But though Sir Hugh was thus uncourteous to the rector and to the rector’s daughter, he was so far prepared to be civil to his cousin Harry, that he allowed his wife to ask all the rectory family to dine up at the house, in honor of Harry’s sweetheart.  Florence Burton was specially invited, with Lady Clavering’s sweetest smile.  Florence, of course, referred the matter to her hostess, but it was decided that they should all accept the invitation.  It was given, personally, after the breakfast, and it is not always easy to decline invitations so given.  It may, I think, be doubted whether any man or woman has a right to give an invitation in this way, and whether all invitations so given should not be null and void, from the fact of the unfair advantage that has been taken.  The man who fires at a sitting bird is known to be no sportsman.  Now, the dinner-giver who catches his guest in an unguarded moment, and bags him when he has had no chance to rise upon his wing, does fire at a sitting bird.  In this instance, however, Lady Clavering’s little speeches were made only to Mrs. Clavering and to Florence.  She said nothing personally to the rector, and he therefore might have escaped.  But his wife talked him over.

“I think you should go for Harry’s sake,” said Mrs. Clavering.

“I don’t see what good it will do Harry.”

“It will show that you approve of the match.”

“I don’t approve or disapprove of it.  He’s his own master.”

“But you approve, you know, as you countenance it; and there cannot possibly be a sweeter girl than Florence Burton.  We all like her, and I’m sure you seem to take to her thoroughly.”

“Take to her; yes, I take to her very well.  She’s ladylike, and though she’s no beauty, she looks pretty, and is spirited.  And I daresay she’s clever.”

“And so good.”

“If she’s good, that’s better than all.  Only I don’t see what they’re to live.”

“But as she is here, you will go with us to the great house?”

Mrs. Clavering never asked her husband anything in vain, and the rector agreed to go.  He apologized for this afterward to his son, by explaining that he did it as a duty.  “It will serve for six months,” he said.  “If I did not go there about once in six months, there would be supposed to be a family quarrel, and that would be bad for the parish.”

Harry was to remain only a week at Clavering, and the dinner was to take place the evening before he went away.  On that morning he walked all round the park with Florence—­as he had before often walked with Julia—­and took that occasion of giving her a full history of the Clavering family.  “We none of us like my cousin Hugh,” he said.  “But she is at least harmless, and she means to be good-natured.  She is very unlike her sister, Lady Ongar.”

“So I should suppose, from what you have told me.”

“Altogether an inferior being.”

“And she has only one child.”