“I have something more to say to you.
Have you noticed the young lady?”
“I thought her beautiful—but she looks a little cold.”
Father Benwell smiled.
“When you are as old as I am,” he said, “you will not believe in appearances where women are concerned.
Do you know what I think of her?
Beautiful, if you like—and dangerous as well.”
“Dangerous!
In what way?”
“This is for your private ear, Arthur.
She is in love with Romayne.
Wait a minute!
And Lady Loring—unless I am entirely mistaken in what I observed—knows it and favors it.
The beautiful Stella may be the destruction of all our hopes, unless we keep Romayne out of her way.”
These words were whispered with an earnestness and agitation which surprised Penrose.
His superior’s equanimity was not easily overthrown.
“Are you sure, Father, of what you say?” he asked.
“I am quite sure—or I should not have spoken.”
“Do you think Mr. Romayne returns the feeling?”
“Not yet, luckily.
You must use your first friendly influence over him—what is her name?
Her surname, I mean.”
“Eyrecourt.
Miss Stella Eyrecourt.”
“Very well.
You must use your influence (when you are quite sure that it is an influence) to keep Mr. Romayne away from Miss Eyrecourt.”
Penrose looked embarrassed.
“I am afraid I should hardly know how to do that,” he said “But I should naturally, as his assistant, encourage him to keep to his studies.”
Whatever Arthur’s superior might privately think of Arthur’s reply, he received it with outward indulgence.
“That will come to the same thing,” he said.
“Besides, when I get the information I want—this is strictly between ourselves—I may be of some use in placing obstacles in the lady’s way.” Penrose started.
“Information!” he repeated.
“What information?”
“Tell me something before I answer you,” said Father Benwell. “How old do you take Miss Eyrecourt to be?”
“I am not a good judge in such matters.
Between twenty and twenty-five, perhaps?”
“We will take her age at that estimate, Arthur.
In former years, I have had opportunities of studying women’s characters in the confessional.
Can you guess what my experience tells me of Miss Eyrecourt?”
“No, indeed!”
“A lady is not in love for the first time when she is between twenty and twenty-five years old—that is my experience,” said Father Benwell.
“If I can find a person capable of informing me, I may make some valuable discoveries in the earlier history of Miss Eyrecourt’s life.
No more, now.
We had better return to our friends.”
CHAPTER V. FATHER BENWELL MISSES.
THE group before the picture which had been the subject of dispute was broken up.
In one part of the gallery, Lady Loring and Stella were whispering together on a sofa. In another part, Lord Loring was speaking privately to Romayne.
“Do you think you will like Mr. Penrose?” his lordship asked.
“Yes—so far as I can tell at present.
He seems to be modest and intelligent.”