Then there was an explanation about Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley.  Mr Trevelyan’s name was not mentioned; but Mrs Trevelyan stated that she had explained to her mother all the painful circumstances of her present life.  Sir Marmaduke, as Colonel Osborne was aware, was expected to be in England in the spring, and Lady Rowley would, of course, come with him.  Nora thought that they might probably now come before that time; but Mrs Trevelyan declared that it was out of the question that they should do so.  She was sure that her father could not leave the islands except when he did so in obedience to official orders.  The expense of doing so would be ruinous to him.  And what good would he do?  In this way there was a great deal of family conversation, in which Colonel Osborne was able to take a part; but not a word was said about Mr Trevelyan.

Nor did ‘the Colonel’ find an opportunity of expressing a spark of that sentiment, for the purpose of expressing which he had made this journey to Devonshire.  It is not pleasant to make love in the presence of a third person, even when that love is all fair and above board; but it is quite impracticable to do so to a married lady, when that married lady’s sister is present.  No more futile visit than this of Colonel Osborne’s to the Clock House was ever made.  And yet, though not a word was spoken to which Mr Trevelyan himself could have taken the slightest exception, the visit, futile as it was, could not but do an enormous deal of harm.  Mrs Crocket had already guessed that the fine gentleman down from London was the lover of the married lady at the Clock House, who was separated from her husband.  The wooden-legged postman and the ostler were not long in connecting the man among the tombstones with the visitor to the house.  Trevelyan, as we are aware, already knew that Colonel Osborne was in the neighbourhood.  And poor Priscilla Stanbury was now exposed to the terrible necessity of owning the truth to her aunt.  ‘The Colonel,’ when he had sat an hour with his young friends, took his leave; and, as he walked back to Mrs Crocket’s, and ordered that his fly might be got ready for him, his mind was heavy with the disagreeable feeling that he had made an ass of himself.  The whole affair had been a failure; and though he might be able to pass off the porch at Cockchaffington among his friends, he could not but be aware himself that he had spent his time, his trouble, and his money for nothing.  He became aware, as he returned to Lessboro’, that had he intended to make any pleasant use whatever of his position in reference to Mrs Trevelyan, the tone of his letter and his whole mode of proceeding should have been less patriarchal.  And he should have contrived a meeting without the presence of Nora Rowley.

As soon as he had left them, Mrs Trevelyan went to her own room, and Nora at once rejoined Priscilla.

‘Is he gone?’ asked Priscilla.

‘Oh, yes he has gone.’