ange the settled programme. So she went back to the
open door of the room, that her retreating step might not be heard by
him as he should come up to her, and standing there she still listened.
The house was silent and her ears were acute with sorrow. She could hear
the movement of the old woman as she gently, tremblingly, as Lady
Clavering knew, made her way down the hall to meet her master. Sir Hugh
of course had learned his child's fate already from the servant who had
met him; but it was well that the ceremony of such telling should be
performed. She felt the cold air come in from the opened front door, and
she heard her husband's heavy, quick step as he entered. Then she heard
the murmur of Hannah's voice; but the first word she heard was in her
husband's tones, "Where is Lady Clavering?" Then the answer was given,
and the wife, knowing that he was coming, retreated to her chair.

But still he did not come quite at once. He was pulling off his coat and
laying aside his hat and gloves. Then came upon her a feeling that at
such a time any other husband and wife would have been at once in each
other's arms. And at the moment she thought of all that they had lost.
To her her child had been all and everything. To him he had been his
heir and the prop of his house. The boy had been the only link that had
still bound them together. Now he was gone, and there was no longer any
link between them. He was gone, and she had nothing left to her. He was
gone, and the father was so alone in the world, without any heir and
with no prop to his house. She thought of all this as she heard his step
coming slowly up the stairs. Slowly he came along the passage, and
though she dreaded his coming, it almost seemed as though he would never
be there.

When he had entered the room she was the first to speak. "Oh, Hugh!" she
exclaimed, "oh, Hugh!" He had closed the door before he uttered a word,
and then he threw himself into a chair. There were candles near to him,
and she could see that his countenance also was altered. He had indeed
been stricken hard, and his half-stunned face showed the violence of the
blow. The harsh, cruel, selfish man had at last been made to suffer.
Although he had spoken of it and had expected it, the death of his heir
hit him hard, as the rector had said.

"When did he die?" asked the father.

"It was past four, I think." Then there was again silence, and Lady
Clavering went up to her husband and stood close by