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My friend the late Miss Else C. M. Benecke left a number of Polish stories in rough translation, and I am carrying out her wishes in editing them and handing them over to English readers.
Eleanor assented vaguely, and the conversation dropped. In the afternoon Marie took a note to the cottage by the river. 'Ask Father Benecke to let you stay a few days. Things look bad. What did you say? If you attacked me, it has done you harm.
'I trust he is well, Madame? Eleanor flushed. 'I believe so. He and Miss Manisty are still at Marinata. Father Benecke! 'Madame? Eleanor turned aside, poking at the stones on the road with her parasol. 'You would do me a kindness if for the present you would not mention my being here to any of your friends in Rome, to to anybody, in fact.
This long period of religious hatred of and contempt for woman included the Crusades, the Age of Chivalry, and lasted well into the Renaissance. Students of the first thousand years of the Christian era like Donaldson, McCabe, and Benecke argue that the social and intellectual position of women was probably lower than at any time since the creation of the world.
Then panic for herself swept in upon and silenced all else. All was over with their plans. Father Benecke either was, or might at any moment be, in communication with Manisty. Alas, alas! what ill-luck! They walked together to the road Eleanor first imagining, then rejecting one sentence after another. At last she said, a little piteously: 'It is so strange, Father that you should be here!
The Contessa was to have joined Eleanor here at six o'clock. But a note had arrived excusing her. The visit of some relations detained her. Nevertheless a little after six a step was heard approaching along the winding path which while it was still distant Eleanor knew to be Father Benecke. For his sake, she was glad that the Contessa was not with her.
'These Christians are hard hard! thought Eleanor sharply, closing her tired lids. Had Father Benecke ever truly weighed her case, her plea at all? Never! It had been the stereotyped answer of the priest and the preacher. Her secret sense resented the fact that he had been so little moved, apparently, by her physical state.
'Truant! said the girl reproachfully, throwing her arm round Eleanor. 'As if you ought to go out without your coffee! But it's all ready for you on the loggia. Where have you been? And why! what's the matter? Eleanor told the news as they mounted to their rooms. 'Ah! that was the priest I saw last night! cried Lucy. 'I was just going to tell you of my adventure. Father Benecke!
'Marie be so good as to tell Miss Foster when she comes in that I have gone out; that she is not to trouble about me, as I shall soon return; and tell her also that I felt unusually well and strong. Then she turned and beckoned to Father Benecke. 'This way, Father, please! And she led him down the little stair that had taken Lucy to the garden the night before.
The gesture was formal, the look constrained. Eleanor, remembering Father Benecke, understood. In conversation with the Contessa however he recovered a boyish charm and spontaneity that seemed to be characteristic. Eleanor watched him with admiration, noticing also the subtle discernment of the Italian, which showed through all his simplicity of manner.
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