apart."

"I cannot understand how you can be so mad as to say so."

"You don't understand what I feel. Heaven and earth! To have a man
coming and going--. But, never mind. You do not see it, and nothing
will make you see it. And there is no reason why you should."

"I certainly do not see it. I do not believe that your wife cares
more for Colonel Osborne, except as an old friend of her father's,
than she does for the fellow that sweeps the crossing. It is a matter
in which I am bound to tell you what I think."

"Very well. Now, if you have freed your mind, I will tell you my
purpose. I am bound to do so, because your people are concerned in
it. I shall go abroad."

"And leave her in England?"

"Certainly. She will be safer here than she can be abroad,--unless
she should choose to go back with her father to the islands."

"And take the boy?"

"No;--I could not permit that. What I intend is this. I will give
her L800 a year, as long as I have reason to believe that she has no
communication whatever, either by word of mouth or by letter, with
that man. If she does, I will put the case immediately into the hands
of my lawyer, with instructions to him to ascertain from counsel what
severest steps I can take."

"How I hate that word severe, when applied to a woman."

"I dare say you do,--when applied to another man's wife. But there
will be no severity in my first proposition. As for the child,--if
I approve of the place in which she lives, as I do at present,--he
shall remain with her for nine months in the year till he is
six years old. Then he must come to me. And he shall come to me
altogether if she sees or hears from that man. I believe that L800
a year will enable her to live with all comfort under your mother's
roof."

"As to that," said Stanbury, slowly, "I suppose I had better tell you
at once, that the Nuncombe Putney arrangement cannot be considered as
permanent."

"Why not?"

"Because my mother is timid and nervous, and altogether unused to the
world."

"That unfortunate woman is to be sent away,--even from Nuncombe
Putney!"

"Understand me, Trevelyan."

"I understand you. I understand you most thoroughly. Nor do I wonder
at it in the least. Do not suppose that I am angry with your mother,
or with you, or with your sister. I have no right to expect that they
should keep her after that man has made his way into their house. I
can well conceive that no honest, high-minded lady would do so."