“Couldn’t you drive Mrs. Clavering over in the pony chair, and settle it between you,” said Mr. Clavering to his curate.  Mr. Saul looked disappointed.  In the first place, he hated driving the pony, which was a rapid-footed little beast, that had a will of his own; and in the next place, he thought the rector ought to visit the spot on such an occasion.  “Or Mrs. Clavering will drive you,” said the rector, remembering Mr. Saul’s objection to the pony.  Still Mr. Saul looked unhappy.  Mr. Saul was very tall and very thin, with a tall thin head, and weak eyes, and a sharp, well-cut nose, and, so to say, no lips, and very white teeth, with no beard, and a well-cut chin.  His face was so thin that his cheek bones obtruded themselves unpleasantly.  He wore a long rusty black coat, and a high rusty black waistcoat, and trousers that were brown with dirty roads and general ill-usage.  Nevertheless, it never occurred to any one that Mr. Saul did not look like a gentleman, not even to himself to whom no ideas whatever on that subject ever presented themselves.  But that he was a gentleman I think he knew well enough, and was able to carry himself before Sir Hugh and his wife with quite as much ease as he could do in the rectory.  Once or twice he had dined at the great house; but Lady Clavering had declared him to be a bore, and Sir Hugh had called him “that most offensive of all animals, a clerical prig.”  It had therefore been decided that he was not to be asked to the great house any more.  It may be as well to state here, as elsewhere, that Mr. Clavering very rarely went to his nephew’s table.  On certain occasions he did do so, so that there might be no recognized quarrel between him and Sir Hugh; but such visits were few and far between.

After a few more words from Mr. Saul, and a glance from his wife’s eye, Mr. Clavering consented to go to Cumberly Green, though there was nothing he liked so little as a morning spent with his curate.  When he had started, Harry told his mother also of his final decision.  “I shall go to Stratton to-morrow and settle it all.”

“And what does papa say?” asked the mother.

“Just what he has said before.  It is not so much that he wishes me to be a clergyman, as that he does not wish me to have lost all my time up to this.”

“It is more than that, I think, Harry,” said his elder sister, a tall girl, less pretty than her sister, apparently less careful of her prettiness, very quiet, or, as some said, demure, but known to be good as gold by all who knew her well.

“I doubt it,” said Harry, stoutly.  “But, however that may be, a man must choose for himself.”

“We all thought you had chosen,” said Mary.

“If it is settled,” said the mother, “I suppose we shall do no good by opposing it.”

“Would you wish to oppose it, mamma?” said Harry.

“No, my dear.  I think you should judge for yourself.”

“You see I could have no scope in the church for that sort of ambition which would satisfy me.  Look at such men as Locke, and Stephenson, and Brassey.  They are the men who seem to me to do most in the world.  They were all self-educated, but surely a man can’t have a worse chance because he has learned something.  Look at old Beilby with a seat in Parliament, and a property worth two or three hundred thousand pounds!  When he was my age he had nothing but his weekly wages.”