nine. The letter, as we know, was addressed
to Mrs. Clavering herself, as was also the outer envelope which
contained the packet; but the packet itself was addressed in Florence's
clear handwriting to Harry Clavering, Esq.

"That is a large parcel to come by post, mamma," said Fanny.

"Yes, my dear; but it is something particular."

"It's from some tradesman, I suppose," said the rector.

"No, it's not from a tradesman," said Mrs. Clavering. But she said
nothing further, and both husband and daughter perceived that it was not
intended that they should ask further questions.

Fanny, as usual, had taken her brother his breakfast, and Mrs. Clavering
did not go up to him till that ceremony had been completed and removed.
Indeed it was necessary that she should study Florence's letter in her
own room before she could speak to him about it. What the parcel
contained she well knew, even before the letter had been thoroughly
read; and I need hardly say that the treasure was sacred in her hands.
When she had finished the perusal of the letter there was a tear--a
gentle tear--in each eye. She understood it all, and could fathom the
strength and weakness of every word which Florence had written. But she
was such a woman--exactly such a woman--as Cecilia Burton had pictured
to herself. Mrs. Clavering was good enough, great enough, true enough,
clever enough to know that Harry's love for Florence should be
sustained, and his fancy for Lady Ongar overcome. At no time would she
have been proud to see her son prosperous only in the prosperity of a
wife's fortune; but she would have been thoroughly ashamed of him had he
resolved to pursue such prosperity under his present circumstances.

But her tears--though they were there in the corners of her eyes--were
not painful tears. Dear Florence! She is suffering bitterly now. This
very day would be a day of agony to her. There had been for her,
doubtless, many days of agony during the past month. That the letter was
true in all its words Mrs. Clavering did not doubt. That Florence
believed that all was over between her and Harry, Mrs. Clavering was as
sure as Florence had intended that she should be. But all should not be
over, and the days of agony should soon be at an end. Her boy had
promised her, and to her he had always been true. And she understood,
too, the way in which these dangers had come upon him, and her judgment
was not heavy upon her son--her gracious boy, who had ever b