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Whether this wild way of speaking offended Lord Loring, or only discouraged him, I cannot say. I heard him take his leave in these words: "You have disappointed me, Romayne. We will talk of something else the next time we meet." The study door was opened and closed. Romayne was left by himself. Solitude was apparently not to his taste just then. I heard him call to Penrose.
My plans are altered since we met yesterday. I am obliged to leave London." Romayne was unwilling to part with him on these terms. "You will let me know when you are next in town?" he said. "Certainly!" With that short answer he hurried away. Romayne waited a little in the hall before he went back to his wife.
If Romayne had turned Baptist or Methodist, the reverend gentleman in charge of his spiritual welfare would not have forgotten as you have forgotten, you little goose that his convert was a rich man. Is there any other presentiment, my dear, on which you would like to have your mother's candid opinion?" Stella resignedly took up the book again. "I daresay you are right," she said.
It contained the closing paragraphs of an eloquent attack on Protestantism, from the Roman Catholic point of view. With trembling hands she turned back to the title-page. It presented this written inscription: "To Lewis Romayne from his attached friend and servant, Arthur Penrose." "God help me!" she said to herself; "the priest has got between us already!"
The Major is going to make inquiries about the widow and children when he returns to London." "When he returns!" Stella repeated indignantly. "Who knows what the poor wretches may be suffering in the interval, and what Romayne may feel if he ever hears of it? Tell me the address again it was somewhere in Islington, you said." "Why do you want to know it?" Lady Loring asked.
THE group before the picture which had been the subject of dispute was broken up. In one part of the gallery, Lady Loring and Stella were whispering together on a sofa. In another part, Lord Loring was speaking privately to Romayne. "Do you think you will like Mr. Penrose?" his lordship asked. "Yes so far as I can tell at present. He seems to be modest and intelligent."
The day may yet come when nothing will interpose between us and failure but my knowledge of events in Miss Eyrecourt's life. For the present, there is no more to be said. Two days after Father Benwell had posted his letter to Rome, Lady Loring entered her husband's study, and asked eagerly if he had heard any news of Romayne. Lord Loring shook his head.
Her magnificent hair was left to plead its own merits, without adornment of any sort. Even the brooch which fastened her lace pelerine was of plain gold only. Conscious that she was showing her beauty to the greatest advantage in the eyes of a man of taste, she betrayed a little of the embarrassment which Romayne had already noticed at the moment when she gave him her hand.
But he was honorably unwilling to disturb her relations with her husband, by satisfying her that he had never been unworthy of the affection which had once united them. From Mrs. Romayne to Mr. Winterfield. HAS my letter failed to reach you? Yesterday, Father Benwell called at Ten Acres Lodge. He first saw my mother and myself and he contrived to mention your name.
From your place in the Embassy you would have mounted a step higher to the office of Vice-Legate. Those duties wisely performed, another rise to the Auditorship of the Apostolic Chamber. That office filled, a last step upward to the highest rank left, the rank of a Prince of the Church." "All vanity!" said the dying Romayne. He looked at his wife and his child.
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