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 unexpected arrival 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 (Iflatter 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."
"Perhaps I can account for it," I went on."Did Mr.Romayne tell his wife that I was the means of introducing you to him?"He fixed another searching look on me."Mr.Romayne might have said so when he left me to receive his wife at the door.""In that case, Mr.Winterfield, the explanation is as plain as the sun at noonday.Mrs.Romayne is a strong Protestant, and I am a Catholic priest."He accepted this method of accounting for his reception with an alacrity that would not have imposed on a child.You see I had relieved him from all further necessity of accounting for the conduct of Mrs.Romayne!
"A lady's religious prejudices," I proceeded in the friendliest way, "are never taken seriously by a sensible man.You have placed Mr.Romayne under obligations to your kindness--he is eager to improve his acquaintance with you.You will go again to Ten Acres Lodge?"He gave me another short answer."I think not."I said I was sorry to hear it."However," I added, "you can always see him here, when you are in London." He puffed out a big volume of smoke, and made no remark.I declined to be put down by silence and smoke."Or perhaps," I persisted, "you will honor me by meeting him at a ****** little dinner at my lodgings?" Being a gentleman, he was of course obliged to answer this.He said, "You are very kind; I would rather not.Shall we talk of something else, Father Benwell?"We talked of something else.He was just as amiable as ever--but he was not in good spirits."I think I shall run over to Paris before the end of the month," he said."To make a long stay?" Iasked."Oh, no! Call in a week or ten days--and you will find me here again."When I got up to go, he returned of his own accord to the forbidden subject.He said, "I must beg you to do me two favors.
The first is, not to let Mr.Romayne know that I am still in London.The second is, not to ask me for any explanations."The result of our interview may be stated in very few words.It has advanced me one step nearer to discovery.Winterfield's voice, look, and manner satisfied me of this--the true motive for his sudden change of feeling toward Romayne is jealousy of the man who has married Miss Eyrecourt.Those compromising circumstances which baffled the inquiries of my agent are associated, in plain English, with a love affair.Remember all that I have told you of Romayne's peculiar disposition--and imagine, if you can, what the consequences of such a disclosure will be when we are in a position to enlighten the master of Vange Abbey!
As to the present relations between the husband and wife, I have only to tell you next what passed, when I visited Romayne a day or two later.I did well to keep Penrose at our disposal.We shall want him again.
----
On arriving at Ten Acres Lodge, I found Romayne in his study.His manuscript lay before him--but he was not at work.He looked worn and haggard.To this day I don't know from what precise nervous malady he suffers; I could only guess that it had been troubling him again since he and I last met.
My first conventional civilities were dedicated, of course, to his wife.She is still in attendance on her mother.Mrs.
Eyrecourt is now considered to be out of danger.But the good lady (who is ready enough to recommend doctors to other people)persists in thinking that she is too robust a person to require medical help herself.The physician in attendance trusts entirely to her daughter to persuade her to persevere with the necessary course of medicine.Don't suppose that I trouble you by mentioning these trumpery circumstances without a reason.We shall have occasion to return to Mrs.Eyrecourt and her doctor.
Before I had been five minutes in his company, Romayne asked me if I had seen Winterfield since his visit to Ten Acres Lodge.
I said I had seen him, and waited, anticipating the next question.Romayne fulfilled my expectations.He inquired if Winterfield had left London.