think about and discuss. I know what you meant by notanswering me. You meant to punish me,--did you not, for having anopinion different from yours? Is not that true, Harry?"

  "Punish you,--no; I did not want to punish you. It was I that waspunished, I think."

  "But you know I was right. Was I not right?"

  "I think you were wrong, but I don't want to say anything more aboutit now."

  "Ah, but, Harry, I want you to talk about it. Is it not everythingto me,--everything in this world,--that you and I should agree aboutthis? I have nothing else to think of but you. I have nothing to hopefor but that I may live to be your wife. My only care in the world ismy care for you! Come, Harry, don't be glum with me."

  "I am not glum."

  "Speak a nice word to me. Tell me that you believe me when I say thatit is not of myself I am thinking, but of you."

  "Why can't you let me think for myself in this?"

  "Because you have got to think for me."

  "And I think you'd do very well on the income we've got. If you'llconsent to marry, this summer, I won't be glum, as you call it, amoment longer."

  "No, Harry; I must not do that. I should be false to my duty to youif I did."

  "Then it's no use saying anything more about it."

  "Look here, Harry, if an engagement for two years is tedious toyou--"

  "Of course it is tedious. Is not waiting for anything always tedious?There's nothing I hate so much as waiting."

  "But listen to me," said she, gravely. "If it is too tedious, if itis more than you think you can bear without being unhappy, I willrelease you from your engagement."

  "Florence!"

  "Hear me to the end. It will make no change in me; and then if youlike to come to me again at the end of the two years, you may be sureof the way in which I shall receive you."

  "And what good would that do?"

  "Simply this good, that you would not be bound in a manner that makesyou unhappy. If you did not intend that when you asked me to be yourwife-- Oh, Harry, all I want is to make you happy. That is all that Icare for, all that I think about!"

  Harry swore to her with ten thousand oaths that he would not releaseher from any part of her engagement with him, that he would giveher no loophole of escape from him, that he intended to hold her sofirmly that if she divided herself from him, she should be accountedamong women a paragon of falseness. He was ready, he said, to marryher to-morrow. That was his wish, his idea of what would be best forboth of them;--and after that, if not to-morrow, then on the nextday, and so on till the day should come on which she should consentto become his wife. He went on also to say that he should continue totorment her on the subject about once a week till he had induced herto give way; and then he quoted a Latin line to show that a constantdropping of water will hollow a stone. This was somewhat at variancewith a declaration he had made to Mrs. Burton, in Onslow Crescent,to the effect that he would never speak to Florence again upon thesubject; but then men do occasionally change their minds, and HarryClavering was a man who often changed his.

  Florence, as he made the declaration above described, thought thathe played his part of lover very well, and drew herself a littlecloser to him as she thanked him for his warmth. "Dear Harry, you areso good and so kind, and I do love you so truly!" In this way thejourney was made very pleasantly, and when Florence was driven up tothe rectory door she was quite contented with her coachman.

  Harry Clavering, who is the hero of our story, will not, I fear, havehitherto presented himself to the reader as having much of the heroicnature in his character. It will, perhaps, be complained of him thathe is fickle, vain, easily led, and almost as easily led to evil asto good. But it should be remembered that hitherto he has been ratherhardly dealt with in these pages, and that his faults and weaknesseshave been exposed almost unfairly. That he had such faults and wassubject to such weaknesses may be believed of him; but there may bea question whether as much evil would not be known of most men, letthem be heroes or not be heroes, if their characters were, so tosay, turned inside out before our eyes. Harry Clavering, fellow ofhis college, six feet high, with handsome face and person, and withplenty to say for himself on all subjects, was esteemed highly andregarded much by those who knew him, in spite of those little foibleswhich marred his character; and I must beg the reader to take theworld's opinion about him, and not to estimate him too meanly thusearly in this history of his adventures.

