ng Park, but
that if her sister would go elsewhere with her--to some place, perhaps,
on the sea-side--she would be glad to accompany her; and she used many
arguments in her letter to show that such an arrangement as this had
better be made.

"You will be with my sister," she had said; "and she will understand why
I do not write to her myself, and will not think that it comes from
coldness." This had been written before Lady Ongar saw Harry Clavering.

Mr. Clavering, when he got to the great house, was immediately shown
into the room in which the baronet and his younger brother were sitting.
They had, some time since, finished dinner, but the decanters were still
on the table before them. "Hugh," said the, rector, walking up to his
elder nephew briskly, "I grieve for you. I grieve, for you from the
bottom of my heart."

"Yes," said Hugh, "it has been a heavy blow. Sit down, uncle. There is a
clean glass there, or Archie will fetch you one." Then Archie looked out
a clean glass, and passed the decanter; but of this the rector took no
direct notice.

"It has been a blow, my poor boy--a heavy blow," said the rector. "None
heavier could have fallen. But our sorrows come from Heaven, as do our
blessings, and must be accepted."

"We are all like grass," said Archie, "and must be cut down in our
turns." Archie, in saying this, intended to put on his best behavior. He
was as sincere as he knew how to be.

"Come, Archie, none of that," said his brother. "It is my uncle's
trade."

"Hugh," said the rector, "unless you can think of it so, you will find
no comfort."

"And I expect none, so there is an end of that. Different people think
of these things differently, you know, and it is of no more use for me
to bother you than it is for you to bother me. My boy has gone, and I
know that he will not come back to me. I shall never have another, and
it is hard to bear. But, meaning no offence to you, I would sooner be
left to bear it in my own way. If I were to talk about grass, as Archie
did just now, it would be a humbug, and I hate humbug. No offence to
you. Take some wine, uncle." But the rector could not drink wine in that
presence, and therefore he escaped as soon as he could. He spoke one
word of intended comfort to Lady Clavering, and then returned to the
rectory.

Chapter XXIV

Yes; Wrong--Certainly Wrong

Harry Clavering had heard the news of his little cousin's death before
he went to Bolton Street to