said afterward I was afraid you were very ill. We were in the

confusion of arriving at Folkestone--and, even if I had thought
it right to say more, there was no opportunity."

Romayne felt ashamed of the suspicion by which he had wronged
her. "You have a generous nature," he said earnestly. "Among the

few people whom I know, how many would feel the interest in me
that you felt?"

"Don't say that, Mr. Romayne! You could have had no kinder friend
than the gentleman who took care of you on your journey. Is he

with you now in London?"
"No."

"I am sorry to hear it. You ought to have some devoted friend
always near you."

She spoke very earnestly. Romayne shrank, with a strange shyness,
from letting her see how her sympathyaffected him. He answered

lightly. "You go almost as far as my good friend there reading
the newspaper," he said. "Lord Loring doesn't scruple to tell me

that I ought to marry. I know he speaks with a sincere interest
in my welfare. He little thinks how he distresses me."

"Why should he distress you?"
"He reminds me--live as long as I may--that I must live alone.

Can I ask a woman to share such a dreary life as mine? It would
be selfish, it would be cruel; I should deservedly pay the

penalty of allowing my wife to sacrifice herself. The time would
come when she would repent having married me."

Stella rose. Her eyes rested on him with a look of gentle
remonstrance. "I think you hardly do women justice," she said

softly. "Perhaps some day a woman may induce you to change your
opinion." She crossed the room to the piano. "You must be tired

of playing, Adelaide," she said, putting her hand caressingly on
Lady Loring's shoulder.

"Will you sing, Stella?"
She sighed, and turned away. "Not to-night," she answered.

Romayne took his leave rather hurriedly" target="_blank" title="ad.仓促地，忙乱地">hurriedly. He seemed to be out of
spirits and eager to get away. Lord Loring accompanied his guest

to the door. "You look sad and careworn," he said. "Do you regret
having left your books to pass an evening with us?"

Romayne looked up absently, and answered, "I don't know yet."
Returning to report this extraordinary reply to his wife and

Stella, Lord Loring found the drawing-room empty. Eager for a
little private conversation, the two ladies had gone upstairs.

"Well?" said Lady Loring, as they sat together over the fire.
"What did he say?"

Stella only repeated what he had said before she rose and left
him. "What is there in Mr. Romayne's life," she asked, "which

made him say that he would be selfish and cruel if he expected a
woman to marry him? It must be something more than mere illness.

If he had committed a crime he could not have spoken more
strongly. Do you know what it is?"

Lady Loring looked uneasy. "I promised my husband to keep it a
secret from everybody," she said.

"It is nothing degrading, Adelaide--I am sure of that."
"And you are right, my dear. I can understand that he has

surprised and disappointed you; but, if you knew his motives--"
she stopped and looked earnestly at Stella. "They say," she went

on, "the love that lasts longest is the love of slowest growth.
This feeling of yours for Romayne is of sudden growth. Are you

very sure that your whole heart is given to a man of whom you
know little?"

"I know that I love him," said Stella simply.
"Even though he doesn't seem as yet to love you?" Lady Loring

asked.
"All the more _because_ he doesn't. I should be ashamed to make

the confession to any one but you. It is useless to say any more.
Good-night."

Lady Loring allowed her to get as far as the door, and then
suddenly called her back. Stella returned unwillingly and

wearily. "My head aches and my heart aches," she said. "Let me go
away to my bed."

"I don't like you to go away, wronging Romayne perhaps in your
thoughts," said Lady Loring. "And, more than that, for the sake

of your own happiness, you ought to judge for yourself if this
devoted love of yours may ever hope to win its reward. It is

time, and more than time, that you should decide whether it is
good for you to see Romayne again. Have you courage enough to do

that?"
"Yes--if I am convinced that it ought to be done."

"Nothing would make me so happy," Lady Loring resumed, "as to
know that you were one day, my dear, to be his wife. But I am not

a prudent person--I can never look, as you can, to consequences.
You won't betray me, Stella? If I am doing wrong in telling a

secret which has been trusted to me, it is my fondness for you
that misleads me. Sit down again. You shall know what the misery

of Romayne's life really is."
With those words, she told the terrible story of the duel, and of

all that had followed it.
"It is for you to say," she concluded, "whether Romayne is right.

Can any woman hope to release him from the torment that he
suffers, with nothing to help her but love? Determine for

yourself."
Stella answered instantly.

"I determine to be his wife!"
With the same pure enthusiasm, Penrose had declared that he too

devoted himself to the deliverance of Romayne. The loving woman
was not more resolved to give her whole life to him, than the

fanatical man was resolved to convert him. On the same common
battle-ground the two were now to meet in unconscious antagonism.

Would the priest or the woman win the day?
CHAPTER IX.

THE PUBLIC AND THE PICTURES.
ON the memorable Monday , when the picture gallery was opened to

the public for the first time, Lord Loring and Father Benwell met
in the library.

"Judging by the number of carriages already at the door," said
Father Benwell, "your lordship's kindness is largely appreciated

by the lovers of Art."
"All the tickets were disposed of in three hours," Lord Loring

answered. "Everybody (the librarians tell me) is eager to see the
pictures. Have you looked in yet?"

"Not yet. I thought I would get on first with my work among the
books."

"I have just come from the gallery," Lord Loring continued. "And
here I am, driven out of it again by the remarks of some of the

visitors. You know my beautiful copies of Raphael's Cupid and
Psyche designs? The general impression, especially among the

ladies, is that they are disgusting and indecent. That was enough
for me. If you happen to meet Lady Loring and Stella, kindly tell

them that I have gone to the club."
"Do the ladies propose paying a visit to the gallery?"

"Of course--to see the people! I have recommended them to wait
until they are ready to go out for their drive. In their indoor

costume they might become the objects of general observation as
the ladies of the house. I shall be anxious to hear, Father, if

you can discover the civilizing influences of Art among my guests
in the gallery. Good-morning."