“From Mrs. Trevelyan?”
“Yes, from Mrs. Trevelyan; and as well as I can understand, it must have been sent to me by Trevelyan himself. Did you ever hear of such a thing? And now I’m told he has gone away, nobody knows where, and has left her here.”
“He has gone away—nobody knows where.”
“Of course, I don’t ask to see her.”
“It would be imprudent, Colonel Osborne; and could not be permitted in this house.”
“I don’t ask it. I have known Emily Trevelyan since she was an infant, and have always loved her. I’m her godfather, for aught I know—though one forgets things of that sort.” Mr. Outhouse again knit his eyebrows and shuddered visibly. “She and I have been fast friends—and why not? But, of course, I can’t interfere.”
“If you ask me, Colonel Osborne, I should say that you can do nothing in the matter;—except to remain away from her. When Sir Marmaduke is in England, you can see him, if you please.”
“See him;—of course, I shall see him. And, by George, Louis Trevelyan will have to see him, too! I shouldn’t like to have to stand up before Rowley if I had treated a daughter of his in such a fashion. You know Rowley, of course?”
“Oh, yes; I know him.”
“He’s not the sort of man to bear this sort of thing. He’ll about tear Trevelyan in pieces if he gets hold of him. God bless my soul—” the eyebrows went to work again—“I never heard of such a thing in all my life! Does he pay anything for them, Mr. Outhouse?”
This was dreadful to the poor clergyman. “That is a subject which we surely need not discuss,” said he. Then he remembered that such speech on his part was like to a subterfuge, and he found it necessary to put himself right. “I am repaid for the maintenance here of my nieces, and the little boy, and their attendants. I do not know why the question should be asked, but such is the fact.”
“Then they are here by agreement between you and him?”
“No, sir; they are not. There is no such agreement. But I do not like these interrogatives from a stranger as to matters which should be private.”
“You cannot wonder at my interest, Mr. Outhouse.”
“You had better restrain it, sir, till Sir Marmaduke arrives. I shall then wash my hands of the affair.”
“And she is pretty well;—Emily, I mean?”
“Mrs. Trevelyan’s health is good.”
“Pray tell her though I could not—might not ask to see her, I came to inquire after her the first moment that I was in London. Pray tell her how much I feel for her;—but she will know that. When Sir Marmaduke is here, of course, we shall meet. When she is once more under her father’s wing, she need not be restrained by any absurd commands from a husband who has deserted her. At present, of course, I do not ask to see her.”
“Of course, you do not, Colonel Osborne.”
“And give my love to Nora;—dear little Nora! There can be no reason why she and I should not shake hands.”
“I should prefer that it should not be so in this house,” said the clergyman, who was now standing—in expectation that his unwelcome guest would go.
“Very well;—so be it. But you will understand I could not be in London without coming and asking after them.” Then the Colonel at last took his leave, and Mr. Outhouse was left to his solitude and his sermons.
Mrs. Outhouse was very angry when she heard of the visit. “Men of that sort,” she said, “think it a fine thing, and talk about it. I believe the poor girl is as innocent as I am, but he isn’t innocent. He likes it.”
“ ‘It is easier,’ ” said Mr. Outhouse solemnly, “ ‘for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.’ ”
“I don’t know that he is a rich man,” said Mrs. Outhouse; “but he wouldn’t have come here if he had been honest.”
Mrs. Trevelyan was told of the visit, and simply said that of course it was out of the question that she should have seen Colonel Osborne. Nevertheless she seemed to think it quite natural that he should have called, and defended him with some energy when her aunt declared that he had been much to blame. “He is not bound to obey Mr. Trevelyan because I am,” said Emily.
“He is bound to abstain from evil doing,” said Mrs. Outhouse; “and he oughtn’t to have come. There; let that be enough, my dear. Your uncle doesn’t wish to have it talked about.” Nevertheless it was talked about between the two sisters. Nora was of opinion that Colonel Osborne had been wrong, whereas Emily defended him. “It seems to me to have been the most natural thing in life,” said she.
Had Colonel Osborne made the visit as Sir Marmaduke’s friend, feeling himself to be an old man, it might have been natural. When a man has come to regard himself as being, on the score of age, about as fit to be a young lady’s lover as though he were an old woman instead of an old man—which some men will do when they are younger even than was Colonel Osborne—he is justified in throwing behind him as utterly absurd the suspicions of other people. But Colonel Osborne cannot be defended altogether on that plea.
XLII
Miss Stanbury and Mr. Gibson Become Two
There came to be a very gloomy fortnight at Miss Stanbury’s house in the Close. For two or three days after Mr. Gibson’s dismissal at the hands of Miss Stanbury herself, Brooke
