ght
only to be too proud to welcome to a seat among them!

And now came this other news that this Apollo was to be an Apollo
indeed! When the god first became a god again, there was still a cloud
upon the minds of the elder Burtons as to the means by which the
divinity was to be sustained. A god in truth, but a god with so very
moderate an annual income--unless, indeed, those old Burtons made it up
to an extent which seemed to them to be quite unnatural! There was joy
among the Burtons, of course, but the joy was somewhat dimmed by these
reflections as to the slight means of their Apollo. A lover who was not
an Apollo might wait; but, as they had learned already, there was danger
in keeping such a god as this suspended on the tenter-hooks of
expectation.

But now there came the further news! This Apollo of theirs had already a
place of his own among the gods of Olympus. He was the eldest son of a
man of large fortune, and would be a baronet! He had already declared
that he would marry at once--that his father wished him to do so, and
that an abundant income would be forthcoming. As to his eagerness for an
immediate marriage, no divinity in or out of the heavens could behave
better. Old Mrs. Burton, as she went through the process of taking him
again to her heart, remembered that that virtue had been his even before
the days of his backsliding had come--a warm-hearted, eager,
affectionate divinity, with only this against him, that he wanted some
careful looking after in these his unsettled days. "I really do think
that he'll be as fond of his own fireside as any other man, when he has
once settled down," said Mrs. Burton.

It will not, I hope, be taken as a blot on the character of this mother
that she was much elated at the prospect of the good things which were
to fall to her daughter's lot. For herself she desired nothing. For her
daughters she had coveted only good, substantial, painstaking husbands,
who would fear God and mind their business. When Harry Clavering had
come across her path and had demanded a daughter from her, after the
manner of the other young men who had learned the secrets of their
profession at Stratton, she had desired nothing more than that he and
Florence should walk in the path which had been followed by her sisters
and their husbands. But then had come that terrible fear, and now had
come these golden prospects. That her daughter should be Lady Clavering,
of Clavering Park! She could not