He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (books you need to read .txt) 📕

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 again tomorrow 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 away from her. When Sir Marmaduke is in

England, you can see him, if you please.’

‘See him? Of course, I shall see him. And, by George, Louis Trevelyan

will have to see him, too! I shouldn’t like to have to stand up before

Rowley if I had treated a daughter of his in such a fashion. You know

Rowley, of course?’

‘Oh, yes; I know him.’

‘He’s not the sort of man to bear this sort of thing. He’ll about tear

Trevelyan in pieces if he gets hold of him. God bless my soul—’ the

eyebrows went to work again ‘I never heard of such a thing in all my

life! Does he pay anything for them, Mr Outhouse?’

This was dreadful to the poor clergyman. ‘That is a subject which we

surely need not discuss,’ said he. Then he remembered that such speech

on his part was like to a subterfuge, and he found it necessary to put

himself right. ‘I am repaid for the maintenance here of my nieces, and

the little boy, and their attendants. I do not know why the question

should be asked, but such is the fact.’

‘Then they are here by agreement between you and him?’

‘No, sir; they are not. There is no such agreement. But I do not like

these interrogatives from a stranger as to matters which should be

private.’

‘You cannot wonder at my interest, Mr Outhouse.’

‘You had better restrain it, sir, till Sir Marmaduke arrives. I shall

then wash my hands of the affair.’

‘And she is pretty well—Emily, I mean?’

‘Mrs Trevelyan’s health is good.’

‘Pray tell her though I could not, might not, ask to see her, I came to

inquire after her the first moment that I was in London. Pray tell her

how much I feel for her; but she will know that. When Sir Marmaduke is

here, of course, we shall meet. When she is once more under her

father’s wing, she need not be restrained by any absurd commands from a

husband who has deserted her. At present, of course, I do not ask to

see her.’

‘Of course, you do not, Colonel Osborne.’

‘And give my love to Nora, dear little Nora! There can be no reason why

she and I should not shake hands.’

‘I should prefer that it should not be so in this house,’ said the

clergyman, who was now standing in expectation that his unwelcome guest

would go.

‘Very well, so be it. But you will understand I could not be in London

without coming and asking after them.’ Then the Colonel at last took

his leave, and Mr Outhouse was left to his solitude and his sermons.

Mrs Outhouse was very angry when she heard of the visit. ‘Men of that

sort,’ she said, ‘think it a fine thing and talk about it. I believe

the poor girl is as innocent as I am, but he isn’t innocent. He likes

it.’

‘“It is easier,”’ said Mr Outhouse solemnly, ‘“for a camel to go

through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom

of God.”’

‘I don’t know that he is a rich man,’ said Mrs Outhouse; ‘but he

wouldn’t have come here if he had been honest.’

Mrs Trevelyan was told of the visit, and simply said that of course it

was out of the question that she should have seen Colonel Osborne.

Nevertheless she seemed to think it quite natural that he should have

called, and defended him with some energy when her aunt declared that

he had been much to blame. ‘He is not bound to obey Mr Trevelyan

because I am,’ said Emily.

‘He is bound to abstain from evil doing,’ said Mrs Outhouse; ‘and he

oughtn’t to have come. There; let that be enough, my dear. Your uncle

doesn’t wish to have it talked about.’ Nevertheless it was talked about

between the two sisters. Nora was of opinion that Colonel Osborne had

been wrong, whereas Emily defended him. ‘It seems to me to have been

the most natural thing in life,’ said she.

Had Colonel Osborne made the visit as Sir Marmaduke’s friend, feeling

himself to be an old man, it might have been natural. When a man has

come to regard himself as being, on the score of age, about as fit to

be a young lady’s lover as though he were an old woman instead of an

old man, which some men will do when they are younger even than was

Colonel Osborne, he is justified in throwing behind him as utterly

absurd the suspicions of other people. But Colonel Osborne cannot be

defended altogether on that plea.