again to-morrow for Dorsetshire.
I am going down to my friends, the Brambers, for partridge shooting."
Mr. Outhouse knitted his thick brows, in further inward condemnation.
Partridge shooting! yes;--this was September, and partridge shooting
would be the probable care and occupation of such a man at such a
time. A man without a duty in the world! Perhaps, added to this there
was a feeling that, whereas Colonel Osborne could shoot Scotch grouse
in August, and Dorsetshire partridges in September, and go about
throughout the whole year like a roaring lion, he, Mr. Outhouse,
was forced to remain at St. Diddulph's-in-the-East, from January to
December, with the exception of one small parson's week spent at
Margate, for the benefit of his wife's health. If there was such a
thought, or rather, such a feeling, who will say that it was not
natural? "But I could not go through London without seeing you,"
continued the Colonel. "This is a most frightful infatuation of
Trevelyan!"

"Very frightful, indeed," said Mr. Outhouse.

"And, on my honour as a gentleman, not the slightest cause in the
world."

"You are old enough to be the lady's father," said Mr. Outhouse,
managing in that to get one blow at the gallant Colonel.

"Just so. God bless my soul!" Mr. Outhouse shrunk visibly at this
profane allusion to the Colonel's soul. "Why, I've known her father
ever so many years. As you say, I might almost be her father myself."
As far as age went, such certainly might have been the case, for the
Colonel was older than Sir Marmaduke. "Look here, Mr. Outhouse, here
is a letter I got from Emily--"

"From Mrs. Trevelyan?"

"Yes, from Mrs. Trevelyan; and as well as I can understand, it must
have been sent to me by Trevelyan himself. Did you ever hear of such
a thing? And now I'm told he has gone away, nobody knows where, and
has left her here."

"He has gone away,--nobody knows where."

"Of course, I don't ask to see her."

"It would be imprudent, Colonel Osborne; and could not be permitted
in this house."

"I don't ask it. I have known Emily Trevelyan since she was an
infant, and have always loved her. I'm her godfather, for aught I
know,--though one forgets things of that sort." Mr. Outhouse again
knit his eyebrows and shuddered visibly. "She and I have been fast
friends,--and why not? But, of course, I can't interfere."

"If you ask me, Colonel Osborne, I should say that you can do nothing
in the matter;--except to remain aw