Read The Claverings Page 23


  CHAPTER XXII.

  THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL.

  [Illustration.]

  Harry Clavering, when he walked away from Bolton Street after thescene in which he had been interrupted by Sophie Gordeloup, wasnot in a happy frame of mind, nor did he make his journey down toClavering with much comfort to himself. Whether or no he was now tobe regarded as a villain, at any rate he was not a villain capable ofdoing his villany without extreme remorse and agony of mind. It didnot seem to him to be even yet possible that he should be altogetheruntrue to Florence. It hardly occurred to him to think that he couldfree himself from the contract by which he was bound to her. No; itwas towards Lady Ongar that his treachery must be exhibited;--towardsthe woman whom he had sworn to befriend, and whom he now, in hisdistress, imagined to be the dearer to him of the two. He should,according to his custom, have written to Florence a day or two beforehe left London, and, as he went to Bolton Street, had determined todo so that evening on his return home; but when he reached his roomshe found it impossible to write such a letter. What could he say toher that would not be false? How could he tell her that he loved her,and speak as he was wont to do of his impatience, after that whichhad just occurred in Bolton Street?

  But what was he to do in regard to Julia? He was bound to let herknow at once what was his position, and to tell her that in treatingher as he had treated her, he had simply insulted her. That lookof gratified contentment with which she had greeted him as hewas leaving her, clung to his memory and tormented him. Of thatcontentment he must now rob her, and he was bound to do so with aslittle delay as was possible. Early in the morning before he startedon his journey he did make an attempt, a vain attempt, to write, notto Florence but to Julia. The letter would not get itself written. Hehad not the hardihood to inform her that he had amused himself withher sorrows, and that he had injured her by the exhibition of hislove. And then that horrid Franco-Pole, whose prying eyes Julia haddared to disregard, because she had been proud of his love! If shehad not been there, the case might have been easier. Harry, as hethought of this, forgot to remind himself that if Sophie had notinterrupted him he would have floundered on from one danger toanother till he would have committed himself more thoroughly eventhan he had done, and have made promises which it would have been asshameful 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 thatembrace, in the half-forgotten word or two which he had spoken whileshe was in his arms, and in the parting grasp of his hand? He couldnot write that letter then, on that morning, hurried as he was withthe necessity of his journey; and he started for Clavering resolvingthat it should be written from his father's house.

  It was a tedious, sad journey to him, and he was silent and outof spirits when he reached his home; but he had gone there for thepurpose of his cousin's funeral, and his mood was not at firstnoticed, as it might have been had the occasion been different. Hisfather's countenance wore that well-known look of customary solemnitywhich is found to be necessary on such occasions, and his mother wasstill thinking of the sorrows of Lady Clavering, who had been at therectory 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 nightbecause she had given me a commission. I have seen her three or fourtimes 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 herbeauty." Oh, Harry, Harry, how could you be so false?

  "I thought young widows were always particularly charming," saidFanny; "and when one remembers about Lord Ongar one does not think ofher 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 wasstupid, and that he blundered in every word, but he could not helphimself. It was impossible that he should talk about Lady Ongar withproper composure. Fanny saw that the subject annoyed him and thatit made him cross, and she therefore ceased. "She wrote a very niceletter to your mother about the poor child, and about her sister,"said the rector. "I wish with all my heart that Hermione could go toher for a time."

  "I fear that he will not let her," said Mrs. Clavering. "I do notunderstand it all, but Hermione says that the rancour between Hughand 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 fatherand cousins to the child's grave. When he met Sir Hugh in thedining-room in the Great House the baronet hardly spoke to him. "Asad occasion; is it not?" said Archie; "very sad; very sad." ThenHarry could see that Hugh scowled at his brother angrily, hating hishumbug, and hating it the more because in Archie's case it was doublyhumbug. Archie was now heir to the property and to the title.

  After the funeral Harry went to see Lady Clavering, and again had toendure a conversation about Lady Ongar. Indeed, he had been speciallycommissioned by Julia to press upon her sister the expediency ofleaving Clavering for a while. This had been early on that lastevening in Bolton Street, long before Madame Gordeloup had made herappearance. "Tell her from me," Lady Ongar had said, "that I will goanywhere 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. Shewill understand why I do not write myself. I know that he sees allher 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 messagehe might give; but delivering the answer to Lady Ongar would beanother thing.

