iged to see him when he came."

"Yes, and to pay him, I do not doubt. But that is all done, and
should be forgotten."

"I can't forget it. Is it true or untrue that he found that man down
there? Is it true or untrue that my wife received Colonel Osborne at
your mother's house? Is it true or untrue that Colonel Osborne went
down there with the express object of seeing her? Is it true or
untrue that they had corresponded? It is nonsense to bid me to forget
all this. You might as well ask me to forget that I had desired her
neither to write to him, nor to see him."

"If I understand the matter," said Trevelyan, "you are incorrect in
one of your assertions."

"In which?"

"You must excuse me if I am wrong, Trevelyan; but I don't think you
ever did tell your wife not to see this man, or not to write to him?"

"I never told her! I don't understand what you mean."

"Not in so many words. It is my belief that she has endeavoured to
obey implicitly every clear instruction that you have given her."

"You are wrong;--absolutely and altogether wrong. Heaven and earth!
Do you mean to tell me now, after all that has taken place, that she
did not know my wishes?"

"I have not said that. But you have chosen to place her in such a
position, that though your word would go for much with her, she
cannot bring herself to respect your wishes."

"And you call that being dutiful and affectionate!"

"I call it human and reasonable; and I think that it is compatible
with duty and affection. Have you consulted her wishes?"

"Always!"

"Consult them now then, and bid her come back to you."

"No;--never! As far as I can see, I will never do so. The moment she
is away from me this man goes to her, and she receives him. She must
have known that she was wrong,--and you must know it."

"I do not think that she is half so wrong as you yourself," said
Stanbury. To this Trevelyan made no answer, and they both remained
silent some minutes. Stanbury had a communication to make before he
went, but it was one which he wished to delay as long as there was a
chance that his friend's heart might be softened;--one which he need
not make if Trevelyan would consent to receive his wife back to his
house. There was the day's paper lying on the table, and Stanbury had
taken it up and was reading it,--or pretending to read it.

"I will tell you what I propose to do," said Trevelyan.

"Well."

"It is best both for her and for me that we should be