  If this tale should ever be read by any lady who, in the course ofher career, has entered a house under circumstances similar to thosewhich had brought Florence Burton to Clavering rectory, she willunderstand how anxious must have been that young lady when sheencountered the whole Clavering family in the hall. She had beenblown about by the wind, and her cloaks and shawls were heavy on her,and her hat was a little out of shape,--from some fault on the partof Harry, as I believe,--and she felt herself to be a dowdy as sheappeared among them. What would they think of her, and what wouldthey think of Harry in that he had chosen such an one to be his wife?Mrs. Clavering had kissed her before she had seen that lady's face;and Mary and Fanny had kissed her before she knew which was which;and then a stout, clerical gentleman kissed her who, no doubt, wasMr. Clavering, senior. After that, another clerical gentleman, verymuch younger and very much slighter, shook hands with her. He mighthave kissed her, too, had he been so minded, for Florence was tooconfused to be capable of making any exact reckoning in the matter.He might have done so--that is, as far as Florence was concerned. Itmay be a question whether Mary Clavering would not have objected;for this clerical gentleman was the Rev. Edward Fielding, who was tobecome her husband in three days' time.

  "Now, Florence," said Fanny, "come upstairs into mamma's room andhave some tea, and we'll look at you. Harry, you needn't come. You'vehad her to yourself for a long time, and can have her again in theevening."

  Florence, in this way, was taken upstairs and found herself seated bya fire, while three
pairs of hands were taking from her her shawlsand hat and cloak, almost before she knew where she was.

  "It is so odd to have you here," said Fanny. "We have only onebrother, so, of course, we shall make very much of you. Isn't shenice, mamma?"

  "I'm sure she is; very nice. But I shouldn't have told her so beforeher face, if you hadn't asked the question."

  "That's nonsense, mamma. You mustn't believe mamma when she pretendsto be grand and sententious. It's only put on as a sort of companyair, but we don't mean to make company of you."

  "Pray don't," said Florence.

  "I'm so glad you are come just at this time," said Mary. "I think somuch of having Harry's future wife at my wedding. I wish we were bothgoing to be married the same day."

  "But we are not going to be married for ever so long. Two years hencehas been the shortest time named."

  "Don't be sure of that, Florence," said Fanny. "We have all of usreceived a special commission from Harry to talk you out of thatheresy; have we not, mamma?"

  "I think you had better not tease Florence about that immediately onher arrival. It's hardly fair." Then, when they had drunk their tea,Florence was taken away to her own room, and before she was allowedto go downstairs she was intimate with both the girls, and had sofar overcome her awe of Harry's mother as to be able to answer herwithout confusion.

  "Well, sir, what do you think of her?" said Harry to his father, assoon as they were alone.

  "I have not had time to think much of her yet. She seems to be verypretty. She isn't so tall as I thought she would be."

  "No; she's not tall," said Harry, in a voice of disappointment.

  "I've no doubt we shall like her very much. What money is she tohave?"

  "A hundred a year while her father lives."

  "That's not much."

  "Much or little, it made no difference with me. I should never havethought of marrying a girl for her money. It's a kind of thing thatI hate. I almost wish she was to have nothing."

  "I shouldn't refuse it if I were you."

  "Of course, I shan't refuse it; but what I mean is that I neverthought about it when I asked her to have me; and I shouldn't havebeen a bit more likely to ask her if she had ten times as much."

  "A fortune with one's wife isn't a bad thing for a poor man, Harry."

  "But a poor man must be poor in more senses than one when he looksabout to get a fortune in that way."

  "I suppose you won't marry just yet," said the father. "Includingeverything, you would not have five hundred a year, and that would bevery close work in London."

  "It's not quite decided yet, sir. As far as I am myself concerned, Ithink that people are a great deal too prudent about money. I believeI could live as a married man on a hundred a year, if I had no more;and as for London, I don't see why London should be more expensivethan any other place. You can get exactly what you want in London,and make your halfpence go farther there than anywhere else."

  "And your sovereigns go quicker," said the rector.

  "All that is wanted," said Harry, "is the will to live on yourincome, and a little firmness in carrying out your plans."

  The rector of Clavering, as he heard all this wisdom fall from hisson's lips, looked at Harry's expensive clothes, at the ring on hisfinger, at the gold chain on his waistcoat, at the studs in hisshirt, and smiled gently. He was by no means so clever a man as hisson, but he knew something more of the world, and though not muchgiven to general reading, he had read his son's character. "A greatdeal of firmness and of fortitude also is wanted for that kindof life," he said. "There are men who can go through it withoutsuffering, but I would not advise any young man to commence it in ahurry. If I were you I should wait a year or two. Come, let's have awalk; that is, if you can tear yourself away from your lady-love foran hour. If there is not Saul coming up the avenue! Take your hat,Harry, and we'll get out the other way. He only wants to see thegirls about the school, but if he catches us he'll keep us for anhour." Then Harry asked after Mr. Saul's love-affairs. "I've notheard one single word about it since you went away," said the rector."It seems to have passed off like a dream. He and Fanny go on thesame as ever, and I suppose he knows that he made a fool of himself."But in this matter the rector of Clavering was mistaken. Mr. Saul didnot by any means think that he had made a fool of himself.