  Lady Clavering listened to what he said, but when he pressed her fora 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 Londonagain, I cannot see why you and your sister should not go awaytogether. She mentioned Tenby as being very quiet, but she would beguided 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 bepossible. 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 ofa scene, and of being refused at last? Do not say more about it, buttell her that it cannot be so." This Harry promised to do, and aftera while was rising to go, when she suddenly asked him a question. "Doyou remember what I was saying about Julia and Archie when you werehere last?"

  "Yes; I remember."

  "Well, would he have a chance? It seems that you see more of her nowthan any one else."

  "No chance at all, I should say." And Harry, as he answered, couldnot repress a feeling of most unreasonable jealousy.

  "Ah, you have always thought little of Archie. Archie's position ischanged now, Harry, since my darling was taken from me. Of course hewill marry, and Hugh, I think, would like him to marry Julia. It washe proposed it. He never likes anything unless he has proposed ithimself."

  "It was he proposed the marriage with Lord Ongar. Does he like that?"

  "Well; you know, Julia has got her money." Harry, as he heard this,turned away, sick at heart. The poor baby whose mother was nowspeaking to him had only been buried that morning, and she wasalready making fresh schemes for family wealth. Julia has got hermoney! That had seemed to her, even in her sorrow, to be sufficientcompensation for all
that her sister had endured and was enduring.Poor soul! Harry did not reflect as he should have done, that in allher schemes she was only scheming for that peace which might perhapscome to her if her husband were satisfied. "And why should not Juliatake him?" she asked.

  "I cannot tell why, but she never will," said Harry, almost in anger.At that moment the door was opened, and Sir Hugh came into the room."I did not know that you were here," Sir Hugh said, turning to thevisitor.

  "I could not be down here without saying a few words to LadyClavering."

  "The less said the better, I suppose, just at present," said SirHugh. But there was no offence in the tone of his voice, or in hiscountenance, and Harry took the words as meaning none.

  "I was telling Lady Clavering that as soon as she can, she would bebetter if she left home for awhile."

  "And why should you tell Lady Clavering that?"

  "I have told him that I would not go," said the poor woman.

  "Why should she go, and where; and why have you proposed it? And howdoes it come to pass that her going or not going should be a matterof solicitude to you?" Now, as Sir Hugh asked these questions ofhis cousin, there was much of offence in his tone,--of intendedoffence,--and in his eye, and in all his bearing. He had turned hisback upon his wife, and was looking full into Harry's face. "LadyClavering, no doubt, is much obliged to you," he said, "but why is itthat you specially have interfered to recommend her to leave her homeat such a time as this?"

  Harry had not spoken as he did to Sir Hugh without having made somecalculation in his own mind as to the result of what he was aboutto say. He did not, as regarded himself, care for his cousin or hiscousin's anger. His object at present was simply that of carrying outLady Ongar's wish, and he had thought that perhaps Sir Hugh might notobject to the proposal which his wife was too timid to make to him.

  "It was a message from her sister," said Harry, "sent by me."

  "Upon my word she is very kind. And what was the message,--unless itbe a secret between you three?"

  "I have had no secret, Hugh," said his wife.

  "Let me hear what he has to say," said Sir Hugh.

  "Lady Ongar thought that it might be well that her sister shouldleave Clavering for a short time, and has offered to go anywhere withher for a few weeks. That is all."

  "And why the devil should Hermione leave her own house? And ifshe were to leave it, why should she go with a woman that hasmisconducted herself?"

  "Oh, Hugh!" exclaimed Lady Clavering.

  "Lady Ongar has never misconducted herself," said Harry.

  "Are you her champion?" asked Sir Hugh.

  "As far as that, I am. She has never misconducted herself; and whatis more, she has been cruelly used since she came home."

  "By whom; by whom?" said Sir Hugh, stepping close up to his cousinand looking with angry eyes into his face.

  But Harry Clavering was not a man to be intimidated by the angry eyesof any man. "By you," he said, "her brother-in-law;--by you, who madeup her wretched marriage, and who, of all others, were the most boundto protect her."

  "Oh, Harry, don't, don't!" shrieked Lady Clavering.

  "Hermione, hold your tongue," said the imperious husband; "or,rather, go away and leave us. I have a word or two to say to HarryClavering, which had better be said in private."

  "I will not go if you are going to quarrel."

  "Harry," said Sir Hugh, "I will trouble you to go downstairs beforeme. If you will step into the breakfast-room I will come to you."

  Harry Clavering did as he was bid, and in a few minutes was joined byhis cousin in the breakfast-room.

  "No doubt you intended to insult me by what you said upstairs." Thebaronet began in this way after he had carefully shut the door, andhad slowly walked up to the rug before the fire, and had there takenhis position.

