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We now know that he acted like an honorable man." He waited to see what effect he had produced. Romayne was in no state of mind to do justice to Winterfield or to any one. His pride was mortally wounded; his high sense of honor and delicacy writhed under the outrage inflicted on it.
He had evidently seen Miss Eyrecourt at the moment when she first noticed him; and he too showed signs of serious agitation. His face flushed deeply, and his eyes expressed, not merely surprise, but distress. He turned to his friend. "This place is hot," he said; "let us get out of it!" "My dear Winterfield!" the friend remonstrated, "we haven't seen half the pictures yet."
Winterfield visits Mr. Romayne, I shall go and see the pictures." It is one of the defects of a super-subtle intellect to trust too implicitly to calculation, and to leave nothing to chance. As events happened, chance was destined to throw him out once more.
Other men might have made their sad little pilgrimage alone. Winterfield took his dog with him. "I must have something to love," he said to the rector, "at such a time as this." To the Secretary, S. J., Rome. WHEN I wrote last, I hardly thought I should trouble you again so soon. The necessity has, however, arisen.
"Father Benwell possesses all the social virtues," Mr. Winterfield ran on. "He shall have his coffee, and the largest sugar-basin that the hotel can produce. I can quite understand that your literary labors have tried your nerves," he said to Romayne, when he had ordered the coffee. "The mere title of your work overwhelms an idle man like me. 'The Origin of Religions' what an immense subject!
Winterfield replied with the readiest kindness: "I can't compare myself to my excellent father," he said; "but I have at least inherited his respect for the writers of books. My library is a treasure which I hold in trust for the interests of literature. Pray say so, from me, to your friend Mr. Romayne." And what does this amount to? you will ask.
Now tell me, Winterfield, don't you think, taking the circumstances into consideration that you will act like a thoroughly sensible man if you go back to Devonshire while we are in our present situation? What with foot-warmers in the carriage, and newspapers and magazines to amuse you, it isn't such a very long journey.
But nevertheless she must say something, as Mr Amedroz continued to apply that epithet of heartless to Mrs Winterfield, going on with it in a low droning tone, that was more injurious to Clara's ears than the first full energy of his anger. 'Heartless quite heartless shockingly heartless shockingly heartless!
They live in cottages by themselves, and choose to have an opinion of their own on church matters. Mrs Winterfield was aware that she ought to bid high for such a gardener as she wanted. A man must be paid well who will submit to daily inquiries as to the spiritual welfare of himself, his wife, and family.
She had been wrong to go into such a place as the cold, unaired Town-hall, and that, too, in the month of November; and the fatigue had also been too much for her. Mrs Winterfield, too, had admitted to Clara that she know herself to be very ill. 'I felt it coming on me last night, she said, 'when I was talking to you; and I felt it still more strongly when I left you after tea.
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