Harry of course began his letter by telling her of the catastrophe, with the usual amount of epithets.  It was very terrible, awful, shocking—­the saddest thing that had ever happened!  The poor widow was in a desperate state, and all the Claverings were nearly beside themselves.  But when this had been duly said, he allowed himself to go into their own home question.  “I can not fail,” he wrote, “to think of this chiefly as it concerns you—­or rather as it concerns myself in reference to you.  I suppose I shall leave the business now.  Indeed, my father seems to think that my remaining there would be absurd, and my mother agrees with him.  As I am the only son, the property will enable me to live easily without a profession.  When I say ‘me,’ of course you will understand what ‘me’ means.  The better part of ‘me’ is so prudent that I know she will not accept this view of things without ever so much consideration, and therefore she must come to Clavering to hear it discussed by the elders.  For myself; I can not bear to think that I should take delight in the results of this dreadful misfortune; but how am I to keep myself from being made happy by the feeling that we may now be married without further delay?  After all that has passed, nothing will make me happy or even permanently comfortable till I can call you fairly my own.  My mother has already said that she hopes you will come here in about a fortnight—­that is, as soon as we shall have fallen tolerably into our places again; but she will write herself before that time.  I have written a line to your brother, addressed to the office, which I suppose will find him.  I have written also to Cecilia.  Your brother, no doubt, will hear the news first through the French newspapers.”  Then he said a little, but a very little, as to their future modes of life, just intimating to her, and no more, that her destiny might probably call upon her to be the mother of a future baronet.

The news had reached Clavering on a Saturday.  On the following Sunday everyone in the parish had no doubt heard of it, but nothing on the subject was said in church on that day.  The rector remained at home during the morning, and the whole service was performed by Mr. Saul.  But on the second Sunday Mr. Fielding had come over from Humbleton, and he preached a sermon on the loss which the parish had sustained in the sudden death of the two brothers.  It is perhaps well that such sermons should be preached.  The inhabitants of Clavering would have felt that their late lords had been treated like dogs had no word been said of them in the house of God.  The nature of their fate had forbidden even the common ceremony of a burial service.  It is well that some respect should be maintained from the low in station toward those who are high, even where no respect has been deserved; and, for the widow’s sake, it was well that some notice should be taken in Clavering of this death of the head of the Claverings; but I