  "Not at all; I intended to take the part of an ill-used woman whomyou had calumniated."

  "Now look here, Harry, I will have no interference on your part inmy affairs, either here or elsewhere. You are a very fine fellow, nodoubt, but it is not part of your business to set me or my house inorder. After what you have just said before Lady Clavering you willdo well not to come here in my absence."

  "Neither in your absence nor in your presence."

  "As to the latter you may do as you please. And now touching mysister-in-law, I will simply recommend you to look after your ownaffairs."

  "I shall look after what affairs I please."

  "Of Lady Ongar and her life since her marriage I daresay you know aslittle as anybody in the world, and I do not suppose it likely thatyou will learn much from her. She made a fool of you once, and it ison the cards that she may do so again."

  "You said just now that you would brook no interference in youraffairs. Neither will I."

  "I don't know that you have any affairs in which any one caninterfere. I have been given to understand that you are engagedto marry that young lady whom your mother brought here one day todinner. If that be so, I do not see how you can reconcile it toyourself to become the champion, as you called it, of Lady Ongar."

  "I never said anything of the kind."

  "Yes, you did."

  "No; it was you who asked me whether I was her champion."

  "And you said you were."

  "So far as to defend her name when I heard it traduced by you."

  "By heavens, your impudence is beautiful. Who knows her best, do youthink,--you or I? Whose sister-in-law is she? You have told me I wascruel to her. Now to that I will not submit, and I require you toapologize to me."

  "I have no apology to make, and nothing to retract."

  "Then I shall tell your father of your gross misconduct, and shallwarn him that you have made it necessary for me to turn his sonout of my house. You are an impertinent, overbearing puppy, and ifyour name were not the same as my own, I would tell the grooms tohorsewhip you off the place."

  "Which order, you know, the grooms would not obey. They would a dealsooner horsewhip you. Sometimes I think they will, when I hear youspeak to them."

  "Now go!"

  "Of course I shall go. What would keep me here?"

  Sir Hugh then opened the door, and Harry passed through it, notwithout a cautious look over his shoulder, so that he might be on hisguard if any violence were contemplated. But Hugh knew better thanthat, and allowed his cousin to walk out of the room, and out of thehouse, unmolested.

  And this had happened on the day of the funeral! Harry Clavering hadquarrelled thus with the father within a few hours of the moment inwhich they two had stood together over the grave of that father'sonly child! As he thought of this while he walked across the park hebecame sick at heart. How vile, wretched and miserable was the worldaround him! How terribly vicious were the people with whom he wasdealing! And what could he think of himself,--of himself, who wasengaged to Florence Burton, and engaged also, as he certainly was,to Lady Ongar? Even his cousin had rebuked him for his treachery toFlorence; but what would his cousin have said had he known all? Andthen what good had he done;--or rather what evil had he not done?In his attempt on behalf of Lady Clavering had he not, in truth,interfered without proper excuse, and fairly laid himself open toanger from his cousin? And he felt that he had been an ass, a fool,a conceited ass, thinking that he could produce good, when hisinterference could be efficacious only for evil. Why could he nothave held his tongue when Sir Hugh came in, instead of making thatvain suggestion as to Lady Clavering? But even this trouble was butan addition to the great trouble that overwhelmed him. How was he toescape the position which he had made for himself in reference toLady Ongar? As he had left London he had promised to himself thathe would write to her that same night and tell her everything as toFlorence; but the night had passed, and the next day was nearly gone,and no such letter had been written.

  As he sat with his father that evening, he told the story of hisquarrel with his cousin. His father shrugged his shoulders and raisedhis eyebrows. "You are a bolder man than I am," he said. "I cer
tainlyshould not have dared to advise Hugh as to what he should do with hiswife."

  "But I did not advise him. I only said that I had been talking to herabout it. If he were to say to you that he had been recommending mymother to do this or that, you would not take it amiss?"

  "But Hugh is a peculiar man."

  "No man has a right to be peculiar. Every man is bound to accept suchusage as is customary in the world."

  "I don't suppose that it will signify much," said the rector. "Tohave your cousin's doors barred against you, either here or inLondon, will not injure you."

  "Oh, no; it will not injure me; but I do not wish you to think thatI have been unreasonable."

