"But you forget that not a syllable has been proved against her, or been
attempted to be proved. She has never left him, and now she has been
with him in his last moments. I don't think you ought to be the first to
turn against her."

"If she would remain abroad, I would do the best I could for her. She
chooses to return home; and as I think she's wrong, I won't have her
here--that's all. You don't suppose that I go about the world accusing
her?"

"I think you might do something to fight her battle for her."

"I will do nothing--unless she takes my advice and remains abroad. You
must write to her now, and you will tell her what I say. It's an
infernal bore, his dying at this moment; but I suppose people won't
expect that I'm to shut myself up."

For one day only did the baronet shut himself up, and on the following
he went whither he had before intended.

Lady Clavering thought it proper to write a line to the rectory,
informing the family there that Lord Ongar was no more. This she did in
a note to Mrs. Clavering; and when it was received, there came over the
faces of them all that lugubrious look, which is, as a matter of course,
assumed by decorous people when tidings come of the death of any one who
has been known to them, even in the most distant way. With the exception
of Harry, all the rectory Claverings had been introduced to Lord Ongar,
and were now bound to express something approaching to sorrow. Will any
one dare to call this hypocrisy? If it be so called, who in the world is
not a hypocrite? Where is the man or woman who has not a special face