  "He has never spoken a word to me since," said Fanny to her brotherthat evening; "that is, not a word as to what occurred then. Ofcourse it was very embarrassing at first, though I don't think heminded it much. He came after a day or two just the same as ever, andhe almost made me think that he had forgotten it."

  "And he wasn't confused?"

  "Not at all. He never is. The only difference is that I think hescolds me more than he used to do."

  "Scold you!"

  "Oh dear, yes; he always scolded me if he thought there was anythingwrong, especially about giving the children holidays. But he does itnow more than ever."

  "And how do you bear it?"

  "In a half-and-half sort of way. I laugh at him, and then do as I'mbid. He makes everybody do what he bids them at Clavering,--exceptpapa, sometimes. But he scolds him, too. I heard him the other day inthe library."

  "And did my father take it from him?"

  "He did, in a sort of a way. I don't think papa likes him; but thenhe knows, and we all know, that he is so good. He never spareshimself in anything. He has nothing but his curacy, and what he givesaway is wonderful."

  "I hope he won't take to scolding me," said Harry, proudly.

  "As you don't concern yourself about the parish, I should say thatyou're safe. I suppose he thinks mamma does everything right, for henever scolds her."

  "There is no talk of his going away."

  "None at all. I think we should all be sorry, because he does so muchgood."

  Florence reigned supreme in the estimation of the rectory family allthe evening of her arrival and till after breakfast the next morning,but then the bride elect was restored to her natural pre-eminence.This, however, lasted only for two days, after which the bride wastaken away. The wedding was very nice, and pretty, and comfortable;and the people of Clavering were much better satisfied with it thanthey had been with that other marriage which has been mentioned ashaving been celebrated in Clavering Church. The rectory family wasgenerally popular, and everybody wished well to the daughter whowas being given away. When they were gone there was a breakfast atthe rectory, and speeches were made with much volubility. On suchan occasion the rector was a great man, and Harry also shone inconspicuous rivalry with his father. But Mr. Saul's spirit was not sowell tuned to the occasion as that of the rector or his son, and whenhe got upon his legs, and mournfully expressed a hope that his friendMr. Fielding might be enabled to bear the trials of this life withfortitude, it was felt by them all that the speaking had better bebrought to an end.

  "You shouldn't laugh at him, Harry," Fanny said to her brotherafterwards, almost seriously. "One man can do one thing and oneanother. You can make a speech better than he can, but I don't thinkyou could preach so good a sermon."

  "I declare I think you're getting fond of him after all," said Harry.Upon hearing this Fanny turned away with a look of great offence. "Noone but a brother," said she, "would say such a thing as that to me,because I don't like to hear the poor man ridiculed without cause."That evening, when they were alone, Fanny told Florence the wholestory about Mr. Saul. "I tell you, you know, because you're like oneof ourselves now. It has never been mentioned to any one out of thefamily."

  Florence declared that the story would be sacred with her.

  "I'm sure of that, dear, and therefore I like you to know it. Ofcourse such a thing was quite out of the question. The poor fellowhas no means at all,--literally none. And then, independently ofthat--"

  "I don't think I should ever bring myself to think of that as thefirst thing," said Florence.

  "No, nor would I. If I really were attached to a man, I think I wouldtell him so, and agree to wait, either with
hope or without it."

  "Just so, Fanny."

  "But there was nothing of that kind; and, indeed, he's the sort ofman that no girl would think of being in love with,--isn't he? Yousee he will hardly take the trouble to dress himself decently."

  "I have only seen him at a wedding, you know."

  "And for him he was quite bright. But you will see plenty of him ifyou will go to the schools with me. And indeed he comes here a greatdeal, quite as much as he did before that happened. He is so good,Florence!"

  "Poor man!"

  "I can't in the least make out from his manner whether he has givenup thinking about it. I suppose he has. Indeed, of course he has,because he must know that it would be of no sort of use. But he isone of those men of whom you can never say whether they are happy ornot; and you never can be quite sure what may be in his mind."

