SHEWING HOW COLONEL OSBORNE WENT TO NUNCOMBE PUTNEY.
Colonel Osborne was expected at Nuncombe Putney on the Friday, and
it was Thursday evening before either Mrs. Stanbury or Priscilla was
told of his coming. Emily had argued the matter with Nora, declaring
that she would make the communication herself, and that she would
make it when she pleased and how she pleased. "If Mrs. Stanbury
thinks," said she, "that I am going to be treated as a prisoner, or
that I will not judge myself as to whom I may see, or whom I may not
see, she is very much mistaken." Nora felt that were she to give
information to those ladies in opposition to her sister's wishes,
she would express suspicion on her own part by doing so; and she was
silent. On that same Thursday Priscilla had written her last defiant
letter to her aunt,--that letter in which she had cautioned her aunt
to make no further accusations without being sure of her facts. To
Priscilla's imagination that coming of Lucifer in person, of which
Mrs. Trevelyan had spoken, would hardly have been worse than the
coming of Colonel Osborne. When, therefore, Mrs. Trevelyan declared
the fact on the Thursday evening, vainly endeavouring to speak of
the threatened visit in an ordinary voice, and as of an ordinary
circumstance, it was as though a thunderbolt had fallen upon them.
"Colonel Osborne coming here!" said Priscilla, mindful of the
Stanbury correspondence,--mindful of the evil tongues of the world.
"And why not?" demanded Mrs. Trevelyan, who had heard nothing of the
Stanbury correspondence.
"Oh dear, oh dear!" ejaculated Mrs. Stanbury, who, of course, was
aware of all that had passed between the Clock House and the house in
the Close, though the letters had been written by her daughter.
Nora was determined to stand up for her sister, whatever might be the
circumstances of the case. "I wish Colonel Osborne were not coming,"
said she, "because it makes a foolish fuss; but I cannot understand
how anybody can suppose it to be wrong that Emily should see papa's
very oldest friend in the world."
"But why is he coming?" demanded Priscilla.
"Because he wants to see an acquaintance at Cockchaffington," said
Mrs. Trevelyan; "and there is a wonderful church-door there."
"A church-fiddlestick!" said Priscilla.
The matter was debated throughout all the evening. At one time
there was a great quarrel between the ladies, and then there was a
reconciliation. The point on which Mrs. Trevelyan stood with the
greatest firmness was this,--that it did not become her, as a married
woman whose conduct had always been good and who was more careful as
to that than she was even of her name, to be ashamed to meet any man.
"Why should I not see Colonel Osborne, or Colonel anybody else who
might call here with the same justification for calling which his old
friendship gives him?" Priscilla endeavoured to explain to her that
her husband's known wishes ought to hinder her from doing so. "My
husband should have remained with me to express his wishes," Mrs.
Trevelyan replied.
Neither could Mrs. Stanbury nor could Priscilla bring herself to say
that the man should not be admitted into the house. In the course of
the debate, in the heat of her anger, Mrs. Trevelyan declared that
were any such threat held out to her, she would leave the house and
see Colonel Osborne in the street, or at the inn.
"No, Emily; no," said Nora.
"But I will. I will not submit to be treated as a guilty woman, or as
a prisoner. They may say what they like; but I won't be shut up."
"No one has tried to shut you up," said Priscilla.
"You are afraid of that old woman at Exeter," said Mrs. Trevelyan;
for by this time the facts of the Stanbury correspondence had
all been elicited in general conversation; "and yet you know how
uncharitable and malicious she is."
"We are not afraid of her," said Priscilla. "We are afraid of nothing
but of doing wrong."
"And will it be wrong to let an old gentleman come into the house,"
said Nora, "who is nearly sixty, and who has known us ever since we
were born?"
"If he is nearly sixty, Priscilla," said Mrs. Stanbury, "that does
seem to make a difference." Mrs. Stanbury herself was only just
sixty, and she felt herself to be quite an old woman.
"They may be devils at eighty," said Priscilla.
"Colonel Osborne is not a devil at all," said Nora.
