COLONEL OSBORNE.
It has been already said that Colonel Osborne was a bachelor, a man
of fortune, a member of Parliament, and one who carried his half
century of years lightly on his shoulders. It will only be necessary
to say further of him that he was a man popular with those among
whom he lived, as a politician, as a sportsman, and as a member
of society. He could speak well in the House, though he spoke but
seldom, and it was generally thought of him that he might have been
something considerable, had it not suited him better to be nothing at
all. He was supposed to be a Conservative, and generally voted with
the Conservative party; but he could boast that he was altogether
independent, and on an occasion would take the trouble of proving
himself to be so. He was in possession of excellent health; had all
that the world could give; was fond of books, pictures, architecture,
and china; had various tastes, and the means of indulging them, and
was one of those few men on whom it seems that every pleasant thing
has been lavished. There was that little slur on his good name to
which allusion has been made; but those who knew Colonel Osborne best
were generally willing to declare that no harm was intended, and
that the evils which arose were always to be attributed to mistaken
jealousy. He had, his friends said, a free and pleasant way with
women which women like,--a pleasant way of free friendship; that
there was no more, and that the harm which had come had always
come from false suspicion. But there were certain ladies about the
town,--good, motherly, discreet women,--who hated the name of Colonel
Osborne, who would not admit him within their doors, who would not
bow to him in other people's houses, who would always speak of him as
a serpent, a hyena, a kite, or a shark. Old Lady Milborough was one
of these, a daughter of a friend of hers having once admitted the
serpent to her intimacy.
"Augustus Poole was wise enough to take his wife abroad," said old
Lady Milborough, discussing about this time with a gossip of hers
the danger of Mrs. Trevelyan's position, "or there would have been a
break-up there; and yet there never was a better girl in the world
than Jane Marriott."
The reader may be quite certain that Colonel Osborne had no
premeditated evil intention when he allowed himself to become the
intimate friend of his old friend's daughter. There was nothing
fiendish in his nature. He was not a man who boasted of his
conquests. He was not a ravening wolf going about seeking whom he
might devour, and determined to devour whatever might come in his
way; but he liked that which was pleasant; and of all pleasant things
the company of a pretty clever woman was to him the pleasantest. At
this exact period of his life no woman was so pleasantly pretty to
him, and so agreeably clever, as Mrs. Trevelyan.
When Louis Trevelyan heard on the stairs the step of the dangerous
man, he got up from his chair as though he too would have gone into
the drawing-room, and it would perhaps have been well had he done so.
Could he have done this, and kept his temper with the man, he would
have paved the way for an easy reconciliation with his wife. But when
he reached the door of his room, and had placed his hand upon the
lock, he withdrew again. He told himself he withdrew because he would
not allow himself to be jealous; but in truth he did so because he
knew he could not have brought himself to be civil to the man he
hated. So he sat down, and took up his pen, and began to cudgel
his brain about the scientific article. He was intent on raising a
dispute with some learned pundit about the waves of sound,--but he
could think of no other sound than that of the light steps of Colonel
Osborne as he had gone up-stairs. He put down his pen, and clenched
his fist, and allowed a black frown to settle upon his brow. What
right had the man to come there, unasked by him, and disturb his
happiness? And then this poor wife of his, who knew so little of
English life, who had lived in the Mandarin Islands almost since she
had been a child, who had lived in one colony or another almost since
she had been born, who had had so few of those advantages for which
he should have looked in marrying a wife, how was the poor girl to
conduct herself properly when subjected to the arts and practised
villanies of this viper? And yet the poor girl was so stiff in her
temper, had picked up such a trick of obstinacy in those tropical
regions, that Louis Trevelyan felt that he did not know how to manage
her. He too had heard how Jane Marriott had been carried off to
Naples after she had become Mrs. Poole. Must he too carry off his
wife to Naples in order to place her out of the reach of this hyena?
