entertained a wrong thought in her pretty little heart. Nevertheless
he had been compelled to break up his establishment, and take his
wife to Naples, because this horrid Colonel would make himself at
home in Mrs Poole's drawing-room in Knightsbridge. Augustus Poole,
with courage enough to take any man by the beard, had taking by
the beard been possible, had found it impossible to dislodge the
Colonel. He could not do so without making a row which would have
been disgraceful to himself and injurious to his wife; and therefore
he had taken Mrs Poole to Naples. Lady Milborough knew the whole
story, and thought that she foresaw that the same thing was about
to happen in the drawing-room in Curzon Street. When she attempted
to say a word to the wife, she found herself stopped. She could not
go on in that quarter after the reception with which the beginning
of her word had been met. But perhaps she might succeed better
with the husband. After all, her friendship was with the Trevelyan
side, and not with the Rowleys.

'My dear Louis,' she said, 'I want to speak a word to you. Come
here.' And then she led him into a distant corner, Mrs Trevelyan
watching her all the while, and guessing why her husband was thus
carried away. 'I just want to give you a little hint, which I am
sure I believe is quite unnecessary,' continued Lady Milborough.
Then she paused, but Trevelyan would not speak. She looked into his
face, and saw that it was black. But the man was the only child of
her dearest friend, and she persevered. 'Do you know I don't quite
like that Colonel Osborne coming so much to your house.' The face
before her became still blacker, but still the man said nothing. 'I
dare say it is a prejudice on my part, but I have always disliked
him. I think he is a dangerous friend--what I call a snake in the
grass. And though Emily's high good sense, and love for you, and