For the next half hour Lady Clavering sat alone listening with eager ear for the sound of her husband’s wheels, and at last she had almost told herself that the hour for his coming had gone by, when she heard the rapid grating on the gravel as the dog-cart was driven up to the door.  She ran out on to the corridor, but her heart sank within her as she did so, and she took tightly hold of the balustrade to support herself.  For a moment she had thought of running down to meet him; of trusting to the sadness of the moment to produce in him, if it were but for a minute, something of tender solicitude; but she remembered that the servants would be there, and knew that he would not be soft before them.  She remembered also that the housekeeper had received her instructions, and she feared to disarrange the settled programme.  So she went back to the open door of the room, that her retreating step might not be heard by him as he should come up to her, and standing there she still listened.  The house was silent and her ears were acute with sorrow.  She could hear the movement of the old woman as she gently, tremblingly, as Lady Clavering knew, made her way down the hall to meet her master.  Sir Hugh of course had learned his child’s fate already from the servant who had met him; but it was well that the ceremony of such telling should be performed.  She felt the cold air come in from the opened front door, and she heard her husband’s heavy, quick step as he entered.  Then she heard the murmur of Hannah’s voice; but the first word she heard was in her husband’s tones, “Where is Lady Clavering?” Then the answer was given, and the wife, knowing that he was coming, retreated to her chair.

But still he did not come quite at once.  He was pulling off his coat and laying aside his hat and gloves.  Then came upon her a feeling that at such a time any other husband and wife would have been at once in each other’s arms.  And at the moment she thought of all that they had lost.  To her her child had been all and everything.  To him he had been his heir and the prop of his house.  The boy had been the only link that had still bound them together.  Now he was gone, and there was no longer any link between them.  He was gone, and she had nothing left to her.  He was gone, and the father was so alone in the world, without any heir and with no prop to his house.  She thought of all this as she heard his step coming slowly up the stairs.  Slowly he came along the passage, and though she dreaded his coming, it almost seemed as though he would never be there.

When he had entered the room she was the first to speak.  “Oh, Hugh!” she exclaimed, “oh, Hugh!” He had closed the door before he uttered a word, and then he threw himself into a chair.  There were candles near to him, and she could see that his countenance also was altered.  He had indeed been stricken hard, and his half-stunned face showed the violence of the blow.  The harsh, cruel, selfish man had at last been made to suffer.  Although he had spoken of it and had expected it, the death of his heir hit him hard, as the rector had said.