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exacting kind. Even with the help of Penrose to encourage him, he



does not get on to his satisfaction--and yet, as I could plainly

perceive, the ambition to make a name in the world exercises a



stronger influence over him than ever. All in our favor, my

reverend friend--all in our favor!



I took the liberty of asking to see Penrose alone for a moment;

and, this request granted, Romayne and I parted cordially. I can



make most people like me, when I choose to try. The master of

Vange Abbey is no exception to the rule. Did I tell you,



by-the-by, that the property has a little declined of late in

value? It is now not worth more than six thousand a year. _We_



will improve it when it returns to the Church.

My interview with Penrose was over in two minutes. Dispensing



with formality, I took his arm, and led him into the front

garden.



"I have heard all about it," I said; "and I must not deny that

you have disappointed me. But I know your disposition, and I make



allowances. You have qualities, dear Arthur, which perhaps put

you a little out of place among us. I shall be obliged to report



what you have done--but you may trust me to put it favorably.

Shake hands, my son, and, while we are still together, let us be



as good friends as ever."

You may think that I spoke in this way with a view to my



indulgent language being repeated to Romayne, and so improving

the position which I have already gained in his estimation. Do



you know, I really believe I meant it at the time! The poor

fellow gratefully kissed my hand when I offered it to him--he was



not able to speak. I wonder whether I am weak about Arthur? Say a

kind word for him, when his conduct comes under notice--but pray



don't mention this little frailty of mine; and don't suppose I

have any sympathy with his weak-minded submission to Mrs.



Romayne's prejudices. If I ever felt the smallest consideration

for _her_ (and I cannot call to mind any amiableemotion of that



sort), her letter to Winterfield would have effectually

extinguished it. There is something quite revolting to me in a



deceitful woman.

In closing this letter, I may quiet the minds of our reverend



brethren, if I assure them that my former objection to

associating myself directly with the conversion of Romayne no



longer exists.

Yes! even at my age, and with my habits, I am now resigned to



hearing, and confuting, the trivial arguments of a man who is

young enough to be my son. I shall write a carefully-guarded



letter to Romayne, on the departure of Penrose; and I shall send

him a book to read, from the influence of which I expect



gratifying results. It is not a controversial work (Arthur has

been beforehand with me there)--it is Wiseman's "Recollections of



the Popes." I look to that essentially readable book to excite

Romayne's imagination, by vivid descriptions of the splendors of



the Church, and the vast influence and power of the higher

priesthood. Does this sudden enthusiasm of mine surprise you? And



are you altogether at a loss to know what it means?

It means, my friend, that I see our position toward Romayne in a



new light. Forgive me, if I say no more for the present. I prefer

to be silent, until my audacity is justified by events.



--- * Father Benwell's experience had, in this case, not misled

him. If Stella had remained unmarried, Winterfield might have



justified himself. But he was honorablyunwilling to disturb her

relations with her husband, by satisfying her that he had never



been unworthy of the affection which had once united them.

CHAPTER V.



BERNARD WINTERFIELD'S CORRESPONDENCE.

I.



_From Mrs. Romayne to Mr. Winterfield._

HAS my letter failed to reach you? I directed it (as I direct



this) to Beaupark, not knowing your London address.

Yesterday, Father Benwell called at Ten Acres Lodge. He first saw



my mother and myself and he contrived to mention your name. It

was done with his usual adroitness, and I might perhaps have



passed it over if he had not looked at me. I hope and pray it may

be only my fancy--but I thought I saw, in his eyes, that he was



conscious of having me in his power, and that he might betray me




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