“I wonder what his idea is of the Church of England?” said Mr. Annesley.  “Does he think that the Archbishop of Canterbury is supreme in all religious matters in America?”

“How on earth he knows that the women are all vulgar, when he has never seen one of them, is a mystery,” said Harry.

“And that they are dishonest in all their dealings,” said Joe.  “I suppose he got that out of some of the radical news papers.”  For Joe, after the manner of brewers, was a staunch Tory.

“And their President, too, is vulgar as well as the ladies,” said Mr. Annesley.  “And this is the opinion of an educated Englishman, who is not ashamed to own that he entertains serious antipathies against a whole nation!”

But at the parsonage they soon returned to a more serious consideration of the matter.  Did Uncle Prosper intend to forgive the sinner altogether?  And was he coerced into doing so by a conviction that he had been told lies, or by the uncommon difficulties which presented themselves to him in reference to another heir?  At any rate, it was agreed by them all that Harry must meet his uncle half-way, and write the “full and complete explanation,” as desired. “’Bleeding, speechless, and motionless!’” said Harry.  “I can’t deny that he was bleeding; he certainly was speechless, and for a few moments may have been motionless.  What am I to say?” But the letter was not a difficult one to write, and was sent across on the same day to the Hall.  There Mr. Prosper gave up a day to its consideration,—­a day which would have been much better devoted to applying the final touch to his own letter to Miss Thoroughbung.  And he found at last that his nephew’s letter required no rejoinder.

But Harry had much to do.  It was first necessary that he should see his friend, and explain to him that causes over which he had no control forbade him to go to America.  “Of course, you know, I can’t fly in my uncle’s face.  I was going because he intended to disinherit me; but he finds that more troublesome than letting me alone, and therefore I must remain.  You see what he says about the Americans.”  The gentleman, whose opinion about our friends on the other side of the Atlantic was very different from Mr. Prosper’s, fell into a long argument on the subject.  But he was obliged at last to give up his companion.

Then came the necessity of explaining the change in all his plans to Florence Mountjoy, and with this view he wrote the short letter given at the beginning of the chapter, following it down in person to Cheltenham.  “Mamma, Harry is here,” said Florence to her mother.

“Well, my dear?  I did not bring him.”

“But what am I to say to him?”

“How can I tell?  Why do you ask me?”

“Of course he must come and see me,” said Florence.  “He has sent a note to say that he will be here in ten minutes.”

“Oh dear! oh dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Mountjoy.