ture Lady Peterborough; but as soon as she reached the sacredness
of her own chamber, she gave way to an agony of tears. It would,
indeed, be much to be a Lady Peterborough. And she had, in truth,
refused it all because of Hugh Stanbury! Was Hugh Stanbury worth so
great a sacrifice?

CHAPTER XIV.

THE CLOCK HOUSE AT NUNCOMBE PUTNEY.

It was not till a fortnight had passed after the transaction recorded
in the last chapter, that Mrs. Trevelyan and Nora Rowley first heard
the proposition that they should go to live at Nuncombe Putney. From
bad to worse the quarrel between the husband and the wife had gone
on, till Trevelyan had at last told his friend Lady Milborough
that he had made up his mind that they must live apart. "She is so
self-willed,--and perhaps I am the same," he had said, "that it
is impossible that we should live together." Lady Milborough had
implored and called to witness all testimonies, profane and sacred,
against such a step,--had almost gone down on her knees. Go to
Naples,--why not Naples? Or to the quiet town in the west of France,
which was so dull that a wicked roaring lion, fond of cities and
gambling, and eating and drinking, could not live in such a place!
Oh, why not go to the quiet town in the west of France? Was not
anything better than this flying in the face of God and man? Perhaps
Trevelyan did not himself like the idea of the quiet dull French
town. Perhaps he thought that the flying in the face of God and man
was all done by his wife, not by him; and that it was right that his
wife should feel the consequences. After many such entreaties, many
such arguments, it was at last decided that the house in Curzon
Street should be given up, and that he and his wife live apart.

"And what about Nora Rowley?" asked Lady Milborough, who had become
aware by this time of Nora's insane folly in having refused Mr.
Glascock.

"She will go with her sister, I suppose."

"And who will maintain her? Dear, dear, dear! It does seem as though
some young people were bent upon cutting their own throats, and all
their family's."

Poor Lady Milborough just at this time went as near to disliking the
Rowleys as was compatible with her nature. It was not possible to her
to hate anybody. She thought that she hated the Colonel Osbornes; but
even that was a mistake. She was very angry, however, with both Mrs.
Trevelyan and her sister, and was disposed to speak of them as though
they had been born to