good had he done; or, rather, what evil had he not done?  In his attempt on behalf of Lady Clavering, had he not, in truth, interfered without proper excuse, and fairly laid himself open to anger from his cousin?  And he felt that he had been an ass, a fool, a conceited ass, thinking that he could produce good, when his interference could be efficacious only for evil.  Why could he not have held his tongue when Sir Hugh came in, instead of making that vain suggestion as to Lady Clavering?  But even this trouble was but an addition to the great trouble that overwhelmed him.  How was he to escape the position which he had made for himself in reference to Lady Ongar?  As he had left London he had promised to himself that he would write to her that same night and tell her everything as to Florence; but the night had passed, and the next day was nearly gone, and no such letter had been written.

Chapter XXVI

Too Many, And Too Few

As he sat with his father that evening, he told the story of his quarrel with his cousin.  His father shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows.  “You are a bolder man than I am,” he said.  “I certainly should not have dared to advise Hugh as to what he should do with his wife.”

“But I did not advise him.  I only said that I had been talking to her about it.  If he were to say to you that he had been recommending my mother to do this or that, you would not take it amiss?”

“But Hugh is a peculiar man.”

“No man has a right to be peculiar.  Every man is bound to accept such usage as is customary in the world.”

“I don’t suppose that it will signify much,” said the rector.  “To have your cousin’s doors barred against you, either here or in London, will not injure you.”

“Oh, no; it will not injure me; but I do not wish you to think that I have been unreasonable.”

The night went by and so did the next day, and still the letter did not get itself written.  On the third morning after the funeral he heard that Sir Hugh had gone away; but he, of course, did not go up to the house, remembering well that he had been warned by the master not to do so in the master’s absence.  His mother, however, went to Lady Clavering, and some intercourse between the families was renewed.  He had intended to stay but one day after the funeral, but at the end of a week he was still at the rectory.  It was Whitsuntide he said, and he might as well take his holiday as he was down there.  Of course they were glad that he should remain with them, but they did not fail to perceive that things with him were not altogether right; nor had Fanny failed to perceive that he had not once mentioned Florence’s name since he had been at the rectory.

“Harry,” she said, “there is nothing wrong between you and Florence?”

“Wrong! what should there be wrong?  What do you mean by wrong?”

“I had a letter from her to-day, and she asks where you are.”