have any effect
upon me."

"I think you are so wrong, Emily. I do indeed."

"You must allow me to be the best judge what to do in my own house,
and with my own husband."

"Oh, yes; certainly."

"If he gives me any command I will obey it. Or if he had expressed
his wish in any other words I would have complied. But to be told
that he would rather not have Colonel Osborne here! If you had seen
his manner and heard his words, you would not have been surprised
that I should feel it as I do. It was a gross insult,--and it was not
the first."

As she spoke the fire flashed from her eye, and the bright red colour
of her cheek told a tale of her anger which her sister well knew how
to read. Then there was a knock at the door, and they both knew that
Colonel Osborne was there. Louis Trevelyan, sitting in his library,
also knew of whose coming that knock gave notice.

CHAPTER II.

COLONEL OSBORNE.

It has been already said that Colonel Osborne was a bachelor, a man
of fortune, a member of Parliament, and one who carried his half
century of years lightly on his shoulders. It will only be necessary
to say further of him that he was a man popular with those among
whom he lived, as a politician, as a sportsman, and as a member
of society. He could speak well in the House, though he spoke but
seldom, and it was generally thought of him that he might have been
something considerable, had it not suited him better to be nothing at
all. He was supposed to be a Conservative, and generally voted with
the Conservative party; but he could boast that he was altogether
independent, and on an occasion would take the trouble of proving
himself to be so. He was in possession of excellent health; had all
that the world could give; was fond of books, pictures, architecture,
and china; had various tastes, and the means of indulging them, and
was one of those few men on whom it seems that every pleasant thing
has been lavished. There was that little slur on his good name to
which allusion has been made; but those who knew Colonel Osborne best
were generally willing to declare that no harm was intended, and
that the evils which arose were always to be attributed to mistaken
jealousy. He had, his friends said, a free and pleasant way with
women which women like,--a pleasant way of free friendship; that
there was no more, and that the harm which had come had always
come from false suspicion. But there were certain ladies about the
to