"But mamma is so foolish," said Priscilla. "The man's age does not
matter in the least."
"I beg your pardon, my dear," said Mrs. Stanbury, very humbly.
At that time the quarrel was raging, but afterwards came the
reconciliation. Had it not been for the Stanbury correspondence the
fact of Colonel Osborne's threatened visit would have been admitted
as a thing necessary--as a disagreeable necessity; but how was
the visit to be admitted and passed over in the teeth of that
correspondence? Priscilla felt very keenly the peculiar cruelty
of her position. Of course Aunt Stanbury would hear of the visit.
Indeed, any secrecy in the matter was not compatible with Priscilla's
ideas of honesty. Her aunt had apologised humbly for having said
that Colonel Osborne had been at Nuncombe. That apology, doubtless,
had been due. Colonel Osborne had not been at Nuncombe when the
accusation had been made, and the accusation had been unjust and
false. But his coming had been spoken of by Priscilla in her own
letters as an occurrence which was quite out of the question. Her
anger against her aunt had been for saying that the man had come,
not for objecting to such a visit. And now the man was coming, and
Aunt Stanbury would know all about it. How great, how terrible, how
crushing would be Aunt Stanbury's triumph!
"I must write and tell her," said Priscilla.
"I am sure I shall not object," said Mrs. Trevelyan.
"And Hugh must be told," said Mrs. Stanbury.
"You may tell all the world, if you like," said Mrs. Trevelyan.
In this way it was settled among them that Colonel Osborne was to
be received. On the next morning, Friday morning, Colonel Osborne,
doubtless having heard something of Mrs. Crocket from his friend
at Cockchaffington, was up early, and had himself driven over to
Nuncombe Putney before breakfast. The ever-watchful Bozzle was, of
course, at his heels,--or rather, not at his heels on the first two
miles of the journey; for Bozzle, with painful zeal, had made himself
aware of all the facts, and had started on the Nuncombe Putney road
half an hour before the Colonel's fly was in motion. And when the
fly passed him he was lying discreetly hidden behind an old oak. The
driver, however, had caught a glimpse of him as he was topping a
hill, and having seen him about on the previous day, and perceiving
that he was dressed in a decent coat and trousers, and that,
nevertheless, he was not a gentleman, began to suspect that he
was--somebody. There was a great deal said afterwards about Bozzle in
Mrs. Clegg's yard at Lessboro'; but the Lessboro' mind was never able
to satisfy itself altogether respecting Bozzle and his mission. As
to Colonel Osborne and his mission, the Lessboro' mind did satisfy
itself with much certainty. The horse was hardly taken from out of
Colonel Osborne's fly in Mrs. Crocket's yard when Bozzle stepped
into the village by a path which he had already discovered, and soon
busied himself among the tombs in the churchyard. Now, one corner of
the churchyard was immediately opposite to the iron gate leading into
the Clock House. "Drat 'un," said the wooden-legged postman, still
sitting on his donkey, to Mrs. Crocket's ostler, "if there be'ant the
chap as was here yesterday when I was a starting, and I zeed 'un in
Lezbro' street thick very morning." "He be'ant arter no good, that
'un," said the ostler. After that a close watch was kept upon the
watcher.
[Illustration: The wooden-legged postman of Nuncombe Putney.]
In the meantime, Colonel Osborne had ordered his breakfast at the
Stag and Antlers, and had asked questions as to the position of the
Clock House. He was altogether ignorant of Mr. Bozzle, although Mr.
