could look at it by the hour together." He consulted his watch.
"But time is a hard master, and tells me that my visit must come
to an end. Thank you, most sincerely."
He bowed to Stella. Romayne thought his guest might have taken
the English freedom of shaking hands. "When will you come and
look at the pictures again?" he asked. "Will you dine with us,
and see how they bear the lamplight?"
"I am sorry to say I must beg you to excuse me. 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. Stella's
reception of Winterfield, though not positively
ungracious, was,
nevertheless, the
reverse of encouraging. What
extraordinary caprice had made her
insensible to the social
attractions of a man so unaffectedly
agreeable? It was not
wonderful that Winterfield's cordiality should have been chilled
by the cold
welcome that he had received from the
mistress of the
house. At the same time, some
allowance was to be made for the
influence of Stella's
domestic anxieties, and some
sympathy was
claimed by the state of her health. Although her husband shrank
from distressing her by any immediate
reference to her
receptionof his friend, he could not
disguise from himself that she had
disap
pointed him. When he went back to the room, Stella was lying
on the sofa with her face turned toward the wall. She was in
tears, and she was afraid to let him see it. "I won't disturb
you," he said, and
withdrew to his study. The precious volume
which Winterfield had so kindly placed at his
disposal was on the
table,
waiting for him.
Father Benwell had lost little by not being present at the
introduction of Winterfield to Stella. He had witnessed a plainer
betrayal of
emotion when they met
unexpectedly in Lord Loring's
picture
gallery. But if he had seen Romayne
reading in his study,
and Stella crying
secretly on the sofa, he might have written to
Rome by that day's post, and might have announced that he had
sown the first seeds of disunion between husband and wife.
CHAPTER V.
FATHER BENWELL'S CORRESPONDENCE.
_To the Secretary, S. J., Rome._
In my last few hasty lines I was only able to inform you of the
unexpectedarrival of Mrs. Romayne while Winterfield was visiting
her husband. If you remember, I warned you not to
attach any
undue importance to my
absence on that occasion. My present
report will satisfy my
reverend brethren that the interests
committed to me are as safe as ever in my hands.
I have paid three visits, at certain intervals. The first to
Winterfield (briefly mentioned in my last letter); the second to
Romayne; the third to the
invalid lady, Mrs. Eyrecourt. In every
case I have been rewarded by important results.
We will
revert to Winterfield first. I found him at his hotel,
enveloped in clouds of
tobacco smoke. Having led him, with some
difficulty, into talking of his visit to Ten Acres Lodge, I asked
how he liked Romayne's pictures.
"I envy him his pictures." That was the only answer.
"And how do you like Mrs. Romayne?" I inquired next.
He laid down his pipe, and looked at me attentively. My face (I
flatter myself) defied discovery. He inhaled another
mouthful of
tobacco, and began to play with his dog. "If I must answer your
question," he burst out suddenly, "I didn't get a very gracious
reception from Mrs. Romayne." There he
abruptly stopped. He is a
thoroughly
transparent man; you see straight into his mind,
through his eyes. I perceived that he was only telling me a part
(perhaps a very small part) of the truth.
"Can you
account for such a
reception as you describe?" I asked.
He answered
shortly, "No."