Instead of seizing the opportunity, and directing Romayne's mind
to the consolations of religion, Penrose
actually encouraged him
to reconsider his decision. All the
weakness of my poor little
Arthur's
character showed itself in his next words.
He said to Romayne: "It may be wrong in me to speak to you as
freely as I wish to speak. But you have so
generously admitted me
to your confidence--you have been so
considerate and so kind
toward me--that I feel an interest in your happiness, which
perhaps makes me over bold. Are you very sure that some such
entire change in your life as your marriage might not end in
delivering you from your burden? If such a thing could be, is it
wrong to suppose that your wife's good influence over you might
be the means of making your marriage a happy one? I must not
presume to offer an opinion on such a subject. It is only my
gratitude, my true
attachment to you that ventures to put the
question. Are you
conscious of having given this matter--so
serious a matter for you--sufficient thought?"
Make your mind easy,
reverend sir! Romayne's answer set
everything right.
He said: "I have thought of it till I could think no longer. I
still believe that sweet woman might control the
torment of the
voice. But could she deliver me from the
remorse perpetually
gnawing at my heart? I feel as murderers feel. In
taking another
man's life--a man who had not even injured me!--I have committed
the one unatonable and un
pardonable sin. Can any human creature's
influence make me forget that? No more of it--no more. Come! Let
us take
refuge in our books."
Those words touched Penrose in the right place. Now, as I
understand his scruples, he felt that he might
honorably speak
out. His zeal more than balanced his
weakness, as you will
presently see.
He was loud, he was
positive, when I heard him next. "No!" he
burst out, "your
refuge is not in books, and not in the barren
religious forms which call themselves Protestant. Dear master,
the peace of mind, which you believe you have lost forever, you
will find again in the
divinewisdom and
compassion of the holy
Catholic Church. There is the
remedy for all that you suffer!
There is the new life that will yet make you a happy man!"
I repeat what he said, so far, merely to satisfy you that we can
trust his
enthusiasm, when it is once roused. Nothing will
discourage, nothing will defeat him now. He spoke with all the
eloquence of conviction--using the necessary arguments with a
force and feeling which I have
rarely heard equaled. Romayne's
silence vouched for the effect on him. He is not the man to
listen
patiently to
reasoning which he thinks he can overthrow.
Having heard enough to satisfy me that Penrose had really begun
the good work, I quietly slipped out of the waiting-room and left
the hotel.
To-day being Sunday, I shall not lose a post if I keep my letter
open until to-morrow. I have already sent a note to Penrose,
asking him to call on me at his earliest
convenience. There may
be more news for you before post time.
Monday, 10 A.M..
There _is_ more news. Penrose has just left me.
His first
proceeding, of course, was to tell me what I had
already discovered for myself. He is
modest, as usual, about the
prospect of success which awaits him. But he has induced Romayne
to
suspend his
historical studies for a few days, and to devote
his attention to the books which we are accustomed to recommend
for perusal in such cases as his. This is un questionably a great
gain at starting.
But my news is not at an end yet. Romayne is
actually playing our
game--he has
resolveddefinitely to
withdraw himself from the
influence of Miss Eyrecourt! In another hour he and Penrose will
have left London. Their
destination is kept a
profound secret.
All letters addressed to Romayne are to be sent to his bankers.
The
motive for this sudden
resolution is directly traceable to
Lady Loring.
Her ladyship called at the hotel
yesterday evening, and had a
private
interview with Romayne. Her object, no doubt, was to