“It seems you’re going to do the regular thing,” said his father, “like all the good apprentices.  Marry your master’s daughter, and then become Lord Mayor of London.”

This was not the view in which it had pleased Harry to regard his engagement.  All the other “young men” that had gone to Mr. Burton’s had married Mr. Burton’s daughters—­or, at least, enough had done so to justify the Stratton assertion that all had fallen into the same trap.  The Burtons, with their five girls, were supposed in Stratton to have managed their affairs very well, and something of these hints had reached Harry’s ears.  He would have preferred that the thing should not have been made so common, but he was not fool enough to make himself really unhappy on that head.

“I don’t know much about becoming Lord Mayor,” he replied.  “That promotion doesn’t lie exactly in our line.”

“But marrying your master’s daughter does, it seems,” said the Rector.  Harry thought that this, as coming from his father, was almost ill-natured, and therefore dropped the conversation.

“I’m sure we shall like her,” said Fanny.

“I think that I shall like Harry’s choice,” said Mrs. Clavering.

“I do hope Edward will like her,” said Mary.

“Mary,” said her sister, “I do wish you were once married.  When you are, you’ll begin to have a self of your own again.  Now you’re no better than an unconscious echo.”

“Wait for your own turn, my dear,” said the mother.

Harry had reached home on a Saturday, and the following Monday was Christmas-day.  Lady Clavering, he was told, was at home at the park, and Sir Hugh had been there lately.  No one from the house except the servants were seen at church, either on the Sunday or on Christmas-day.  “But that shows nothing,” said the Rector, speaking in anger.  “He very rarely does come, and when he does, it would be better that he should be away.  I think that he likes to insult me by misconducting himself.  They say that she is not well, and I can easily believe that all this about her sister makes her unhappy.  If I were you, I would go up and call.  Your mother was there the other day, but did not see them.  I think you’ll find that he’s away, hunting somewhere.  I saw the groom going off with three horses on Sunday afternoon.  He always sends them by the church gate just as we’re coming out.”

So Harry went up to the house, and found Lady Clavering at home.  She was looking old and careworn, but she was glad to see him.  Harry was the only one of the rectory family who had been liked at the great house since Sir Hugh’s marriage, and he, had he cared to do so, would have been made welcome there.  But, as he had once said to Sir Hugh’s sister-in-law, if he shot the Clavering game, he would be expected to do so in the guise of a head gamekeeper, and he did not choose to play that part.  It would not suit him to drink Sir Hugh’s claret, and be bidden