Bozzle had been on his track now for two days and two nights. He had
determined, as he came on to Nuncombe Putney, that he would not be
shame-faced about his visit to Mrs. Trevelyan. It is possible that
he was not so keen in the matter as he had been when he planned his
journey in London; and, it may be, that he really tried to make
himself believe that he had come all the way to the confines of
Dartmoor to see the porch of Cockchaffington Church. The session
in London was over, and it was necessary for such a man as Colonel
Osborne that he should do something with himself before he went down
to the Scotch grouse. He had long desired to see something of the
most picturesque county in England; and now, as he sat eating his
breakfast in Mrs. Crocket's parlour, he almost looked upon his dear
Emily as a subsidiary attraction. "Oh, that's the Clock House,"
he said to Mrs. Crocket. "No, I have not the pleasure of knowing
Mrs. Stanbury; very respectable lady, so I have heard; widow of a
clergyman; ah, yes; son up in London; I know him;--always writing
books is he? Very clever, I dare say. But there's a lady,--indeed two
ladies,--whom I do know. Mrs. Trevelyan is there, I think,--and Miss
Rowley."
"You be'ant Muster Trevelyan, be you?" said Mrs. Crocket, looking at
him very hard.
"No, I'm not Mr. Trevelyan."
"Nor yet 'the Colonel' they doo be talking about?"
"Well, yes, I am a colonel. I don't know why anybody should talk
about me. I'll just step out now, however, and see my friends."
"It's madam's lover," said Mrs. Crocket to herself, "as sure as eggs
is eggs." As she said so, Colonel Osborne boldly walked across the
village and pulled the bell at the iron gate, while Bozzle, crouching
among the tombs, saw the handle in his hand. "There he is," said
Priscilla. Everybody in the Clock House had known that the fly,
which they had seen, had brought "the Colonel" into Nuncombe Putney.
Everybody had known that he had breakfasted at the Stag and Antlers.
And everybody now knew that he was at the gate ringing the bell.
"Into the drawing-room," said Mrs. Stanbury, with a fearful,
tremulous whisper, to the girl who went across the little garden
in front to open the iron gate. The girl felt as though Apollyon
were there, and as though she were called upon to admit Apollyon.
Mrs. Stanbury having uttered her whisper, hurried away up-stairs.
Priscilla held her ground in the parlour, determined to be near the
scene of action if there might be need. And it must be acknowledged
that she peeped from behind the curtain, anxious to catch a glimpse
of the terrible man, whose coming to Nuncombe Putney she regarded as
so severe a misfortune.
The plan of the campaign had all been arranged. Mrs. Trevelyan and
Nora together received Colonel Osborne in the drawing-room. It was
understood that Nora was to remain there during the whole visit. "It
is horrible to think that such a precaution should be necessary,"
Mrs. Trevelyan had said, "but perhaps it may be best. There is no
knowing what the malice of people may not invent."
"My dear girls," said the Colonel, "I am delighted to see you," and
he gave a hand to each.
"We are not very cheerful here," said Mrs. Trevelyan, "as you may
imagine."
"But the scenery is beautiful," said Nora, "and the people we are
living with are kind and nice."
"I am very glad of that," said the Colonel. Then there was a pause,
and it seemed, for a moment or two, that none of them knew how to
begin a general conversation. Colonel Osborne was quite sure, by this
time, that he had come down to Devonshire with the express object of
seeing the door of the church at Cockchaffington, and Mrs. Trevelyan
was beginning to think that he certainly had not come to see her.
"Have you heard from your father since you have been here?" asked the
Colonel.
Then there was an explanation about Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley.
Mr. Trevelyan's name was not mentioned; but Mrs. Trevelyan stated
that she had explained to her mother all the painful circumstances of
her present life. Sir Marmaduke, as Colonel Osborne was aware, was
expected to be in England in the spring, and Lady Rowley would, of
course, come with him. Nora thought that they might probably now come
before that time; but Mrs. Trevelyan declared that it was out of the
question that they should do so. She was sure that her father could
not leave the islands except when he did so in obedience to official
orders. The expense of doing so would be ruinous to him. And what
good would he do? In this way there was a great deal of family
conversation, in which Colonel Osborne was able to take a part; but
not a word was said about Mr. Trevelyan.
