“I shall not forget it even in the way that you mean.  But still I think you need not fear me, because you know that I love you.  I think I can promise that you need not withdraw yourself from me, because of what has passed.  But you will tell your father and your mother, and of course will be guided by them.  And now, good-night.”  Then he went, and she was astonished at finding that he had had much the best of it in his manner of speaking and conducting himself.  She had refused him very curtly, and he had borne it well.  He had not been abashed, nor had he become sulky, nor had he tried to melt her by mention of his own misery.  In truth, he had done it very well—­only that he should have known better than to make any such attempt at all.

Mr. Saul had been right in one thing.  Of course she told her mother, and of course her mother told her father.  Before dinner that evening the whole affair was being debated in the family conclave.  They all agreed that Fanny had had no alternative but to reject the proposition at once.  That, indeed was so thoroughly taken for granted, that the point was not discussed.  But there came to be a difference between the Rector and Fanny on one side, and Mrs. Clavering and Mary on the other.  “Upon my word,” said the Rector, “I think it was very impertinent.”  Fanny would not have liked to use that word herself but she loved her father for using it.

“I do not see that,” said Mrs. Clavering.  “He could not know what Fanny’s views in life might be.  Curates very often marry out of the houses of the clergymen with whom they are placed, and I do not see why Mr. Saul should be debarred from the privilege of trying.”

“If he had got to like Fanny what else was he to do?” said Mary.

“Oh, Mary, don’t talk such nonsense,” said Fanny.  “Got to like!  People shouldn’t get to like people unless there’s some reason for it.”

“What on earth did he intend to live on?” demanded the Rector.

“Edward had nothing to live on, when you first allowed him to come here,” said Mary.

“But Edward had prospects, and Saul, as far as I know, has none.  He had given no one the slightest notice.  If the man in the moon had come to Fanny I don’t suppose she would have been more surprised.”

“Not half so much, papa.”

Then it was that Mrs. Clavering had declared that she was not surprised—­that she had suspected it, and had almost made Fanny angry by saying so.  When Harry came hack two days afterward, the family news was imparted to him, and he immediately ranged himself on his father’s side.  “Upon my word I think that he ought to be forbidden the house,” said Harry.  “He has forgotten himself in making such a proposition.”