  The night went by and so did the next day, and still the letter didnot get itself written. On the third morning after the funeral heheard that Sir Hugh had gone away; but he, of course, did not go upto the house, remembering well that he had been warned by the masternot to do so in the master's absence. His mother, however, wentto Lady Clavering, and some intercourse between the families wasrenewed. He had intended to stay but one day after the funeral, butat the end of a week he was still at the rectory. It was Whitsuntidehe said, and he might as well take his holiday as he was down there.Of course they were glad that he should remain with them, but theydid not fail to perceive that things with him were not altogetherright; nor had Fanny failed to perceive that he had not oncementioned Florence's name since he had been at the rectory.

  "Harry," she said, "there is nothing wrong between you and Florence?"

  "Harry," she said, "there is nothing wrong betweenyou and Florence?"]

  "Wrong! what should there be wrong? What do you mean by wrong?"

  "I had a letter from her to-day and she asks where you are."

  "Women expect such a lot of letter-writing! But I have been remiss Iknow. I got out of my business way of doing things when I came downhere and have neglected it. Do you write to her to-morrow, and tellher that she shall hear from me directly I get back to town."

  "But why should you not write to her from here?"

  "Because I can get you to do it for me."

  Fanny felt that this was not at all like a lover, and not at all likesuch a lover as her brother had been. While Florence had been atClavering he had been most constant with his letters, and Fanny hadoften heard Florence boast of them as being perfect in their way. Shedid not say anything further at the present moment, but she knew thatthings were not altogether right. Things were by no means right. Hehad written neither to Lady Ongar nor to Florence, and the longerhe put off the task the more burdensome did it become. He was nowtelling himself that he would write to neither till he got back toLondon.

  On the day before he went, there came to him a letter from Stratton.Fanny was with him when he received it, and observed that he putit into his pocket without opening it. In his pocket he carried itunopened half the day, till he was ashamed of his own weakness. Atlast, almost in despair with himself, he broke the seal and forcedhimself to read it. There was nothing in it that need have alarmedhim. It contained hardly a word that was intended for a rebuke.

  "I wonder why you should have been two whole weeks without writing,"she said. "It seems so odd to me, because you have spoiled me by yourcustomary goodness. I know that other men when they are engaged donot trouble themselves with constant letter-writing. Even Theodore,who according to Cecilia is perfect, would not write to her then veryoften; and now, when he is away, his letters are only three lines.I suppose you are teaching me not to be exacting. If so, I will kissthe rod like a good child; but I feel it the more because the lessonhas not come soon enough."

  Then she went on in her usual strain, telling him of what she haddone, what she had read, and what she had thought. There was nosuspicion in her letter, no fear, no hint at jealousy. And sheshould have no further cause for jealousy! One of the two mustbe sacrificed, and it was most fitting that Julia should be thesacrifice. Julia should be sacrificed,--Julia and himself! But stillhe could not write to Florence till he had written to Julia. He couldnot bring himself to send soft, pretty, loving words to one womanwhile the other was still regarding him as her affianced lover.

  "Was your letter from Florence this morning?" Fanny asked him.

  "Yes; it was."

  "Had she received mine?"

  "I don't know. Of course she had. If you sent it by post of courseshe got it."

  "She might have mentioned it, perhaps."

  "I daresay she did. I don't remember."

  "Well, Harry; you need not be cross with me because I love the girlwho is going to be your wife. You would not like it if I did not careabout her."

  "I hate being called cross."

  "Suppose I were to say that I hated your being cross. I'm sure Ido;--and you are going away to-morrow, too. You have hardly said anice word to me since you have been home."

  Harry threw himself back into a chair almost in despair. He was notenough a hypocrite to say nice words when his heart within him wasnot at ease. He could not bring himself to pretend that things werepleasant.

  "If you are in trouble, Harry, I will not go on teasing you."

  "I am in trouble," he said.

  "And cannot I help you?"

  "No; you cannot help me. No one can help me. But do not ask anyquestions."

  "Oh, Harry! is it about money?"

  "No, no; it has nothing to do with money."

  "You have not really quarrelled with Florence?"

  "No; I have not quarrelled with her at all. But I will not answermore questions. And, Fanny, do not speak of this to my father ormother. It will be over before long, and then, if possible, I willtell you."

  "Harry, you are not going to fight with Hugh?"

  "Fight with Hugh! no. Not that I should mind it; but he is not foolenough for that. If he wanted fighting done, he would do it bydeputy. But there is nothing of that kind."

  She asked him no more questions, and on the next morning he returnedto London. On his table he found a note which he at once knew to befrom Lady Ongar, and which had come only that afternoon.

  "Come to me at once;--at once." That was all that the note contained.