  "He is not bound to the place at all,--not like your father?"

  "Oh, no," said Fanny, thinking perhaps that Mr. Saul might findhimself to be bound to the place, though not exactly with bondssimilar to those which kept her father there.

  "If he found himself to be unhappy, he could go," said Florence.

  "Oh, yes; he could go if he were unhappy," said Fanny. "That is, hecould go if he pleased."

  Lady Clavering had come to the wedding; but no one else had beenpresent from the great house. Sir Hugh, indeed, was not at home; but,as the rector truly observed, he might have been at home if he had sopleased. "But he is a man," said the father to the son, "who alwaysdoes a rude thing if it be in his power. For myself, I care nothingfor him, as he knows. But he thinks that Mary would have liked tohave seen him as the head of the family, and therefore he does notcome. He has greater skill in making himself odious than any man Iever knew. As for her, they say he's leading her a terrible life. Andhe's becoming so stingy about money, too!"

  "I hear that Archie is very heavy on him."

  "I don't believe that he would allow any man to be heavy on him, asyou call it. Archie has means of his own, and I suppose has not runthrough them yet. If Hugh has advanced him money, you may be surethat he has security. As for Archie, he will come to an end verysoon, if what I hear is true. They tell me he is always at Newmarket,and that he always loses."

  But though Sir Hugh was thus uncourteous to the rector and to therector's daughter, he was so far prepared to be civil to his cousinHarry, that he allowed his wife to ask all the rectory family to dineup at the house, in honour of Harry's sweetheart. Florence Burtonwas specially invited with Lady Clavering's sweetest smile. Florence,of course, referred the matter to her hostess, but it was decidedthat they should all accept the invitation. It was given, personally,after the breakfast, and it is not always easy to decline invitationsso given. It may, I think, be doubted whether any man or woman has aright to give an invitation in this way, and whether all invitationsso given should not be null and void, from the fact of the unfairadvantage that has been taken. The man who fires at a sitting bird isknown to be no sportsman. Now, the dinner-giver who catches his guestin an unguarded moment, and bags him when he has had no chance torise upon his wing, does fire at a sitting bird. In this instance,however, Lady Clavering's little speeches were made only to Mrs.Clavering and to Florence. She said nothing personally to the rector,and he therefore might have escaped. But his wife talked him over.

  "I think you should go for Harry's sake," said Mrs. Clavering.

  "I don't see what good it will do Harry."

  "It will show that you approve of the match."

  "I don't approve or disapprove of it. He's his own master."

  "But you do approve, you know, as you countenance it; and therecannot possibly be a sweeter girl than Florence Burton. We all likeher, and I'm sure you seem to take to her thoroughly."

  "Take to her; yes, I take to her very well. She's ladylike, andthough she's no beauty, she looks pretty, and is spirited. And Idaresay she's clever."

  "And so good."

  "If she's good, that's better than all. Only I don't see what they'reto live on."

  "But as she is here, you will go with us to the great house?"

  Mrs. Clavering never asked her husband anything in vain, and therector agreed to go. He apologized for this afterwards to his son byexplaining that he did it as a duty. "It will serve for six months,"he said. "If I did not go there about once in six months, there wouldbe supposed to be a family quarrel, and that would be bad for theparish."

  Harry was to remain only a week at Clavering, and the dinner was totake place the evening before he went away. On that morning he walkedall round the park with Florence,--as he had before often walked withJulia,--and took that occasion of giving her a full history of theClavering family. "We none of us like my cousin Hugh," he had said."But she is at least harmless, and she means to be good-natured. Sheis very unlike her sister, Lady Ongar."

  "So I should suppose, from what you have told me."

  "Altogether an inferior being."

  "And she has only one child."

  "Only one,--a boy now two years old. They say he's anything butstrong."

  "And Sir Hugh has one brother."

  "Yes; Archie Clavering. I think Archie is a worse fellow even thanHugh. He makes more attempts to be agreeable, but there is somethingin his eye which I always distrust. And then he is a man who does nogood in the world to anybody."

  "He's not married?"

  "No; he's not married, and I don't suppose he ever will marry. It'son the cards, Florence, that the future baronet may be--" Then shefrowned on him, walked on quickly, and changed the conversation.