It was terrible to him to think that he must pack up everything and
run away from such a one as Colonel Osborne. And even were he to
consent to do this, how could he explain it all to that very wife for
whose sake he would do it? If she got a hint of the reason she would,
he did not doubt, refuse to go. As he thought of it, and as that
visit up-stairs prolonged itself, he almost thought it would be best
for him to be round with her! We all know what a husband means when
he resolves to be round with his wife. He began to think that he
would not apologise at all for the words he had spoken,--but would
speak them again somewhat more sharply than before. She would be
very wrathful with him; there would be a silent enduring indignation,
which, as he understood well, would be infinitely worse than any
torrent of words. But was he, a man, to abstain from doing that which
he believed to be his duty because he was afraid of his wife's anger?
Should he be deterred from saying that which he conceived it would
be right that he should say, because she was stiff-necked? No. He
would not apologise, but would tell her again that it was necessary,
both for his happiness and for hers, that all intimacy with Colonel
Osborne should be discontinued.
He was brought to this strongly marital resolution by the length of
the man's present visit; by that and by the fact that, during the
latter portion of it, his wife was alone with Colonel Osborne. Nora
had been there when the man came, but Mrs. Fairfax had called, not
getting out of her carriage, and Nora had been constrained to go down
to her. She had hesitated a moment, and Colonel Osborne had observed
and partly understood the hesitation. When he saw it, had he been
perfectly well-minded in the matter, he would have gone too. But he
probably told himself that Nora Rowley was a fool, and that in such
matters it was quite enough for a man to know that he did not intend
any harm.
"You had better go down, Nora," said Mrs. Trevelyan; "Mrs. Fairfax
will be ever so angry if you keep her waiting."
Then Nora had gone and the two were alone together. Nora had gone,
and Trevelyan had heard her as she was going and knew that Colonel
Osborne was alone with his wife.
"If you can manage that it will be so nice," said Mrs. Trevelyan,
continuing the conversation.
"My dear Emily," he said, "you must not talk of my managing it, or
you will spoil it all."
He had called them both Emily and Nora when Sir Marmaduke and Lady
Rowley were with them before the marriage, and, taking the liberty of
a very old family friend, had continued the practice. Mrs. Trevelyan
was quite aware that she had been so called by him in the presence of
her husband,--and that her husband had not objected. But that was now
some months ago, before baby was born; and she was aware also that
he had not called her so latterly in presence of her husband. She
thoroughly wished that she knew how to ask him not to do so again;
but the matter was very difficult, as she could not make such a
request without betraying some fear on her husband's part. The
subject which they were now discussing was too important to her
to allow her to dwell upon this trouble at the moment, and so she
permitted him to go on with his speech.
"If I were to manage it, as you call it,--which I can't do at
all,--it would be a gross job."
"That's all nonsense to us, Colonel Osborne. Ladies always like
political jobs, and think that they,--and they only,--make politics
bearable. But this would not be a job at all. Papa could do it better
than anybody else. Think how long he has been at it!"
The matter in discussion was the chance of an order being sent out to
Sir Marmaduke to come home from his islands at the public expense,
to give evidence, respecting colonial government in general, to a
committee of the House of Commons which was about to sit on the
subject. The committee had been voted, and two governors were to be
brought home for the purpose of giving evidence. What arrangement
could be so pleasant to a governor living in the Mandarin Islands,
who had had a holiday lately, and who could but ill afford to
take any holidays at his own expense? Colonel Osborne was on this
committee, and, moreover, was on good terms at the Colonial Office.
There were men in office who would be glad to do Colonel Osborne a
service, and then if this were a job, it would be so very little of
a job! Perhaps Sir Marmaduke might not be the very best man for the
purpose. Perhaps the government of the Mandarins did not afford the
best specimen of that colonial lore which 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 down-stairs, 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 down-stairs at his desk,
with the knowledge that Colonel Osborne was closeted with his wife
up-stairs. 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 up-stairs 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."