ossible length,--even to the locking
up of the husband as a madman, if it were possible,--nevertheless, he
had almost as great a horror of the Colonel, as though the husband's
allegation as to the lover had been true as gospel. Because Trevelyan
had been wrong altogether, Colonel Osborne was not the less wrong.
Because Trevelyan's suspicions were to Mr. Outhouse wicked and
groundless, he did not the less regard the presumed lover to be an
iniquitous roaring lion, going about seeking whom he might devour.
Elderly unmarried men of fashion generally, and especially colonels,
and majors, and members of parliament, and such like, were to him
as black sheep or roaring lions. They were "fruges consumere nati;"
men who stood on club doorsteps talking naughtily and doing nothing,
wearing sleek clothing, for which they very often did not pay, and
never going to church. It seemed to him,--in his ignorance,--that
such men had none of the burdens of this world upon their shoulders,
and that, therefore, they stood in great peril of the burdens of the
next. It was, doubtless, his special duty to deal with men in such
peril;--but those wicked ones with whom he was concerned were those
whom he could reach. Now, the Colonel Osbornes of the earth were
not to be got at by any clergyman, or, as far as Mr. Outhouse could
see, by any means of grace. That story of the rich man and the camel
seemed to him to be specially applicable to such people. How was such
a one as Colonel Osborne to be shewn the way through the eye of a
needle? To Mr. Outhouse, his own brother-in-law, Sir Marmaduke, was
almost of the same class,--for he frequented clubs when in London,
and played whist, and talked of the things of the world,--such as the
Derby, and the levees, and West-end dinner parties,--as though they
were all in all to him. He, to be sure, was weighted with so large
a family that there might be hope for him. The eye of the needle
could not be closed against him as a rich man; but he savoured of
the West-end, and was worldly, and consorted with such men as this
Colonel Osborne. When Colonel Osborne introduced himself to Mr.
Outhouse, it was almost as though Apollyon had made his way into the
parsonage of St. Diddulph's.

"Mr. Outhouse," said the Colonel, "I have thought it best to come
to you the very moment that I got back to town from Scotland." Mr.
Outhouse bowed, and was bethinking himself slowly what manner of
speech he would adopt. "I leave town