asked for them now-a-days, and a man, when he became an Acrobat,
did so with a view either to the whist or the cook, or possibly to
the social excellences of the club. Louis Trevelyan was an Acrobat
as was also Colonel Osborne.

'So old Rowley is coming home,' said one distinguished Acrobat to
another in Trevelyan's hearing.

'How the deuce is he managing that? He was here a year ago?'

'Osborne is getting it done. He is to come as a witness for this
committee. It must be no end of a lounge for him. It doesn't count
as leave, and he has every shilling paid for him, down to his
cab-fares when he goes out to dinner. There's nothing like having
a friend at Court.'

Such was the secrecy of Colonel Osborne's secret! He had been so
chary of having his name mentioned in connection with a political
job, that he had found it necessary to impose on his young friend
the burden of a secret from her husband, and yet the husband heard
the whole story told openly at his club on the same day! There
was nothing in the story to anger Trevelyan had he not immediately
felt that there must be some plan in the matter between his wife
and Colonel Osborne, of which he had been kept ignorant. Hitherto,
indeed, his wife, as the reader knows, could not have told him. He
had not seen her since the matter had been discussed between her
and her friend. But he was angry because he first learned at his
club that which he thought he ought to have learned at home. As
soon as he reached his house he went at once to his wife's room,
but her maid was with her, and nothing could be said at that moment.