Sir Hugh was not a gambler like his brother, but I do not know that he was therefore a more estimable man.  He was greedy and anxious to increase his store, never willing to lose that which he possessed, fond of pleasure, but very careful of himself in the enjoyment of it, handsome, every inch an English gentleman in appearance, and therefore popular with men and women of his own class who were not near enough to him to know him well, given to but few words, proud of his name, and rank, and place, well versed in the business of the world, a match for most men in money matters, not ignorant, though he rarely opened a book, selfish, and utterly regardless of the feelings of all those with whom he came in contact.  Such were Sir Hugh Clavering and his brother the captain.

Sir Hugh took Florence in to dinner, and when the soup had been eaten made an attempt to talk to her.  “How long have you been here, Miss Burton?”

“Nearly a week,” said Florence.

“Ah; you came to the wedding; I was sorry I couldn’t be here.  It went off very well, I suppose?”

“Very well indeed, I think.”

“They’re tiresome things in general—­weddings.  Don’t you think so?”

“Oh, dear, no—­except that some person one loves is always being taken away.”

“You’ll be the next person to be taken away yourself; I suppose?”

“I must be the next person at home, because I am the last that is left.  All my sisters are married.”

“And how many are there?”

“There are five married.”

“Good heavens—­five!”

“And they are all married to men in the same profession as Harry.”

“Quite a family affair,” said Sir Hugh.  Harry, who was sitting on the other side of Florence, heard this, and would have preferred that Florence should have said nothing about her sisters.  “Why, Harry,” said the baronet, “if you will go into partnership with your father-in-law and all your brothers-in-law you could stand against the world.”

“You might add my four brothers,” said Florence, who saw no shame in the fact that they were all engaged in the same business.

“Good heaven!” exclaimed Sir Hugh, and after that he did not say much more to Florence.

The rector had taken Lady Clavering in to dinner, and they two did manage to carry on between them some conversation respecting the parish affairs.  Lady Clavering was not active among the poor—­nor was the rector himself, and perhaps neither of them knew how little the other did; but they could talk Clavering talk, and the parson was willing to take for granted his neighbor’s good will to make herself agreeable.  But Mrs. Clavering, who sat between Sir Hugh and Archie, had a very bad time of it.  Sir Hugh spoke to her once during the dinner, saying that he hoped she was satisfied with her daughter’s marriage; but even this he said in a tone that seemed to imply that any such satisfaction must rest on very