He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope [children's ebooks free online .TXT] 📗

it was the business

of the committee to master. But then two governors were to come,

and it might be as well to have one of the best sort, and one of

the second best. No one supposed that excellent old Sir Marmaduke

was a paragon of a governor, but then he had an infinity of experience!

For over twenty years he had been from island to island, and had

at least steered clear of great scrapes.

 

‘We’ll try it, at any rate,’ said the Colonel.

 

‘Do, Colonel Osborne. Mamma would come with him, of course?’

 

‘We should leave him to manage all that. It’s not very likely that

he would leave Lady Rowley behind.’

 

‘He never has. I know he thinks more of mamma than he ever does

of himself. Fancy having them here in the autumn! I suppose if he

came for the end of the session, they wouldn’t send him back quite

at once?’

 

‘I rather fancy that our foreign and colonial servants know how to

stretch a point when they find themselves in England.’

 

‘Of course they do, Colonel Osborne; and why shouldn’t they? Think

of all that they have to endure out in those horrible places. How

would you like to live in the Mandarins?’

 

‘I should prefer London, certainly.’

 

‘Of course you would; and you mustn’t begrudge papa a month or two

when he comes. I never cared about your being in parliament before,

but I shall think so much of you now if you can manage to get papa

home.’

 

There could be nothing more innocent than this—nothing more innocent

at any rate as regarded any offence against Mr Trevelyan. But just

then there came a word which a little startled Mrs Trevelyan, and

made her feel afraid that she was doing wrong.

 

‘I must make one stipulation with you, Emily,’ said the Colonel.

 

‘What is that?’

 

‘You must not tell your husband.’

 

‘Oh, dear! and why not?’

 

‘I am sure you are sharp enough to see why you should not. A word

of this repeated at any club would put an end at once to your

project, and would be very damaging to me. And, beyond that, I

wouldn’t wish him to know that I had meddled with it at all. I am

very chary of having my name connected with anything of the kind;

and, upon my word, I wouldn’t do it for any living human being but

yourself. You’ll promise me, Emily?’

 

She gave the promise, but there were two things in the matter, as

it stood at present, which she did not at all like. She was very

averse to having any secret from her husband with Colonel Osborne;

and she was not at all pleased at being told that he was doing

for her a favour that he would not have done for any other living

human being. Had he said so to her yesterday, before those offensive

words had been spoken by her husband, she would not have thought

much about it. She would have connected the man’s friendship for

herself with his very old friendship for her father, and she would

have regarded the assurance as made to the Rowleys in general, and

not to herself in particular. But now, after what had occurred,

it pained her to be told by Colonel Osborne that he would make,

specially on her behalf, a sacrifice of his political pride which he

would make for no other person living. And then, as he had called

her by her Christian name, as he had exacted the promise, there

had been a tone of affection in his voice that she had almost felt

to be too warm. But she gave the promise; and when he pressed her

hand at parting, she pressed his again, in token of gratitude for

the kindness to be done to her father and mother.

 

Immediately afterwards Colonel Osborne went away, and Mrs Trevelyan

was left alone in her drawing-room. She knew that her husband was

still downstairs, and listened for a moment to hear whether he would

now come up to her. And he, too, had heard the Colonel’s step as

he went, and for a few moments had doubted whether or no he would

at once go to his wife. Though he believed himself to be a man

very firm of purpose, his mind had oscillated backwards and forwards

within the last quarter of an hour between those two purposes of

being round with his wife, and of begging her pardon for the words

which he had already spoken. He believed that he would best do his

duty by that plan of being round with her; but then it would be

so much pleasanter at any rate, so much easier, to beg her pardon.

But of one thing he was quite certain, he must by some means exclude

Colonel Osborne from his house. He could not live and continue to

endure the feelings which he had suffered while sitting downstairs

at his desk, with the knowledge that Colonel Osborne was closeted

with his wife upstairs. It might be that there was nothing in it.

That his wife was innocent he was quite sure. But nevertheless, he

was himself so much affected by some feeling which pervaded him in

reference to this man, that all his energy was destroyed., and his

powers of mind and body were paralysed. He could not, and would not,

stand it. Rather than that, he would follow Mr Poole, and take his

wife to Naples. So resolving, he put his hat on his head and walked

out of the house. He would have the advantage of the afternoon’s

consideration before he took either the one step or the other.

 

As soon as he was gone Emily Trevelyan went upstairs to her baby.

She would not stir as long as there had been a chance of his coming

to her. She very much wished that he would come, and had made up her

mind, in spite of the fierceness of her assertion to her sister,

to accept any slightest hint at an apology which her husband

might offer to her. To this state of mind she was brought by the

consciousness of having a secret from him, and by a sense not of

impropriety on her own part, but of conduct which some people might

have called improper in her mode of parting from the man against

whom her husband had warned her. The warmth of that hand-pressing,

and the affectionate tone in which her name had been pronounced,

and the promise made to her, softened her heart towards her husband.

Had he gone to her now and said a word to her in gentleness all

might have been made right. But he did not go to her.

 

‘If he chooses to be cross and sulky, he may be cross and sulky,’

said Mrs Trevelyan to herself as she went up to her baby.

 

‘Has Louis been with you?’ Nora asked, as soon as Mrs Fairfax had

brought her home.

 

‘I have not seen him since you left me,’ said Mrs Trevelyan.

 

‘I suppose he went out before Colonel Osborne?’

 

‘No, indeed. He waited till Colonel Osborne had gone, and then he

went himself; but he did not come near me. It is for him to judge

of his own conduct, but I must say that I think he is very foolish.’

 

This the young wife said in a tone which clearly indicated that

she had judged her husband’s conduct, and had found it to be very

foolish indeed.

 

‘Do you think that papa and mamma will really come?’ said Nora,

changing the subject of conversation.

 

‘How can I tell? How am I to know? After all that has passed I am

afraid to say a word lest I should be accused of doing wrong. But

remember this, Nora, you are not to speak of it to any one.’

 

‘You will tell Louis?’

 

‘No; I will tell no one.’

 

‘Dear, dear Emily; pray do not keep anything secret from him.’

 

‘What do you mean by secret? There isn’t any secret. Only in such

matters as that about politics no gentleman likes to have his name

talked about!’

 

A look of great distress came upon Nora’s face as she heard this.

To her it seemed to be very bad that there should be a secret between

her sister and Colonel Osborne to be kept from her brother-in-law.

 

‘I suppose you will suspect me next?’ said Mrs Trevelyan, angrily.

 

‘Emily, how can you say anything so cruel?’

 

‘You look as if you did.’

 

‘I only mean that I think it would be wiser to tell all this to

Louis.’

 

‘How can I tell him Colonel Osborne’s private business, when Colonel

Osborne has desired me not to do so. For whose sake is Colonel

Osborne doing this? For papa’s and mamma’s! I suppose Louis won’t

be jealous, because I want to have papa and mamma home. It would

not be a bit less unreasonable than the other.’