Father Benwell was a man possessed of extraordinary power of foresight—­but he was not infallible.  Seeing that Romayne was on the point of leaving the house, and feeling that he had paved the way successfully for Romayne’s amanuensis, he too readily assumed that there was nothing further to be gained by remaining in the gallery.  Moreover, the interval before Penrose called at the hotel might be usefully filled up by some wise words of advice, relating to the religious uses to which he might turn his intercourse with his employer.  Making one of his ready and plausible excuses, he accordingly returned with Penrose to the library—­and so committed (as he himself discovered at a later time) one of the few mistakes in the long record of his life.

In the meanwhile, Romayne was not permitted to bring his visit to a conclusion without hospitable remonstrance on the part of Lady Loring.  She felt for Stella, with a woman’s enthusiastic devotion to the interests of true love; and she had firmly resolved that a matter so trifling as the cultivation of Romayne’s mind should not be allowed to stand in the way of the far more important enterprise of opening his heart to the influence of the sex.

“Stay and lunch with us,” she said, when he held out his hand to bid her good-by.

“Thank you, Lady Loring, I never take lunch.”

“Well, then, come and dine with us—­no party; only ourselves.  Tomorrow, and next day, we are disengaged.  Which day shall it be?”

Romayne still resisted.  “You are very kind.  In my state of health, I am unwilling to make engagements which I may not be able to keep.”

Lady Loring was just as resolute on her side.  She appealed to Stella.  “Mr. Romayne persists, my dear, in putting me off with excuses.  Try if you can persuade him.”

“I am not likely to have any influence, Adelaide.”

The tone in which she replied struck Romayne.  He looked at her.  Her eyes, gravely meeting his eyes, held him with a strange fascination.  She was not herself conscious how openly all that was noble and true in her nature, all that was most deeply and sensitively felt in her aspirations, spoke at that moment in her look.  Romayne’s face changed:  he turned pale under the new emotion that she had roused in him.  Lady Loring observed him attentively.

“Perhaps you underrate your influence, Stella?” she suggested.

Stella remained impenetrable to persuasion.  “I have only been introduced to Mr. Romayne half an hour since,” she said.  “I am not vain enough to suppose that I can produce a favorable impression on any one in so short a time.”

She had expressed, in other words, Romayne’s own idea of himself, in speaking of her to Lord Loring.  He was struck by the coincidence.

“Perhaps we have begun, Miss Eyrecourt, by misinterpreting one another,” he said.  “We may arrive at a better understanding when I have the honor of meeting you again.”