It was a tedious, sad journey to him, and he was silent and out of spirits when he reached his home; but he had gone there for the purpose of his cousin's funeral, and his mood was not at first noticed, as it might have been had the occasion been different. His father's countenance wore that well-known look of customary solemnity which is found to be necessary on such occasions, and his mother was still thinking of the sorrows of Lady Clavering, who had been at the rectory for the last day or two.
"Have you seen Lady Ongar since she heard of the poor child's death?" his mother asked.
"Yes, I was with her yesterday evening."
"Do you see her often?" Fanny inquired.
"What do you call often? No; not often. I went to her last night because she had given me a commission. I have seen her three or four times altogether."
"Is she as handsome as she used to be?" said Fanny.
"I cannot tell; I do not know."
"You used to think her very handsome, Harry."
"Of course she is handsome. There has never been a doubt about that; but when a woman is in deep mourning one hardly thinks about her beauty." Oh, Harry, Harry, how could you be so false?
"I thought young widows were always particularly charming," said Fanny; "and when one remembers about Lord Ongar one does not think of her being a widow so much as one would do if he had been different."