one desire namely, that he should find her out, that the evidence should be conclusive, that it should be proved, and so brought to an end.  Then he would destroy her, and destroy that man and afterwards destroy himself, so bitter to him would be his ignominy.  He almost revelled in the idea of the tragedy he would make.  It was three o’clock before he was in his bedroom, and then he wrote his letter to Mr Outhouse before he took himself to his bed.  It was as follows: 

’Venice, Oct. 4, 186-.

Sir

Information of a certain kind, on which I can place a firm reliance, has reached me, to the effect that Colonel Osborne has been allowed to visit at your house during the sojourn of my wife under your roof.  I will thank you to inform me whether this be true; as, although I am confident of my facts, it is necessary, in reference to my ulterior conduct, that I should have from you either an admission or a denial of my assertion.  It is of course open to you to leave my letter unanswered.  Should you think proper to do so, I shall know also how to deal with that fact.

As to your conduct in admitting Colonel Osborne into your house while my wife is there after all that has passed, and all that you know that has passed I am quite unable to speak with anything like moderation of feeling.  Had the man succeeded in forcing himself into your residence, you should have been the first to give me notice of it.  As it is, I have been driven to ascertain the fact from other sources.  I think that you have betrayed the trust that a husband has placed in you, and that you will find from the public voice that you will be regarded as having disgraced yourself as a clergyman.

In reference to my wife herself, I would wish her to know, that after what has now taken place, I shall not feel myself justified in leaving our child longer in her hands, even tender as are his years.  I shall take steps for having him removed.  What further I shall do to vindicate myself, and extricate myself as far as may be possible from the slough of despond in which I have been submerged, she and you will learn in due time.

Your obedient servant,

L. Trevelyan.

A letter addressed “poste restante, Venice,” will reach me here.’

If Trevelyan was mad when he wrote this letter, Mr Outhouse was very nearly as mad when he read it.  He had most strongly desired to have nothing to do with his wife’s niece when she was separated from her husband.  He was a man honest, charitable, and sufficiently affectionate; but he was timid, and disposed to think ill of those whose modes of life were strange to him.  Actuated by these feelings, he would have declined to offer the hospitality of his roof to Mrs Trevelyan, had any choice been left to him.  But there had been no choice.  She had come thither unasked, with her boy and baggage, and he could not send her away.  His wife had told him that it was his duty to protect these women