me. But what does all that
matter? He hasn't got a shilling. When I was a curate, we didn't think
of doing such things as that." Mr. Clavering had only been a curate for
twelve months, and during that time had become engaged to his present
wife with the consent of every one concerned. "But clergymen were
gentlemen then. I don't know what the Church will come to; I don't
indeed."

After this Harry went away upon his mission. What a farce it was that he
should be engaged to make straight the affairs of other people, when his
own affairs were so very crooked! As he walked up to the old farm-house
in which Mr. Saul was living, he thought of this, and acknowledged to
himself that he could hardly make himself in earnest about his sister's
affairs, because of his own troubles. He tried to fill himself with a
proper feeling of dignified wrath and high paternal indignation against
the poor curate; but under it all, and at the back of it all, and in
front of it all, there was ever present to him his own position. Did he
wish to escape from Lady Ongar; and if so, how was he to do it? And if
he did not escape from Lady Ongar, how was he ever to hold up his head
again?

He had sent a note to Mr. Saul on the previous evening giving notice of
his intended visit, and had received an answer, in which the curate had
promised that he would be at home. He had never been in Mr. Saul's room,
and as he entered it, felt more strongly than ever how incongruous was
the idea of Mr. Saul as a suitor to his sister. The Claverings had
always had things comfortable around them. They were a people who had
ever lived on Brussels carpets, and had seated themselves in capacious
chairs. Ormolu, damask hangings, and Sevres china were not familiar to
them; but they had never lacked anything that is needed for the comfort
of the first-class clerical world. Mr. Saul in his abode boasted but few
comforts. He inhabited a big bed-room, in which there was a vast
fireplace and a very small grate--the grate being very much more modern
than the fireplace. There was a small rag of a carpet near the hearth,
and on this stood a large deal table--a table made of unalloyed deal,
without any mendacious paint, putting forward a pretence in the
direction of mahogany. One wooden Windsor arm-chair--very comfortable in
its way--was appropriated to the use of Mr. Saul himself; and two other
small wooden chairs flanked the other side of the fireplace. In one
distant corner st