“I must at any rate go after him now,” said Theodore.  “I don’t believe this—­I won’t believe it.  I do not believe it.  But if it should be true—!”

“Oh, Theodore.”

“I do not think it is true.  It is not the kind of weakness I have seen in him.  He is weak and vain, but I should have said that he was true.”

“I am sure he is true.”

“I think so.  I cannot say more than that I think so.”

“You will write to your mother?”

“Yes.”

“And may I ask Florence to come up?  Is it not always better that people should be near to each other when they are engaged?”

“You can ask her, if you like.  I doubt whether she will come.”

“She will come if she thinks that anything is amiss with him.”

Cecilia wrote immediately to Florence, pressing her invitation in the strongest terms that she could use.  “I tell you the whole truth,” she said.  “We have not seen him, and this of course, has troubled us very greatly.  I feel quite sure he would come to us if you were here; and this, I think, should bring you, if no other consideration does so.  Theodore imagines that he has become simply idle, and that he is ashamed to show himself here because of that.  It may be that he has some trouble with reference to his own home, of which we know nothing.  But if he has any such trouble you ought to be made aware of it, and I feel sure that he would tell you if you were here.”  Much more she said, arguing in the same way, and pressing Florence to come to London.

Mr. Burton did not at once send a reply to his mother, but he wrote the following note to Harry: 

    Adelphi—­May, 186—­

My Dear Clavering:—­I have been sorry to notice your continued absence from the office, and both Cecilia and I have been very sorry that you have discontinued coming to us.  But I should not have written to you on this matter, not wishing to interfere in your own concerns, had I not desired to see you specially with reference to my sister.  As I have that to say to you concerning her which I can hardly write, will you make an appointment with me here; or at my house?  Or, if you cannot do that, will you say when I shall find you at home?  If you will come and dine with us we shall like that best, and leave you to name an early day; to-morrow, or the next day, or the day after.  “Very truly yours,

    “Theodore Burton.”

When Cecilia’s letter reached Stratton, and another post came without any letter from Harry, poor Florence’s heart sank low in her bosom.  “Well, my dear,” said Mrs. Burton, who watched her daughter anxiously while she was reading the letter.  Mrs. Burton had not told Florence of her own letter to her son; and now, having herself received no answer, looked to obtain some reply from that which her daughter-in-law had sent.

“Cecilia wants me to go to London,” said Florence.