Florence Burton had taken upon herself to say that Mrs. Clavering would have no difficulty in making to Mr. Saul the communication which was now needed before he could be received at the rectory, as the rector’s successor and future son-in-law; but Mrs. Clavering was by no means so confident of her own powers.  To her it seemed as though the undertaking which she had in hand was one surrounded with difficulties.  Her husband, when the matter was being discussed, at once made her understand that he would not relieve her by an offer to perform the task.  He had been made to break the bad news to Lady Clavering, and, having been submissive in that matter, felt himself able to stand aloof altogether as to this more difficult embassy.  “I suppose it would hardly do to ask Harry to see him again,” Mrs. Clavering had said.  “You would do it much better, my dear.” the rector had replied.  Then Mrs. Clavering had submitted in her turn; and when the scheme was fully matured, and the time had come in which the making of the proposition could no longer be delayed with prudence, Mr. Saul was summoned by a short note.  “Dear Mr. Saul:—­If you are disengaged, would you come to me at the rectory at eleven to-morrow?  Yours ever, M. C.”  Mr. Saul of course said that he would come.  When the to-morrow had arrived and breakfast was over, the rector and Harry took themselves off somewhere about the grounds of the great house, counting up their treasures of proprietorship, as we can fancy that men so circumstanced would do, while Mary Fielding, with Fanny and Florence, retired up stairs, so that they might be well out of the way.  They knew, all of them, what was about to be done, and Fanny behaved herself like a white lamb, decked with bright ribbons for the sacrificial altar.  To her it was a sacrificial morning—­very sacred, very solemn, and very trying to the nerves.

“I don’t think that any girl was ever in such a position before,” she said to her sister.

“A great many girls would be glad to be in the same position,” Mrs. Fielding replied.

“Do you think so?  To me there is something almost humiliating in the idea that he should be asked to take me.”

“Fiddlestick, my dear,” replied Mrs. Fielding.

Mr. Saul came, punctual as the church clock, of which he had the regulating himself and was shown into the rectory dining-room, where Mrs. Clavering was sitting alone.  He looked, as he ever did, serious, composed, ill-dressed, and like a gentleman.  Of course he must have supposed that the present rector would make some change in his mode of living, and could not be surprised that he should have been summoned to the rectory; but he was surprised that the summons should have come from Mrs. Clavering, and not from the rector himself.  It appeared to him that the old enmity must be very enduring if, even now, Mr. Clavering could not bring himself to see his curate on a matter of business.

“It seems a long time since we have seen you here, Mr. Saul,” said Mrs. Clavering.