“Then they say lies.  Who is it says so?  A parcel of old women who delight in having some one to run down and backbite.  It is all false, Lady Clavering.”

“But what does it signify, Harry?  There she is, and you know how people are talking.  Of course it would be best for her to marry again; and if she would take Archie—­Sir Hugh’s brother, my brother-in-law, nothing further would be said.  She might go anywhere then.  As her sister, I feel sure that it is the best thing she could do.”

Harry’s brow became clouded, and there was a look of anger on his face as he answered her.

“Lady Clavering,” he said, “your sister will never marry my cousin Archie.  I look upon the thing as impossible.”

“Perhaps it is, Harry, that you—­you yourself would not wish it.”

“Why should I wish it?”

“He is your own cousin.”

“Cousin indeed!  Why should I wish it, or why should I not wish it?  They are neither of them anything to me.”

“She ought not to be anything to you.”

“And she is nothing.  She may marry Archie if she pleases, for me.  I shall not set her against him.  But, Lady Clavering, you might as well tell him to get one of the stars.  I don’t think you can know your sister when you suppose such a match to be possible.”

“Hermione!” shouted Sir Hugh—­and the shout was uttered in a voice that always caused Lady Clavering to tremble.

“I am coming,” she said, rising from her chair.  “Don’t set yourself against it, Harry,” and then, without waiting to hear him further, she obeyed her husband’s summons.  “What the mischief keeps you in there?” he said.  It seemed that things had not been going on well in the larger room.  The rector had stuck to his review, taking no notice of Sir Hugh when he entered.  “You seem to be very fond of your book, all of a sudden,” Sir Hugh had said, after standing silent on the rug for a few minutes.

“Yes, I am,” said the rector—­“just at present.”

“It’s quite new with you, then,” said Sir Hugh, “or else you’re very much belied.”

“Hugh,” said Mr. Clavering, rising slowly from his chair, “I don’t often come into my father’s house, but when I do, I wish to be treated with respect.  You are the only person in this parish that ever omits to do so.”

“Bosh!” said Sir Hugh.

The two girls sat cowering in their seats, and poor Florence must have begun to entertain an uncomfortable idea of her future connections.  Archie made a frantic attempt to raise some conversation with Mrs. Clavering about the weather.  Mrs. Clavering, paying no attention to Archie whatever, looked at her husband with beseeching eyes.  “Henry,” she said, “do not allow yourself to be angry; pray do not.  What is the use?”

“None on earth,” he said, returning to his book.  “No use on earth; and worse than none in showing it.”

Then it was that Sir Hugh had made a diversion by calling to his wife.  “I wish you’d stay with us, and not go off alone with one person in particular, in that way.”  Lady Clavering looked round and immediately saw that things were unpleasant.  “Archie,” she said, “will you ring for tea?” And Archie did ring.  The tea was brought, and a cup was taken all round, almost in silence.