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arising out of the introduction to each other of those two men.

You will agree with me that a scandal may prove a valuable



obstacle in the way of a marriage.

Mr. Winterfield has kindly invited me to call on him when he is



next in London. I may then have opportunities of putting

questions which I could not venture to ask on a short



acquaintance.

In the meantime, I have obtained another introduction since my



return to town. I have been presented to Miss Eyrecourt's mother,

and I am invited to drink tea with her on Wednesday. My next



letter may tell you--what Penrose ought to have

discovered--whether Romayne has been already entrapped into a



marriage engagement or not.

Farewell for the present. Remind the Reverend Fathers, with my



respects, that I possess one of the valuable qualities of an

Englishman--I never know when I am beaten.



BOOK THE THIRD.

CHAPTER I.



THE HONEYMOON.

MORE than six weeks had passed. The wedded lovers were still



enjoying their honeymoon at Vange Abbey.

Some offense had been given, not only to Mrs. Eyrecourt, but to



friends of her way of thinking, by the strictly private manner in

which the marriage had been celebrated. The event took everybody



by surprise when the customaryadvertisement appeared in the

newspapers. Foreseeing the unfavorable impression that might be



produced in some quarters, Stella had pleaded for a timely

retreat to the seclusion of Romayne's country house. The will of



the bride being, as usual, the bridegroom's law, to Vange they

retired accordingly.



On one lovely moonlight night, early in July, Mrs. Romayne left

her husband on the Belvidere, described in Major Hynd's



narrative, to give the housekeeper certain instructions relating

to the affairs of the household. Half an hour later, as she was



about to ascend again to the top of the house, one of the

servants informed her that "the master had just left the



Belvidere, and had gone into his study."

Crossing the inner hall, on her way to the study, Stella noticed



an unopened letter, addressed to Romayne, lying on a table in a

corner. He had probably laid it aside and forgotten it. She



entered his room with the letter in her hand.

The only light was a reading lamp, with the shade so lowered that



the corners of the study were left in obscurity. In one of these

corners Romayne was dimly visible, sitting with his head sunk on



his breast. He never moved when Stella opened the door. At first

she thought he might be asleep.



"Do I disturb you, Lewis?" she asked softly.

"No, my dear."



There was a change in the tone of his voice, which his wife's

quick ear detected. "I am afraid you are not well," she said



anxiously.

"I am a little tired after our long ride to-day. Do you want to



go back to the Belvidere?"

"Not without you. Shall I leave you to rest here?"



He seemed not to hear the question. There he sat, with his head

hanging down, the shadowycounterfeit of an old man. In her



anxiety, Stella approached him, and put her hand caressingly on

his head. It was burning hot. "O!" she cried, "you _are_ ill, and



you are trying to hide it from me."

He put his arm round her waist and made her sit on his knee.



"Nothing is the matter with me," he said, with an uneasy laugh.

"What have you got in



your hand? A letter?"

"Yes. Addressed to you and not opened yet." He took it out of her



hand, and threw it carelessly on a sofa near him. "Never mind

that now! Let us talk." He paused, and kissed her, before he went



on. "My darling, I think you must be getting tired of Vange?"




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