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Updated: June 15, 2025
Father Benwell folded his arms over his breast looked with immovable resolution straight in Romayne's face and struck the blow which he had been meditating for months past. "Rouse your courage," he said sternly. "You are no more married than I am." THERE was not a sound in the room. Romayne stood, looking at the priest "Did you hear what I said?" Father Benwell asked. "Yes."
As we approached the harbor at Folkestone, Romayne's agitation appeared to subside. His head drooped; his eyes half closed he looked like a weary man quietly falling asleep. On leaving the steamboat, I ventured to ask our charming fellow-passenger if I could be of any service in reserving places in the London train for her mother and herself.
The moment I mentioned Romayne's name, the banker looked at me with an expression of surprise. "The man most talked about in Rome," he said; "I wonder you have not heard of him already." "Is he a priest?" "Certainly! And, what is more, the ordinary preparations for the priesthood were expressly shortened by high authority on his account.
"I must see more of this man," was his thought, as he patted the companionable spaniel. Father Benwell's trained observation followed the vivid changes of expression on Romayne's face, and marked the eager look in his eyes as he lifted his head from the dog to the dog's master. The priest saw his opportunity and took it. "Do you remain long at Ten Acres Lodge?" he said to Romayne.
You mention that our Reverend Fathers are discouraged at not having heard from me for more than six weeks, since I reported the little dinner given to Romayne at my lodgings. I am sorry for this, and more than sorry to hear that my venerated brethren are beginning to despair of Romayne's conversion.
"May I ask if you agree with Mr. Romayne's estimate of the picture?" he said, in his gentlest tones. She had heard of him, and of his position in the house. It was quite needless for Lady Loring to whisper to her, "Father Benwell, my dear!" Her antipathy identified him as readily as her sympathy might have identified a man who had produced a favorable impression on her.
Do you think he would keep a man off his team who is his best player, and who may bring him the game?" Switzer's face was full of scorn. "I take it they are gentlemen," was Romayne's quiet rejoinder. "Of course, Mr. Romayne," said Mrs. Gwynne. "That gets rid of all the difficulty.
"I have not heard," was all he said in reply. I was far from satisfied. "You are one of Romayne's oldest friends," I persisted. "Have you not seen him yourself?" "I have seen him more than once. But he has never referred to his affairs." Having said this he hastily changed the subject. "Is there any other information that I can give you?" he suggested.
"Are you actually simple enough, Stella, to think that a man of Romayne's temper would have made you his wife if you had told him of the Brussels marriage?" "Why not?" "Why not! Would Romayne would any man believe that you really did part from Winterfield at the church door? Considering that you are a married woman, your innocence, my sweet child, is a perfect phenomenon!
I condemn no man unheard least of all, a man whom I have had the honor of receiving under my own roof." He spoke with a certain simple dignity. With equal dignity, Father Benwell answered. It is needless to say that he now knew Winterfield's correspondent to be Romayne's wife. "Let me sincerely thank you, Mr. Winterfield, for a candor which does honor to us both," he said.
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