that his legs were hardly strong enough to carry
him. And Stanbury saw, moreover, that the unfortunate man took two
glasses out of the bottle. "Go to England indeed. I do not think much
of this country; but it is, at any rate, better than England."

Hugh perceived that he could do nothing more on the present occasion.
Having heard so much of Trevelyan's debility, he had been astonished
to hear the man speak with so much volubility and attempts at
high-flown spirit. Before he had taken the wine he had almost sunk
into his chair, but still he had continued to speak with the same
fluent would-be cynicism. "I will come and see you again," said Hugh,
getting up to take his departure.

"You might as well save your trouble, Stanbury; but you can come if
you please, you know. If you should find yourself locked out, you
won't be angry. A hermit such as I am must assume privileges."

"I won't be angry," said Hugh, good humouredly.

"I can smell what you are come about," said Trevelyan. "You and my
wife want to take me away from here among you, and I think it best to
stay here. I don't want much for myself, and why should I not live
here? My wife can remain at Siena if she pleases, or she can go to
England if she pleases. She must give me the same liberty;--the same
liberty,--the same liberty." After this he fell a-coughing violently,
and Stanbury thought it better to leave him. He had been at Casalunga
about two hours, and did not seem as yet to have done any good.
He had been astonished both by Trevelyan's weakness, and by his
strength; by his folly, and by his sharpness. Hitherto he could see
no way for his future sister-in-law out of her troubles.

When he was with her at Siena, he described what had taken place
with all the accuracy in his power. "He has intermittent days,"
said Emily. "To-morrow he will be in quite another frame of
mind,--melancholy, silent perhaps, and self-reproachful. We will
both go to-morrow, and we shall find probably that he has forgotten
altogether what has passed to-day between you and him."

So their plans for the morrow were formed.

CHAPTER XCIII.

"SAY THAT YOU FORGIVE ME."

[Illustration]

On the following day, again early in the morning, Mrs. Trevelyan and
Stanbury were driven out to Casalunga. The country people along the
road knew the carriage well, and the lady who occupied it, and would
say that the English wife was going to see her mad husband. Mrs.
Trevelyan knew