Nor did "the Colonel" find an opportunity of expressing a spark of
that sentiment, for the purpose of expressing which he had made
this journey to Devonshire. It is not pleasant to make love in the
presence of a third person, even when that love is all fair and above
board; but it is quite impracticable to do so to a married lady, when
that married lady's sister is present. No more futile visit than
this of Colonel Osborne's to the Clock House was ever made. And yet,
though not a word was spoken to which Mr. Trevelyan himself could
have taken the slightest exception, the visit, futile as it was,
could not but do an enormous deal of harm. Mrs. Crocket had already
guessed that the fine gentleman down from London was the lover of the
married lady at the Clock House, who was separated from her husband.
The wooden-legged postman and the ostler were not long in connecting
the man among the tombstones with the visitor to the house.
Trevelyan, as we are aware, already knew that Colonel Osborne was in
the neighbourhood. And poor Priscilla Stanbury was now exposed to the
terrible necessity of owning the truth to her aunt. "The Colonel,"
when he had sat an hour with his young friends, took his leave; and,
as he walked back to Mrs. Crocket's, and ordered that his fly might
be got ready for him, his mind was heavy with the disagreeable
feeling that he had made an ass of himself. The whole affair had
been a failure; and though he might be able to pass off the porch at
Cockchaffington among his friends, he could not but be aware himself
that he had spent his time, his trouble, and his money for nothing.
He became aware, as he returned to Lessboro', that had he intended to
make any pleasant use whatever of his position in reference to Mrs.
Trevelyan, the tone of his letter and his whole mode of proceeding
should have been less patriarchal. And he should have contrived a
meeting without the presence of Nora Rowley.
As soon as he had left them, Mrs. Trevelyan went to her own room, and
Nora at once rejoined Priscilla.
"Is he gone?" asked Priscilla.
"Oh, yes;--he has gone."
"What would I have given that he had never come!"
"And yet," said Nora, "what harm has he done? I wish he had not come,
because, of course, people will talk! But nothing was more natural
than that he should come over to see us when he was so near us."
"Nora!"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't believe all that? In the neighbourhood! I believe he came
on purpose to see your sister, and I think that it was a dastardly
and most ungentleman-like thing to do."
"I am quite sure you are wrong, then,--altogether wrong," said Nora.
"Very well. We must have our own opinions. I am glad you can be so
charitable. But he should not have come here,--to this house, even
though imperative business had brought him into the very village.
But men in their vanity never think of the injury they may do to a
woman's name. Now I must go and write to my aunt. I am not going to
have it said hereafter that I deceived her. And then I shall write to
Hugh. Oh dear; oh dear!"
"I am afraid we are a great trouble to you."
"I will not deceive you, because I like you. This is a great trouble
to me. I have meant to be so prudent, and with all my prudence I have
not been able to keep clear of rocks. And I have been so indignant
with Aunt Stanbury! Now I must go and eat humble-pie."
Then she eat humble-pie,--after the following fashion:--
DEAR AUNT STANBURY,
After what has passed between us, I think it right to tell
you that Colonel Osborne has been at Nuncombe Putney, and
that he called at the Clock House this morning. We did not
see him. But Mrs. Trevelyan and Miss Rowley, together, did
see him. He remained here perhaps an hour.
I should not have thought it necessary to mention this to
you, the matter being one in which you are not concerned,
were it not for our former correspondence. When I last
wrote, I had no idea that he was coming,--nor had mamma.
And when you first wrote, he was not even expected by
Mrs. Trevelyan. The man you wrote about was another
gentleman;--as I told you before. All this is most
disagreeable and tiresome;--and would be quite
nonsensical, but that circumstances seem to make it
necessary.
As for Colonel Osborne, I wish he had not been here; but
his coming would do no harm,--only that it will be talked
about.
I think you will understand how it is that I feel myself
constrained to write to you. I do hope that you will spare
mamma, who is disturbed and harassed when she gets angry
letters. If you have anything to say to myself, I don't
mind it.
Yours truly,
PRISCILLA STANBURY.
The Clock House, Friday, August 5.
She wrote also to her brother Hugh; but Hugh himself reached Nuncombe
Putney before the letter reached him.
Mr. Bozzle watched the Colonel out of the house, and watched him
out of the village. When the Colonel was fairly started, Mr. Bozzle
walked back to Lessboro'.