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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 reception



of his friend, he could not disguise from himself that she had

disappointed 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."




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