"But I didn't promise to tell a lie," said Mrs.Trevelyan.And there were interviews between Lady Milborough and Trevelyan, and interviews between Lady Milborough and Nora Rowley.

The poor dear old dowager was exceedingly busy and full of groans, prescribing Naples, prescribing a course of extra prayers, prescribing a general course of letting by-gones be by-gones,--to which, however, Trevelyan would by no means assent without some assurance, which he might regard as a guarantee,--prescribing retirement to a small town in the west of France if Naples would not suffice; but she could effect nothing.
Mrs.Trevelyan, indeed, did a thing which was sure of itself to render any steps taken for a reconciliation ineffectual.

In the midst of all this turmoil,--while she and her husband were still living in the same house, but apart because of their absurd quarrel respecting Colonel Osborne, she wrote another letter to that gentleman.

The argument by which she justified this to herself, and to her sister after it was done, was the real propriety of her own conduct throughout her whole intimacy with Colonel Osborne.

"But that is just what Louis doesn't want you to do," Nora had said, filled with anger and dismay.