Trevelyan’s letter to his wife fell like a thunderbolt among them at Nuncombe Putney. Mrs Trevelyan was altogether unable to keep it to herself; indeed she made no attempt at doing so. Her husband had told her that she was to be banished from the Clock House because her present hostess was unable to endure her misconduct, and of course she demanded the reasons of the charge that was thus brought against her. When she first read the letter, which she did in the presence of her sister, she towered in her passion.

‘Disgraced him! I have never disgraced him. It is he that has disgraced me. Correspondence! Yes he shall see it all. Unjust, ignorant, foolish man! He does not remember that the last instructions he really gave me, were to bid me see Colonel Osborne. Take my boy away! Yes. Of course, I am a woman and must suffer. I will write to Colonel Osborne, and will tell him the truth, and will send my letter to Louis. He shall know how he has ill-treated me! I will not take a penny of his money, not a penny. Maintain you! I believe he thinks that we are beggars. Leave this house because of my conduct! What can Mrs Stanbury have said? What can any of them have said? I will demand to be told. Free himself from the connection! Oh, Nora, Nora! that it should come to this! that I should be thus threatened, who have been as innocent as a baby! If it were not for my child, I think that I should destroy myself!’

Nora said what she could to comfort her sister, insisting chiefly on the promise that the child should not be taken away. There was no doubt as to the husband’s power in the mind of either of them; and though, as regarded herself, Mrs Trevelyan would have defied her husband, let his power be what it might, yet she acknowledged to herself that she was in some degree restrained by the fear that she would find herself deprived of her only comfort.

‘We must just go where he bids us till papa comes,’ said Nora.

‘And when papa is here, what help will there be then? He will not let me go back to the islands with my boy. For myself I might die, or get out of his way anywhere. I can see that. Priscilla Stanbury is right when she says that no woman should trust herself to any man. Disgraced! That I should live to be told by my husband that I had disgraced him by a lover!’

There was some sort of agreement made between the two sisters as to the manner in which Priscilla should be interrogated respecting the sentence of banishment which had been passed. They both agreed that it would be useless to make inquiry of Mrs Stanbury. If anything had really been said to justify the statement made in Mr Trevelyan’s letter, it must have come from Priscilla, and have reached Trevelyan through Priscilla’s brother. They, both of them, had sufficiently learned the ways of the house to be sure that Mrs Stanbury had not been the person active in the matter. They went down, therefore, together, and found Priscilla seated at her desk in the parlour. Mrs Stanbury was also in the room, and it had been presumed between the sisters that the interrogation should be made in that lady’s absence; but Mrs Trevelyan was too hot in the matter for restraint, and she at once opened out her budget of grievance.

‘I have a letter from my husband,’ she said and then paused. But Priscilla, seeing from the fire in her eyes that she was much moved, made no reply, but turned to listen to what might further be said. ‘I do not know why I should trouble you with his suspicions,’ continued Mrs Trevelyan, ‘or read to you what he says about Colonel Osborne.’ As she spoke she was holding her husband’s letter open in her hands. ‘There is nothing in it that you do not know. He says I have corresponded with him. So I have and he shall see the correspondence. He says that Colonel Osborne visited me. He did come to see me and Nora.’

‘As any other old man might have done,’ said Nora.

‘It was not likely that I should openly confess myself to be afraid to see my father’s old friend. But the truth is, my husband does not know what a woman is.’

She had begun by declaring that she would not trouble her friend with any statement of her husband’s complaints against her; but now she had made her way to the subject, and could hardly refrain herself. Priscilla understood this, and thought that it would be wise to interrupt her by a word that might bring her back to her original purpose. ‘Is there anything,’ said she, ‘which we can do to help you?’

‘To help me? No God only can help me. But Louis informs me that I am to be turned out of this house, because you demand that we should go.’

‘Who says that?’ exclaimed Mrs Stanbury.

‘My husband. Listen; this is what he says “I am greatly grieved to hear from my friend Mr Stanbury that your conduct in reference to Colonel Osborne has been such as to make it necessary that you should leave Mrs Stanbury’s house.” Is that true? Is that true?’ In her general mode of carrying herself, and of enduring the troubles of her life, Mrs Trevelyan was a strong woman; but now her grief was too much for her, and she burst out into tears. ‘I am the most unfortunate woman that ever was born!’ she sobbed out through her tears.

‘I never said that you were to go,’ said Mrs Stanbury.

‘But your son has told Mr Trevelyan that we must go,’ said Nora, who felt that her sense of injury against Hugh Stanbury was greatly increased by what had taken place. To her mind he was the person most important in the matter. Why had he desired that they should be sent away from the Clock House? She was very angry with him, and declared to herself that she hated him with all her heart. For this man she had sent away that other lover, a lover who had really loved her! And she had even confessed that it was so!

‘There is a misunderstanding about this,’ said Priscilla.

‘It must be with your brother, then,’ said Nora.

‘I think not,’ said Priscilla: ‘I think that it has been with Mr Trevelyan.’ Then she went on to explain, with much difficulty, but still with a slow distinctness that was peculiar to her, what had really taken place. ‘We have endeavoured,’ she said, ‘to show you, my mother and I, that we have not misjudged you; but it is certainly true that I told my brother that I did not think the arrangement a good one quite as a permanence.’ It was very difficult, and her cheeks were red as she spoke, and her lips faltered. It was an exquisite pain to her to have to give the pain which her words would convey; but there was no help for it as she said to herself more than once at the time, there was nothing to be done but to tell the truth.

‘I never said so,’ blurted out Mrs Stanbury, with her usual weakness.

‘No, mother. It was my saying. In discussing what was best for us all, with Hugh, I told him what I have just now explained.’

‘Then of course we must go,’ said Mrs Trevelyan, who had gulped down her sobs and was resolved to be firm, to give way to no more tears, to bear all without sign of womanly weakness.

‘You will stay with us till your father comes,’ said Priscilla.

‘Of course you will,’ said Mrs Stanbury ‘you and Nora. We have got to be such friends, now.’

‘No,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘As to friendship for me, it is out of the question. We must pack up, Nora, and go somewhere. Heaven knows where!’

Nora was now sobbing. ‘Why your brother should want to turn us out after he has sent us here!’

‘My brother wants nothing of the kind,’ said Priscilla. ‘Your sister has no better friend than my brother.’

‘It will be better, Nora, to discuss the matter no further,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘We must go away somewhere; and the sooner the better. To be an unwelcome guest is always bad; but to be unwelcome for such a reason as this is terrible.’

‘There is no reason,’ said Mrs Stanbury; ‘indeed there is none.’

‘Mrs Trevelyan will understand us better when she is less excited,’ said Priscilla. ‘I am not surprised that she should be indignant now. I can only say again that we hope you will stay with us till Sir Marmaduke Rowley shall be in England.’

‘That is not what your brother means,’ said Nora.

‘Nor is it what I mean,’ said Mrs Trevelyan. ‘Nora, we had better go to our own room. I suppose I must write to my husband; indeed, of course I must, that I may send him the the correspondence. I fear I cannot walk out into the street, Mrs Stanbury, and make you quit of me till I hear from him. And if I were to go to............