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Updated: May 21, 2025
Father Benwell's hand, already in his coat pocket, appeared again empty. "Here's a proposal to me to go into Parliament," said the Squire. "What do you think of representative institutions, Father Benwell? To my mind, representative institutions are on their last legs. Honorable Members vote away more of our money every year.
"What he has said more than once already, mama. His peace of mind is returning, thanks to Father Benwell. He was perfectly gentle and indulgent but he looked as if he lived in a different world from mine. He told me he proposed to pass a week in, what he called, Retreat. I didn't ask him what it meant. Whatever it is, I suppose he is there now."
In her anxiety to discover a subject which might interest him, she overcame her antipathy to the spiritual director of the household. "Is Father Benwell coming to us to-night?" she inquired. "He will certainly be here, Miss Eyrecourt, if he can get back to London in time." "Has he been long away?" "Nearly a week."
Every spare man was called upon to help comb the hills for the wild steers that ran the wooded water-sheds, as untamed as the deer and the lynx. Even the storekeeper, Benwell, was pressed into the service. 'Rastus and the nester were the only men about the place, the deputy sheriff having been recalled to Noches on the collapse of Healy's story.
"I see, Miss Notman, that you are a consummate mistress of an art which is quite beyond poor me. Was Miss Eyrecourt present at the little discussion?" "Oh, no! Indeed, I should have objected to her presence; I should have said she was a young lady out of her proper place." "Yes; I understand. Is Miss Eyrecourt an only child?" "She had two sisters, Father Benwell. One of them is in a convent."
Penrose handed back the little narrative, vehemently expressing his sympathy with the monks, and his detestation of the King. "Compose yourself, Arthur," said Father Benwell, smiling pleasantly. "We don't mean to allow Henry the Eighth to have it all his own way forever." Penrose looked at his superior in blank bewilderment. His superior withheld any further information for the present.
It would be so nice if you would take a leaf out of their book, when we have the happiness of receiving you here. My lively imagination pictures you in a double character. Father Benwell everywhere else; and say, the patriarch Abraham at Ten Acres Lodge." Father Benwell lifted his persuasive hands in courteous protest. "My dear lady! pray make your mind easy.
I am so fond of the bygone school of music, Father Benwell the flowing graceful delicious melodies of the composers who followed Mozart. One can only enjoy that music in Paris. Would you believe that I waited a week to hear Nicolo's delightful Joconde for the second time. I was almost the only young man in the stalls.
Father Benwell was not wholly merciless. His far-seeing intellect, his daring duplicity, carried him straight on to his end in view. But, that end once gained and, let it be remembered, not gained, in this case, wholly for himself there were compassionate impulses left in him which sometimes forced their way to the surface.
"Are you at liberty to tell me the name of your correspondent?" Father Benwell asked. "I am not at liberty to do that. But I think it due to you, and to myself, to tell you what the substance of the letter is. The writer warns me to be careful in my intercourse with you. I speak plainly, but I beg you to understand that I also speak impartially.
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