"Something you don't like?" Lord Loring suggested.

"No; something I don't quite understand. One doesn't expect to
find any embarrassment in the manner of a well-bred woman. And

yet she seemed to be embarrassed when she spoke to me. Perhaps I
produced an unfortunateimpression on her."

Lord Loring laughed. "In any man but you, Romayne, I should call
that affectation."

"Why?" Romayne asked, sharply.
Lord Loring looked unfeignedly surprised. "My dear fellow, do you

really think you are the sort of man who impresses a woman
unfavorably at first sight? For once in your life, indulge in the

amiable weakness of doing yourself justice--and find a better
reason for Miss Eyrecourt's embarrassment."

For the first time since he and his friend had been talking
together, Romayne turned toward Stella. He innocently caught her

in the act of looking at him. A younger woman, or a woman of
weaker character, would have looked

away again. Stella's noble head drooped; her eyes sank slowly,
until they rested on her long white hands crossed upon her lap.

For a moment more Romayne looked at her with steady attention.
He roused himself, and spoke to Lord Loring in lowered tones.

"Have you known Miss Eyrecourt for a long time?"
"She is my wife's oldest and dearest friend. I think, Romayne,

you would feel interested in Stella, if you saw more of her."
Romayne bowed in silent submission to Lord Loring's prophetic

remark. "Let us look at the pictures," he said, quietly.
As he moved down the gallery, the two priests met him. Father

Benwell saw his opportunity of helping Penrose to produce a
favorable impression.

"Forgive the curiosity of an old student, Mr. Romayne," he said
in his pleasant, cheerful way. "Lord Loring tells me you have

sent to the country for your books. Do you find a London hotel
favorable to study?"

"It is a very quiet hotel," Romayne answered, "and the people
know my ways." He turned to Arthur. "I have my own set of rooms,

Mr. Penrose," he continued--"with a room at your disposal. I used
to enjoy the solitude of my house in the country. My tastes have

lately changed--there are times now when I want to see the life
in the streets, as a relief. Though we are in a hotel, I can

promise that you will not be troubled by interruptions, when you
kindly lend me the use of your pen."

Father Benwell answered before Penrose could speak. "You may
perhaps find my young friend's memory of some use to you, Mr.

Romayne, as well as his pen. Penrose has studied in the Vatican
Library. If your reading leads you that way, he knows more than

most men of the rare old manuscripts which treat of the early
history of Christianity."

This delicately managed reference to the projected work on "The
Origin of Religions" produced its effect.

"I should like very much, Mr. Penrose, to speak to you about
those manuscripts," Romayne said. "Copies of some of them may

perhaps be in the British Museum. Is it asking too much to
inquire if you are disengaged this morning?"

"I am entirely at your service, Mr. Romayne."
"If you will kindly call at my hotel in an hour's time, I shall

have looked over my notes, and shall be ready for you with a list
of titles and dates. There is the address."

With those words, he advanced to take his leave of Lady Loring
and Stella.

Father Benwell was a man possessed of extraordinary power of
foresight--but he was not infallible. Seeing that Romayne was on

the point of leaving the house, and feeling that he had paved the
way successfully for Romayne's amanuensis, he too readily assumed

that there was nothing further to be gained by remaining in the
gallery. Moreover, the interval before Penrose called at the

hotel might be usefully filled up by some wise words of advice,
relating to the religious uses to which he might turn his

intercourse with his employer. Making one of his ready and
plausible excuses, he accordingly returned with Penrose to the

library--and so committed (as he himself discovered at a later
time) one of the few mistakes in the long record of his life.

In the meanwhile, Romayne was not permitted to bring his visit to
a conclusion without hospitable remonstrance on the part of Lady

Loring. She felt for Stella, with a woman's enthusiastic devotion
to the interests of true love; and she had firmlyresolved that a

matter so trifling as the cultivation of Romayne's mind should
not be allowed to stand in the way of the far more important

enterprise of opening his heart to the influence of the sex.
"Stay and lunch with us," she said, when he held out his hand to

bid her good-by.
"Thank you, Lady Loring, I never take lunch."

"Well, then, come and dine with us--no party; only ourselves.
Tomorrow, and next day, we are disengaged. Which day shall it

be?"
Romayne still resisted. "You are very kind. In my state of

health, I am unwilling to make engagements which I may not be
able to keep."

Lady Loring was just as resolute on her side. She appealed to
Stella. "Mr. Romayne persists, my dear, in putting me off with

excuses. Try if you can persuade him."
"_I_ am not likely to have any influence, Adelaide."

The tone in which she replied struck Romayne. He looked at her.
Her eyes, gravely meeting his eyes, held him with a strange

fascination. She was not herself conscious how openly all that
was noble and true in her nature, all that was most deeply and

sensitively felt in her aspirations, spoke at that moment in her
look. Romayne's face changed: he turned pale under the new

emotion that she had roused in him. Lady Loring observed him
attentively.

"Perhaps you underrate your influence, Stella?" she suggested.
Stella remained impenetrable to persuasion. "I have only been

introduced to Mr. Romayne half an hour since," she said. "I am
not vain enough to suppose that I can produce a favorable

impression on any one in so short a time."
She had expressed, in other words, Romayne's own idea of himself,

in speaking of her to Lord Loring. He was struck by the
coincidence.

"Perhaps we have begun, Miss Eyrecourt, by misinterpreting one
another," he said. "We may arrive at a better understanding when

I have the honor of meeting you again."
He hesitated and looked at Lady Loring. She was not the woman to

let a fair opportunity escape her. "We will say to-morrow
evening," she resumed, "at seven o'clock."

"To-morrow," said Romayne. He shook hands with Stella, and left
the picture gallery.

Thus far, the conspiracy to marry him promised even more
hopefully than the conspiracy to convert him. And Father Benwell,

carefully instructing Penrose in the next room, was not aware of
it!

But the hours, in their progress, mark the march of events as
surely as they mark the march of time. The day passed, the

evening came--and, with its coming, the prospects of the
conversion brightened in their turn.

Let Father Benwell himself relate how it happened--in an extract
from his report to Rome, written the same evening.

". . . I had arranged with Penrose that he should call at my
lodgings, and tell me how he had prospered at the first

performance of his duties as secretary to Romayne.
"The moment he entered the room the signs of disturbance in his

face told me that something serious had happened. I asked
directly if there had been any disagreement between Romayne and